It is the flash light with its flash
There at the window—hear the crash.
The Scissors Grinder lifts the sash,
          Wrenching with lever.
The Grinder—see him flop, then pop,
Getting the butcher on the drop,
He gives the man one hollow chop,
          Swinging the cleaver.

We catch the Grinder in the act,
His guilt is evident, one fact.
We form a pact, we are intact,
          All on one angle.
Oh, cruel law, most fiercely fanged,
We sentence him, he must be hanged.
He made a howl, the kettle clanged,
          The guy will strangle.

The burglar's gullet has a lump,
The final sentence is one trump,
The wooden conscience gets a bump—
          Such a reminder.
Poor sinner, how his head we banged!
Oh, cruel law, most fiercely fanged,
The kettle clanged the day we hanged
The Scissors Grinder.

The Windlass Winder of the ship
Now travels on another trip,
Twisting the handle, what a grip!
          He is a poker.
He makes the victim walk one lap,
He pokes his client on the trap,
Crowning him with a little cap.
          He is a joker.

The scientific hangman, bluff,
Is quite an artist, though a tough,
Of splendid stuff quite up to snuff.
          This Windlass Winder
Scraped off the dirt, his hair he banged
Got out the bell. Away he clanged,
Then scientifically hanged
          The Scissors Grinder.

The Executioner, quaint goose,
Thinking it fun to play the deuce,
Splices the knot, slipping the noose.
          He is a choker.
He oils the handle of the catch,
Before he drops the guy—that scratch—
His pipe—lighting it with a match,
          He is a smoker.

The morning sun is all one smile.
We gaze upon that awful pile—
The gallows tree of graceful style.
          Oh, dread reminder,
Those ravens on their perch close by.
Poor Scissors Grinder, he must die,
he Executioner stands by
          The Windlass Winder.

The gallows tree, unbending sheer,
Rises above that funny dear,
Making him look so very queer.
          The Windlass Winder,
Winking away, his hair well banged
With castor oil. The kettle clanged,
All nature smiled the day we hanged
The Scissors Grinder.

The fascinating giblet clicks,
Placing the Grinder in a fix.
The motley crowd, the Wops, the Micks,
          Breathe out a snicker
At such an overflowing peck
Of horror. What a strangled wreck,
Dancing with rope around his neck.
          He is a kicker.

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