"Who're yer goin' to meet, BILL?
'Ave yer bought the street, BILL?"
Laugh!! I thought I should 'ave died.
Knock'd 'em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

Some says nasty things about the moke,
"Won't got fur afore _'is_ back is broke!"
That's all envy, cos we're kerridge folk,
Like the Tory Toffs wot 'ave to _go_!
Straight! it woke the Tories up a bit.
Thought BRUM JOE would go and 'ave a fit,
When my Missus, who 'as Irish wit,
Sez "I 'ate Brum Brooms[1] becos they're low!"

_CHORUS_.

"Wot cher!" all the neighbours cried.
"Who're yer goin' to meet, BILL?
'Ave yer bought the street, BILL?"
Missus, she the Shamrock waved with pride.
Knock'd 'em in the West-min-is-ter Road!

Some sez werry soon the moke'll stop;
Not hup to _our_ weight, but bound ter drop.
No use whackin' 'im with pole or prop,
'Cos the warmint wasn't _made_ to go.
Well, it ain't hexact a four-in-'and;
But me and the Missus hunderstand,
If we drive together we shall "land,"
Wich to Tory toffs'll be a blow.