"That settles it!" shouted Bootless McGonigle, "let's lynch 'im!" they took up the cry.
"Let's decorate 'im" said Little 'Erbert (the 'usband of Bridget MacFry).
When Gullible Jones, defendin' Jake said, "Release this man I plead,
'Twas not a crime of passion, his was more a crime of need.
This man who stands before you is no murderer as you well know -
After three pints of bitter in the Dead Dog Saloon, anyone 'as ter go!"
Filthy Jake, chained in the prisoner's dock, heartily agreed with this,
And to prove his point to the Courtroom, he had another cough?
Wot wid that and Nosegay in the place the Court smelt decidedly musty.
"We'd better 'ang 'im," said Salty Magee, "Before 'is chains get rusty."
"Vote in favour" said the judge, all hands shouted, "AYE!";
We all heard Weak Bladder Flanagan say, "There but for the grace go I''.
  Jake was hauled out by the scruff of his kecks, screamin' for Aggie Lamarr
The singer from the Dead Dog Saloon (who he goosed behind the bar).
We hung Filthy Jake by his scrawny neck but if punishment suited the crime,
We'd have strung him up by a different part and left him to scream for a time.
Next morning they went to cut him down, they had to wade out to his carcase,
He was buried in a nameless grave, we didn't have to leave markers;
For a fountain sprung up on that very spot and the locals laugh and wink
Each year as the tourists come visitin', and stop to take a drink.


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