The Cautionary Tale of Rag Arse and Judy.

When I was just a young lad, no older than three
My Granddad said come here spud, sit on my knee
I’ll give you some advice, the same my dad gave me
It’s the cautionary tale of Rag Arse and Judy

Now Rag Arse was a little lad and very poor to boot
They wouldn’t even pay him for a day up the chute
He was plain and simple, but had a good heart
Gramps pauses here to let out a fart.

A good heart, he said, and a will to get ahead
So Rag Arse knuckled down to earn him some bread
He was a butcher, a baker and a wee little coal miner
He even worked a spell on a doomed ocean liner.

Rag Arse scraped and saved and put all his coin in a pot
The shillings, the tuppences, ha’pennies, the lot
He soon had enough saved, the effort well spent
He would soon be a man of standing, a fine and true gent.

But this tale turns sour for poor little Rag Arse
For as with most cautionary tales happiness is sparse
With money brought friends, real people of class
And through these slick fellows he met the feared lass

Judy was her name, a raven haired harlot
Pretty as a picture though that woman was scarlet
Rag Arse was smitten, head over heels
That poor bastard, gramps sighs, I know how he feels

Poor Rag Arse was snared by Judy the sly
She could make that boy dance with a wink of her eye
He bought her gold, lace and finely crafted jewels
This she devil had a real knack, a talent for making fools

Rag Arse was in love, though it was entirely one sided
Judy burned though his money, not that he minded
All Rag Arse wanted was her hand in marriage
But when she saw his pauper pockets that witch turned savage

She left poor Rag Arse a shell of a man
And he went back down the pits to where hell began
He worked like a mad man, oh he tried and he tried
But down those dark pits is where that little man died

Gramps looks at me as he pops out his teeth
Now you know anyone can come from beneath
But Rag Arse’s last years were hate filled and gloomy
And he swore with his last breath, there’s always a Judy

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