The Working Men of England at length begin to see
That _their_ parsnips for to butter now the Parties all agree.

_Chorus._

_It's high time that the Working Men should have it their own way,_
_And their prospect of obtaining it grows brighter every day!_

This is the time for striking, lads; at least, it strikes me so.
Monopoly has had some knocks, and under it must go.
NORWOOD we licked; LIVESEY licked us; his was an artful plan;
But luck now turns. Ask JOHNNY BURNS, and also TOMMY MANN!

_Chorus_--It's high time, &c.

It isn't "Agitators" now, but Parties and M.P.'s,
Who swear we ought to have our way, and do as we darn please.
Upon my word it's proper fun! A man should love his neighbour;
Yet Whigs hate Tories, Tories Whigs; but oh! they _all_ love _Labour_!

_Chorus_--It's high time, &c.

There's artful JOEY CHAMBERLAIN, he _looks_ as hard as nails,
But when he wants to butter _us_, the Dorset never fails;
He lays it on so soft and slab, not to say thick and messy.
He _couldn't_ flummerify us more were each of us a JESSE!

_Chorus_--It's high time, &c.

Then roystering RANDOM takes his turn; _his_ treacle's pretty thick;