He hasn't a waistband, I could grip,
Nor anythink I could kick,
I'd like to fetch him a trip, but ah!
To think of it, makes me sick
He hasn't a face, to black his eye,
Or even a hat to block,
But all the same, in the corner there,
He gives the fares a shock!
He dosses himself in the favourite seat,
And while he's nestlin' there,