Fathom the Bowl

From France we do get brandy, from Jamaica comes rum.
Sweet oranges and lemons from Portugal come,
But beer and strong cider, are in England’s control.
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl.

I’ll fathom the bowl, I’ll fathom the bowl.
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl.

My wife she does desert me when I’m laid at my ease,
And she does as she likes and she says as she please.
My wife she is the devil and she’s black as the coal.
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl.

Chorus

My father he do lie at the bottom of the sea,
With a rope round his neck, but what matter to me.
With a flagon of strong cider, myself to console.
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl.

Chorus

Score
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