Of all the trades in England, Beggin' is the best,
For when a beggar's tired, He can lay him down to rest.
I got a pocket for me oatmeal, And another for me rye,
I got a bottle by me side, To drink when I am dry.
I got patches on me cloak, And a black patch on me knee,
When you come to take me home, I'll drink as well as thee.
I got a pocket for me salt, And another for me malt,
I got a pair of little crutches, You should see how I can halt.
I've been a-beggin' seven years, With me ol' wooden leg,
For lame I've been, since I was born, And so I'm forced to beg.
I sleep beneath an open tree, And there I pay no rent,
Providence provides for me, And I am well content.
I fear no plots against me, I live in open cell,
Who would be a king then, When beggars live so well?
Of all the trades in England, Beggin' is the best,
For when a beggar's tired, He can lay him down to rest.