THE PEELER AND THE GOAT



Oh, the Penshaw peeler went one night

On duty and patrolling

He spied a goat upon the road

And took him for a-strolling



Bayonet fixed, he sallied forth

And he caught him by the wizzen

There swore out a mighty oath

He's send him off to prison



Have mercy, sir, the goat replied

And let me tell my story

I am no rogue, no ribbon man

No cockey, Whig, or Tory



I'm innocent of any crime,

Of petty or high treason

For my tribe is active at this time

It is the mating season.



"Do not complain," the peeler said

But give your tongue a bridle

You're absent from your dwelling place,

Disorderly, and idle



Your hoary locks will not prevail

Nor your sublime oration

For the penal laws will you transport

On your own information



No penal laws have I transgressed

By deed or combination

It's true I have no place of rest,

No home, or habitation



But Penshaw is my dwelling place

Where I was bread and borne-o

I'm of an honest working race

That's all the trade I've learned-o



I wager, sir, that you are drunk

On whiskey, rum, and brandy

Or you wouldn't have such gallant spunk

To be so bold and manly



You readily would let me pass

If I had money handy

I'd take you to the parting glass

Its then I'd be the dandy



Recorded on "Borderlands"

@animal

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