Hunting lions at Timbuctoo or singing a song when you've got the flue
Is nothing to what I've had to go through trying to buy some sugar
When I got the slip from the wife to skip
And buy some sugar or she'd give me the gyp
Well, I got rheumatics and I got the pip, but I'm blowed if I got any sugar.

Oh deary deary me, it really seems to be
Easier into heaven to jump
Than to pinch or purchase a penn'orth of lump

I went into a big Coop and after I'd nearly bought the shop
They threw me out and they called the 'Slop'
Just because I asked for sugar
Then I went in a pub called 'The Winkle Pin'
And asked for a half a quartern of gin
The barman walloped some treacle in
Instead of a chunk of sugar.

Oh deary deary me, I sang that ancient plea
Treacle, treacle, little star
But gin and treacle, how rotten you are

I went to church and I felt so vexed,
The congregation looked quite perplexed
When the Parson gave out for his text
'How are you off for sugar?'
I met a plumber outside who said,
'Our Parsons either gone off his head
Or he's swallowed some sugar
Of lead instead of Demarara sugar.

Oh deary deary me, If I was Carnegie
I'd sell my iron, upon my soul
Sell my oil and I'd sell my coal

I'd sell my rubber and I'd sell my plants
And my mother-in-law's well if I got the chance
Grab some money and use my wits
And turn the dough into three penny bits
Bung them into a motor car
And say to the Government, 'Here you are
Take them all and I'll be rejoiced
To swap the lot for a pound of moist.'
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