I was born and bred in Boston,
a place you all know well.
Brought up by honest parents,
the truth to you I'll tell.
Brought up by
honest parents and reared most tenderly,
Till I became a sporty boy at the
age of twenty-three.
My character
was broken
and I was sent to jail.
My friends and parents did their best
to get me out on bail.
But the jury found me
guilty and the judge, he wrote it down.
For the breaking of the union bank you were sent to Charlottestown.
I can see my aged father
standing at the bar.
Likewise my poor old mother was tearing out her hair.
Tearing out her old grey locks and the tears came tumbling down.
My son,
my son,
what have you done to be sent to Charlottestown?
I set my foot on an eastbound train one cold December day.
In every station I passed by I could hear the people say,
There goes the Boston burglar and strong irons he is bound.
For the breaking of the union bank he is sent to Charlottestown.
There's a girl in Boston City,
a girl that I know well.
And if ever I get my liberty with her I mean to dwell.
If ever I get my
liberty of company I will shun.
Likewise the walking of the streets,
likewise the drinking of rum.