As I went down on Broadway one evening in July,
I met a maid who asked my trade, „A sailor John“, says I.
Then away, you Santee, my dear Annie,
Oh, you New York gals, can’t you dance the Polka?
To Tiffany’s I took her, I didn’t mind expense,
I bought her two gold earrings, they cost me fifty cents.
Says she, „You limejuice sailor, Now see me home you may.“
But when we reached her cottage door, this unto me did say:
„My flashman, he’s a Yankee, with his hair cut short behind,
he wears a tarry jumper and he sails the Black Ball Line“.
He’s homeward bound this evening, and with me he will stay.
So get a move on, sailor-boy get cracking on your way!“
So I kissed her hard and proper afore her flash man came;
And fare ye well, me Bowery gal, I know your little game!