Cut Down in his Prime
I was a-walking down by the Lock Hospital
Dark was the morning and cold was the day,
When who should I spy but one of my comrades,
Draped in a blanket and cold as the clay.
beat the drums slowly and play the fifes lowly,
Sound the "Dead March" as you carry me along,
And fire your muskets right over my coffin,
For I'm a young soldier cut down in his prime.
she but told me when she did disorder me,
Had she but told me about it in time,
I might have got salts and pills of white mercury,
But now I'm cut down in the height of my prime.
six of my comrades to carry my coffin,
Six of my comrades to carry me on high,
And each of them carry a bunch of white roses,
So no-one may smell me as we pass them by.
top of his tombstone these words they are written,
"All you young fellows take warning by me,
Keep away from them flash girls who walk in the city,
The girls of the city was the ruin of me."