I am upon the Stock Exchange and deal in stocks and shares
And men must be uncommon sharp to catch me unawares
All that I touch turns into gold, that's why I'm such a swell
I know exactly when to buy and always when to sell.

Chorus: The Swell in the Stock Exchange
As through the streets I range
The folks cry, 'How funny, he's rolling in money
The swell of the Stock Exchange.'

Of course you've heard of bulls and bears but none with me compare
And when a bull, to make a bull's a thing I cannot bear
I'm often called a sportive cuss and one who's pretty keen
And though I'm not at all a lamb I gamble on the 'green'.


All day within the East I plod with never tiring zest
Then a neat brougham bears me off with speed into the West
To see me amongst the titled girls with dark or auburn locks
You'd never think my soul descends to lose itself in Stocks.


My luck prevails, yet other folks misfortune cannot shun
They have to sell up everything and sometimes cut and run
My secret they can't gauge, it's clear till all their cash has flown
I speculate with other's coin, they only risk their own.
Performed by Fred Coyne (1845-1886)
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