Perhaps you thinks a cabby's life a' easy sort o' job
Because some on us have been out on strike
But that ain't much to go by, cos in our line, sw'elp me bob
You never knows yer luck two days alike
Now I ain't drove a cab nigh all my bloomiing life for nix
And I reckons as I knows my way about
I'm up to all the dodges, all the artful little tricks
And when I sees a boozy toff I shouts.

Chorus: 'Cab, Sir? - Yea sir, ere yer are, sir
Where d'yer want to go?
I'm the bloke that carried yer before
And if you're in a hurry, sir, why 'ere's the moke to go
For 'e knows the werry number on yer door.'

You ought to see a lady when she wants to hire a cab
Well, there, it is a cough-drop, do me straight
She's tip-toes on the kerb, and arter twenty minutes' gab
She calls a slop to know the legal rate
Then she hops all round the splash-board, and she gathers up her clothes
As if the dear old soul was going to bed
She is sure to rub her bonnet on the poor old horse's nose
Or else she'll pull the winders on 'er 'ead.


Don't talk of human nature, why, there's no one knows an 'alf
What us in our profession 'as to learn
We've got to know exactly when to swear and when to chaff
If only p'r'aps a tanner more to earn
Lord love yer, gents! don't kid yerselves a cabby's life's all fat
For when we gets a bilk it ain't no joke
And what with all the mashers now you're pretty sure of that
For it ain't all toffs what rides behind the moke.

Performed by Charles Coborn (1852-1945)
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