HE HASN'T A FEATHER TO FLY IN
 
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Some say I'm an artful dodger, and others a regular do
I know I'm an old codger, and up to a wrinkle or two
I don't think there are any, so strange as I in my way
I know there are a great many look on me as much as to say.

Chorus: He hasn't a feather to fly with
He's not worth powder and shot
Coat, trousers and hat and shabby cravat
Seems all the poor fellow has got
He hasn't a shot in his locker
He's not worth a tinker's curse
Between me and you, he's a regular do
He's another bad fellow got worse.


Some say that I am an actor, broken down and got nothing to do
Looking out for some benefactor to lend me a shilling or two
Some say I'm a cadging old sinner and others more generously
Say that a jolly good dinner to me would a charity be.

Chorus:

Some say they don't like my manner, and others they say I'm a cad
Vulgar folks say I'm not worth a tanner, in fact they believe I'm half mad
Round about the town he goes dodging, that's the way people talk about me
Some say they don't know where he's lodging,
But to me it's as plain as can be.

Chorus:

I mix with thieves in the kitchen, I lurk down alley and court
Sometimes I get so bewitching, that my company by ladies is sought
Many garbs I assume so deceptive. But the mystery is solved anyway
When I tell you I'm 'Grab' the detective, I laugh when I hear people say.

Chorus:
 
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Performed by W. Bint (1851-1913)
 
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