The Bear and the Butcher Boy

Wrapped up in brown paper
Tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing

Well, Billy Batty was a butcher boy, he rode a butcher's bike
Down Dublin's dirty backstreets at the dawning of daylight
He loved a girl named Lucy, Lucy loved another lad
A soldier tall and handsome, this made young Billy sad

One day a circus came to town, it had a dancing bear
Oh, Billy had to go for he knew she would be there
The second he rode up, he knew that something wasn't right
The crowd was all a gallop, yelling, "Run before you die!"

Well the bear was mad with hunger and had broke free from his chain
He had rampaged through the big top when all at once he came
Across the poor young Lucy, fallen curled up on the ground
The soldier boy was hiding, he was nowhere to be found

Wrapped up in brown paper
Tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing

Now Billy heard her screams and knew at once what he must do
He took off on his trusty bike and to her aid he flew
He cycled right up to the bear, and he threw a piece of meat
The bear spun right around, and he caught that beefy treat

He scarfed it down in just one bite and looked up for some more
Round him circled, Billy trailing sausage on the floor
Just out of reach he kept him, as he lured the beast away
The bear had got a taste, now brave young Billy was his prey

Wrapped up in brown paper
Tied up with white string
He would whistle as he went
When he was happy, he would sing

He would sing
He would sing

Three times around the tent, the creature had to stop
He rested, and he thought, then he began to skip and hop
He danced a polka and a waltz to everyone's delight
The crowd began to clap and cheer at such a wondrous site

Billy tossed the bear a lamb chop and a mighty T-bone steak
The dancing just got faster and the ground began to shake
He swallowed whole two turkeys, strings of sausages galore
Then full, he gently lay down and began to loudly snore

When the crowd went wild with pleasure and to our hero, Lucy ran
She forgot the soldier boy, now brave young Billy was her man
Now the moral of this story is, if you want to win your Lucy
You better have a trusty bike and a sausage plump and juicy
A sausage plump and juicy

Wrapped up in brown paper
Tied up with white string
Now he never whistles
Every day, every day he sings

Ah-la-la, diddle-dee-dum, di-diddle-da
And every day, every day he sings
La-da, du-diddle-dee-dum, di-diddle-da
Dum-di-doop-di-dum

You've got chitterlings and chicken wings
Liver, tongue or tail
Gizzards, skirt or marrow bone
Game-hen, grouse or quail

There's trotters, T-bone, legs or thighs
Brisket, neck or jowl
Partridge, duck and turkey
Pheasant, guinea fowl

Rib eye, round or sirloin
Topside, rump or flank
Bison, goat, rummed and broiled
Porterhouse or Shank

Black pudding, bacon, rashers
Scratching, chicken feet
Haggis, ham and sweat bread
There's every kind of meat

You've got shoulder, mutton, rabbit
A rack of lamb or chops
Veil, venison, tripe
And kidney, heart or hocks