The Darby Ram

As I was going to market all on a market day
I met as fine a ram, sir, as every was fed on hay
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

The horns upon his head, sir, they grew so high
A man climbed up in February and he came down in July
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

The wool upon his back, sir, it grew up to the sky
The eagles built a nest; you could hear the young ones cry
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

This ram, he had a backbone, as you may understand
It stretched away to Americay and back to Newfoundland
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

The man who killed this ram, sir, was up to his knees in blood
And two or three old women got carried away in the flood
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

The pot we had to cook him in was forty fathoms deep
And around the rim of the pot, sir, fifty men could sleep
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee

The man who owned this ram, sir, he must have been very rich
But the man who wrote this story is a lying son of a bitch
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee
With me hi ringle darby, me darby ringle dee