(The Tragedy of Pretty Polly Pringle)
I'll sing a tale and tell a song,
About a party who went wrong;
And all through naughty Cupid's dart
Which shot her, bang, clear through the heart.
She had been courted by a bobby,
But gave him up for a chap more nobby;
Who's gorgeous appearance struck her dumb;
As he marched and kept banging at a great big drum.

Chorus: For his bom! bom! bom! and tingle, tingle, tingle,
Bom! bom! bom! and jingle, jingle, jingle;
Won the heart of pretty Polly Pringle,
Pretty Polly Pringle liked the bom! bom! bom!

She saw this drummer in the park,
She often met him in the dark;
Her Bobby love, with his carroty hair,
She gave him 'turnips' then and there.
She scorned his bull's eye and his staff,
Prefered her soldier's love by half;
The bobby looked always blue and glum,
Besides, he hadn't got a bom! bom! bom!


One day while walking arm in arm,
The bobby saw them with alarm;
He felt as he never felt before,
And a horrible revenge he swore.
'As she for me cares not a rap,'
Said he, 'I'll settle her bom! bom!bom! chap.'
So he collared the soldier on the march,
And charged him with stealing a railway arch!


The soldier got seven years for life,
So Polly never became his wife;
The bobby made sure she'd be his bride,
But she prefered a 'sweet suicide'.
And now that bobby walks his beat,
In sadness, not even cold meat;
Delights his gaze, he feels so glum,
And nightly he dreams of the bom! bom! bom!

Written and composed by G.W. Hunt - 1873
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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