Charles H Taylor & Cuthbert Clarke
Billy Bennett
 You're not as 'andsome as you was,
Old pipe, if truth be told,
But we ain't parting just becos,
You're black, and worn, and old.
I'm not in many many ways,
The cove I used to be;
And ain't a flattering when I says, 
You're stronger now than me.
You cost a bob at first, maybe;
You ain't no fancy touch,
But there, you're worth as much as me,
And that, Gawd knows, ain't much.
We draw'd together from the fust;
We knows each other's ways;
And you're a pal as I can trust -
That's somethink nowadays.
She give yer to me, my old gal -
My gal wot used to be; 
Wot 'appy times we 'ad old pal,
Eh? 'er and you and me!
Times lightly passed, like 'arf a ounce
Of 'bacca, keerless drawn
An' blown away, they all amounts
To somethink when they're gone.
She says: 'Yer won't forgit me Bill!
I knows yer, I can tell;
But sometimes of a envening will,
You act I'm there as well?
An' when you're smoking quiet,
Will you talk to me? becos
I might be very near you, Bill.'
Supposin' now she was!
She's gone to heaven, and that's the place
Where all the past's forgot.
So some religious covey says -
Who knows a blooming lot!
Lord! if I thought she could forgit
Them days wot used to be -
Well it 'ud 'urt above a bit,
Old pal, eh? you, and me.
Let's wait a while - what must be must,
The time ain't far off when
You'll be ashes, and I'll be dust,
For ever, an' ever, Amen. 
The end