Lyrics

[intro] [break] [intro] Joe, he was a young cordwangler, Munging greebles he did go, And he loved a bogler's daughter By the name of Chiswick Flo. Vain she was and like a grusset Though her gander parts were fine, But she sneered at his cordwangle As it hung upon the line. So he stole a woggler's mooly For to make a wedding ring, But the Bow Street Runners caught him And the judge said "He will swing." Oh, they hung him by the postern, Nailed his mooly to the fence For to warn all young cordwanglers That it was a grave offence. There's a moral to this story, Though your cordwangle be poor, Keep your hands off other's moolies, For it is against the law. [instrumental] [fade]