To Bangor City last year I came, to the town I took a fancy.
I enlisted a job in the waterworks, along with my friend Jim Clancy.
Well, Jim only lasted a day or two, while I stuck on like a daisy.
Bad luck to me soul, had I gone with Jim, my poor heart would have been easy.
Last Saturday night I got on my stamps, to Brewer Town I departed.
I met a man and he asked me to drink, says I, you're very kind-hearted.
Well he gave me a drink of the lay-down punch, which laid me out completely.
Now sometimes I get a little might drunk, but that night I got beastly.
When I awoke me stamps was gone, in another hotel I was sittin'.
Me bag and me baggage was me only chum, and my bedroom door was a-gratin'.
Well I loudly for the boss did call, my stomach bein' in want of a diet.
When a man with a star did appear in the hall, sayin' damn your eyes, keep quiet.
Well they hauled me into court the very next day, charged with creatin' a riot.
They said I'd knocked a policeman down, while tryin' to keep bein' quiet.
Well I told my story to the judge, to the best of my recollection.
He fined me fifty cents and costs of six months in a house of correction.
Well me stamps was gone, so I had to go to a makin' brick for the stack boys.
And all because of the lay-down punch and the meetin' all those hobos.
So young man if you go to town, and if you've got any money,
keep away from the lay-down punch and the hobos for they're cunning.