I keep a gin mill down among
          The slums, the lowest level—
My mother died when I was young,
          My father went to the Devil.
The Devil, the Devil,
          My father went to the Devil.

Hell's Kitchen is a lovely place
          For those who understand it.
My family has lost all grace,
          My father is a bandit.
I am the envy of the bums,
          They tell me I am handy.
I always hang around the slums;
          They call me Foxy Sandy,
One dandy, don't bandy
          With Foxy Quiller Sandy.

When I was young my mother kept
          A stand for selling candy,
Swindling everyone except
          Myself, her darling Sandy.
With private means of raising dough,
          I was a fancy trouncer.
I joined a free and easy show,
          And soon became the bouncer,
One pouncer, ten-ouncer,
          I soon became the bouncer.

My father ran thru every rut,
          Descending to the kegman.
Lapping the beer from every butt.
          One night he met a yeggman.
The Yeggman said to Pa, "You are
          One very silly slobber.
Come, join the gang, the guiding star
          Proclaims you as a jobber.
No dobber, slob dobber,
          You'll make an A-one robber."

The famous ninth ward voted, and,
          By gosh, I was selected
To run for Sheriff. 'Twas the hand
          Of Fate poor me erected.
And now I am a magistrate,
          Envy of all late comers.
I enter through the golden gate,
          Arisen from the slummers,
Bum hummers, humdrummers,
          I'm King of all the bummers.

I have a gruesome bit of news
          That makes me kind of hanker
After another job. Excuse
          Me while I raise my anchor,
And skip away to other climes.
          I'm shrivelled by a canker
Eating me up. My father's crimes
          Rise up, he killed a banker.
Poor Daddy, poor yanker—
          My father killed a banker.

As Sheriff of the county, I
          Will have to hang my father.
I cannot jump the bounty. I
          Stand firm, tho it will jar th'
The stuffing. See, I have the rope
          All ready. I'm a laddy
One Buck. I'm quite the proper dope.
          I'll have to hang my Daddy.

Old Daddy, dear Daddy.
          I'll have to hang my Daddy.
My dear old Daddy stands beneath
          The gallows, calmly smiling.
There shines a halo, one bright wreath
          Encircling the piling.
My father, smirking, seems to beck-
          On me to do my duty.
          I tie the rope about his neck,
The slipping knot's a beauty—
          So cutie, so cutie.

The slipping knot's a beauty.
          The day I make the old man dance,
We all enjoy the kicking.
          It is a joke to see him prance,
Look at his heels, both clicking.
          His tongue is sticking out, all slime,
The job will soon be over.
          We'll chuck him in the pit of lime
And then he'll be in clover.
          All over, all over.
Oh, yes, he'll be in clover.

The job is strenuously slick.
          My father strangles slowly.
Look, did you see the old man kick?
          He makes a very holy
Show of himself, unlucky Mick!
          That struggle was a thumper,
So graceful, quite the proper trick;
          He is a Holy Jumper.
No frumper, but slumper,
          He is a Holy Jumper.

When all is over I go back
          To home and learn the wife has
Eloped with the Nick the Barber (black)
          I'm thankful that my life has
Been disinfected—nasty pest,
          That wife. I feel so merry
I yell like Hell, pull down my vest,
          Then drink a glass of sherry
From Derry in Kerry.
          I gobble down the sherry.

I keep a gin mill down among
          The slums, the lowest level.
My mother died when I was young,
          My father went to th' Devil,
The Devil, the Devil,
          My father went to th' Devil.

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