And however nasty it may be a nice sum you're in debt
To the fine old English Innkeeper, one of the olden time.
And if your wife be with you, you must have a private room,
And use a pair of "wax-lights" (with a muttony perfume),
For which you'll pay a crown a day, and 'tis a burning shame
That whether they be lit or not they're charged for just the same
By this rare old English Innkeeper, one of the olden time.
But soon these fine old Innkeepers will find their race is run,
For men are up and doing, and no longer will be done:
And shortly we may hope to see a really good hotel,