In every grade of business, since the days of Noah's arc,
Each individual business, has it's different trade mark.
For instance, there's the slogger, who fights in the fistic ring,
A swollen ear's the trade mark of this pugilistic king.

Chorus: Yes, his trademark is a lump upon his ear,
He'll tussle with a navvy or a barrel full of beer,
If in the street you meet him, with him never interfer,
You can always tell a bruiser by his trademark.

Of relatives, it's strange to say, I've only got but one,
As a man of interest I'll pledge my word to take the bun.
Last week I gambled on a horse and that same horse got beat,
So I left my only overcoat with uncle, up the street.

Chorus: And his trademark is three lovely, golden balls,
When you've got to work on Monday, your dear wife upon him calls,
To pawn your Sunday pantlets, her petticoats and shawls,
You can always tell my uncle by his trademark.

I know a girl who lives up west, her name is Tottie Fay,
Her life was always one of trials, at least so people say.
She doesn't get much money but she has a lot of sport,
They know her face quite well, up west, also at the police court.

Chorus: And her trademark is, her face so thick with paint,
Her smile is quite angelic you'd mistake her for a saint.
If you got her out of temper, you'd soon tumble that she ain't,
You can always tell this Tottie by her trademark.
Performed by George Beauchamp (1863-1901)
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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