Come listen to my story, it's about a nice young man When the militia wasn't a wantin', he dealt in hawkin' twang He loved a lovely maiden as fair as any midge And she kept a traycle depot one side of the Carlisle bridge Well, another one came a courtin' her and his name was Mickey Baggs He was a commercial traveller and he dealt in bones and rags Well, he took her out to Sandymount for to see the waters roll And he stole the heart of the Twangman's girl playin' 'Billy In The Bowl' Oh, when the twang man heard of this he flew into a terrible rage
And he swore be the content of his twang cart, on him he'd have revenge So he stood in wait near James' gate till the poor old Baggs came up And with his twang knife, sure he took the life of the poor old gather 'em up And it's now ye have heard me story and I hope ye'll be good men And not go chasing the Twangman's mot or any other oul' hen For she'll leave you without a bra** farthing, not even your old sack of rags And that's the end of the story of poor old Mickey the Baggs