The Twangman

I think "twang" was sweetmeats.

Come listen to my story,
'Tis about a nice young man.
When the militia wasn't wanting him
He dealt in hawking twang.
He loved a lovely maiden,
As fair as any midge,
And she kept a treacle depot
One side of the Carlisle Bridge!

Now another one came courting her
And his name was Micky the Bags
He was a commercial traveller
And he dealt in bones and rags.
Well he took her out to Sandymount
For to see the waters roll
And he stole the heart of the twangman's mot,
Playing billy in the bowl,

Now when the twangman heard of this
He flew into a terrible rage,
And he swore by the contents of his twangcart
On him he'd have revenge.
So he lay in wait near James's Gate
And when the poor oul' Bags came up
With his twangknife sure he took the life
Of the poor out gather-'em-up.

And it's now yis have heard my story
And I hope yis'll be good men
And not go chasing the twangman's mot
Or any other out hen
For she'll leave you without a brass farthing,
Not even your oul sack of rags
And you'll end up in the gutter there
Like poor oul' Micky the Bags.

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Dublin Songs.