The Tale of the Tinker Transported

I was born beneath the thistle bush.
I leapt up from the clay!
My heart sang like a dying thrush
His young love far away.

I was born in the wildwood drear
But there I could not stay.
Though Jesus be a grenadier
And I a clock of clay.

I went to be a soldier man.
But there I could not stay.
Dying by some stranger’s hand
In lands so far away.

Then I would a sailor be.
But there I could not stay.
There were many famous victories
But I was far away.

I stayed then with a Gypsy girl
All winter in a valley.
She had black eyes and raven curls
And I called her Dirty Sally.

When summer came I left her there
In the gypsy caravan, oh!
And stepped out smart to take the air
Of the wide and wakening land.

I was learning the tinker’s art
And walked on through the Fall
And mended many a maiden’s heart
With my long peggin’ awl.

Oh, stamen stiff and pistil sweet
All on the livelong day!
He that would temptation meet
Is but a clock of clay.

And then I met a demure lass.
It was in Dublin city.
She would sit and watch the fine folks pass
All evening by the Liffy.

I am but a country lad
But many a maiden have I seen, oh..
But none with eyes so bright and mad
And none with eyes so green.

“I am a merry tinker lad
My young love,” I did call.
“I’ve got a thing to mend,” she said.
“If you have brought your awl.”

Oh stamen stiff and pistil sweet
All on a winter’s day.
He that would temptation meet
Is but a clock of clay.

So she sang like the cuckoo.
I sang like the thrush.
There were two birds in the garden
And one bird in the bush.

“Now then,” said the fair maid
“Will you marry me?
And carry me far far away
Across the wine dark sea?

My father is a Captain grim
Many stories I could tell, oh!
He likes his whores and he like his gin
And my life’s a living hell.”

“Oh, hush now lass and do not cry
Of this you’ll have no doubt
I’ll take you to Australia
If you’ll blow the candle out.”

And we beguiled the wild wild night
And the wild wild wind did blow.
I left her in the cold daylight
Before the cock did crow.

So it’s farewell bonny lassie
I’ll never married be
Though I become a vicar
And have Jesus Christ to tea.

Then I put on my tinker’s pants
And my tinker’s coat
And kissed her oh so softly
And took a half pound note.

So, it’s farewell bonnie lassie
I’ll never married be.
Though Jesus be a sailor
And love the pure whiskey.

So out I slipped into the hall
But who do you think I see?
The Captain grim with a quart of gin
And a pistol on his knee.

Oh, stamen stiff and pistil sweet
All on a winter’s day.
He that would temptation meet
Is but a clock of clay.

I woke up in six iron bands
The captain said “I’ll tell ya
You’re going to Van Diemen’s land
Near far away Australia.”

Now I make do with lizard stew
And heed the wombat’s call
And mend the hearts of kangaroos
With my long peggin’ awl.