The Beefeater - Stanley Holloway

Oh dear starting another day I suppose

Showing these ere gumps around the Tower

Still it's got to be done

Someone's got to do it

Good Morning What's that

Will I show you around t'Tower Sir

You're from Yorkshire Sir

Ba goom The world's small

I'm from Yorkshire meself aye

These ere Cockneys don't know

There's a tower here at all

First of all Sir we come to the canteen

Where you wash the cobwebs off your chest

That's our motto there

Honi soit qui may y pense

And in Yorkshire that means beer is best

Eh I'll have a pint Sir and thank yer

You'll find it good ale to sup

Well as Guy Fawkes said when he got bunged in Dungeon

And tumbled head first Bottoms up

That big ole outside is the moat Sir

And they do say if ever John Bull

Sells the tower for a road house with cracks puttied up

It'll make a damn fine swimming pool

And now Sir we come to armoury

Here's the tin pants of Dick Coeur de Lion

Just imagine the job that his old woman had

Putting patches on with soldering iron

Here's the shirt and the chainmail Black Prince wore

To starch and iron that were real tricky

It took three boilermakers to put on his shirt

And a blacksmith to put on his dicky

And this ere's the real eadsman's block Sir

From this many eads fell with a thud

Ee to keep all these ere stains fresh

All these three hundred years

We've used buckets and buckets of blood

Ere's the axe that's the genuine axe Sir

That's given Royal necks some ard whacks

Tho it's ad a new andle and perhaps a new head

But it's a real old original axe

And down here's where Princes were murdered

Aye strangled poor kids in cold blood

And what's worse down here

I tossed Scotsman for shilling

I won but the shilling was dud

And here's where they tortured the prisoners

On that rack when they wouldn't confess

They were crushed till their blood ran drip drip drip

Feeling faint Sir Well here's sergeant's mess

Eh Oh thank you I will have a pint Sir

For talking's a day's work Bet your life

For when I show you ducking stool they had for women

By Goom you'll wish you'd brought the wife

And why do they call us Beefeaters

Is it couse we eat beef Sir Nay nay

The sergeant eats pork and the corporal eats bacon

But I eat tripe three times a day

And so you shall know we're Beefeaters

There's me who has fought in the wars

As to walk round with frills on me neck like a hambone

A daft hat and purple plus fours

But here's why they call us Beefeaters

King Alfred one night so they say

Fell over the feet of the sentry

And shouted Oi Keep your B feet out of the way