Air: "Widow McGrath"
To Policeman G. the Inspector said:
"When you pass the 'shops' you must turn your head;
If you took a wager, that would be a sin;
So you'll earn no stripes if you run them in."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
To the House Committee, the Inspector said:
"'Tis a terrible thing how the gamblers spread,
For they bet on the steeple, and they bet on the Cup,
And the magistrates won't lock them up."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
But Policeman G., as he walks his beat,
Where ghe gamblers are, up and down the street,
Says he: "What's the use to be talkin' rot,
If they'd make me a sergeant, I could cop the lot!"
With my ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
"But, begad if you start to suppress the 'shop',
Then the divil only knows where you're going to stop;
For the rich and the poor, they would raise a din,
If at Randwick I ran fifty thousand in."
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
"Though ye must not box, nor shpit, nor bet,
I'll find my way out to Randwick yet;
For I'm shtandin' a pound, and it's no disgrace,
On Paddy Nolan's horse, for the Steeplechase!"
Mush-a-ring-tiy-ah,
Fol-de-diddle-doh!
Policeman G.
Banjo Paterson (andrew Barton)
(1)
Poem topics: horse, house, poor, head, raise, street, terrible, start, spread, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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About Policeman G.
Policeman G. is a poem by Banjo Paterson (andrew Barton). This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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