My Uncle Arthur, drunken sot,
(For all the faults we know he's got)
Who never drank but ale or beer
Did one good thing last year

He saw an orphan in the street
With impetigo, bleeding feet
He gave her first some shoes to wear
In everything he let her share

He gave her food he gave her gin
He let her bring her playmates in
He let her share his truckle bed
(Cos Auntie Win, alas, was dead)

She died and uncle took to drink
Distilling cointreau in the sink
He drank so much he had a stroke
From down the road I heard him croak

Stay indoors, my only nephew
Peer in any noxious hole.
Never fail to keep the curfew
Try to save your soul!

Save your soul by living clearly
Healthy was I once; but now
Drunk and dying, longing beerily
Noone mops my fevered brow