There's nothin’ like gin for drownin’ them in
But they'll always be back on a hangin’ day
They come rattlin’ over the cobbles
I'll write up a scene on a counter
Out of the dens of Gin Lane
Yours for a penny a sheet
They sit on their coffins of black
Boys, sellin’ right under the drop
She'll be sellin’ right under the drop
Some are struck dumb, some gabble
Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's
You can buy them all over the city
As they're turnin’ ’em off at the gallows
Then you'll find me in Madame Geneva's
Keepin’ the demons at bay
And the hawker has set up her shop
Confessions and sins in the main
There's nothin’ like gin for drownin’ them in
But they'll always be back on a hangin’ day
On a hangin’ day
Top-heavy on brandy or sack
The pews are all full of fine fellows
Boys, confession and sins in the main
I'm a word pecker out of the printers
Keepin’ the demons at bay
