Oh, fishmonger, oh, fishmonger Come quell your daughter's hunger To poke on my horn As it rises in the morn For it is naught but bad luck To *** with a puck Lest your grandkid be born A hairy, young fawn Bleeding, bangled, a-hey-ho The fishmonger's daughter The fishmonger's daughter La-da-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da-da-da-da-da