Arthur McBride Songtext
von Ewan McLennan

Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-walking down by the seaside
Now mark what followed and what did betide
For it being on Christmas morning

Out for recreation we went on a tramp
There we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp
And a little wee drummer intending tae camp
For the day being pleasant and charming

"Good morning, good morning," the Sergeant did cry
"And the same to you, gentlemen," we did reply
"Intending no harm but meant to pass by
For it being on Christmas morning"

But says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist
It′s ten guineas in gold I will slip in your fist
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust
And drink the King's health in the morning"


For a soldier he leads a very fine life
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife
And always lives pleasant and charming

And a soldier he always is decent and clean
In the finest of clothing he′s constantly seen
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean
And sup on fingroll in the morning

But says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes
For you've only the lent of them, as I suppose
And you dare not change them one night, for you know
If you do you′ll be flogged in the morning"

"And although that we are single and free
We take great delight in our own company
For we have no desire strange faces to see
And although that your offers are charming

We have no desire to take your advance
All hazards and dangers we′ve bartered on chance
For you'd have no scruples to send us to France
Where we would get shot without warning"


"Oh, now," says the Sergeant, "I′ll have no such chat
And I will take it from spalplain or brat
For if you insult me with one other word
Then I'll cut off your head in the morning"

Then Arthur and I, we soon drew our hods
And we scarce gave them time for to draw their own blades
When a trusty shillelagh came over their heads
And we bade them take that as fair warning

And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
"Now take them out, devils," cried Arthur McBride
"And tamper their edge in the morning"

And the little wee drummer we flattened his pow
And we made a football of his row-de-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll
And bade it a tedious returning

And we, having no money, paid them off in cracks
And we paid no respect to their two bloody backs
For we leathered them there like a pair of wet sacks
And left them for dead in the morning

And now to conclude and to finish disputes
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits
For we were the lads who would give ′em hard clouts
And make them look sharp in the morning

Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-walking down by the seaside
Now mark what followed and what did betide
For it being on Christmas morning