Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:
Watton Towns End

Watton Town's End

Watton Town's End:

 As I cam up to Arpendeen
 And straight to Wattontown
 And there I met a pretty wench
 That looked like lay me Down.

Cho: At Watten Towns end,
     At Watten Towns end,
     At every door there stands a whore
     At Watten Towns end.

 The Frigat's name was Thunder-bolt,
 Her sails were all of Silk;
 Her tacklen was of silver twist
 Her colour like the Milk.

 Her planks were all of ivory
 Her bottom beaten-gold
 Her deck was alabaster pure
 She look'ed briske and bold.

 Her keep was guilded o'er an o'er
 Her wanton flay did flye
 And I was mad to be aboard
 So much a fool was I.

 She seemed a stately pleasure-boat
 With tempting good attire
 But little knew that (under deck)
 Her gun room was in fire.

 I lodged with her, I laid her down,
 I slept with her all night
 I supped upon a Coney fatt [Coney, rabbit, and slang for vagina]
 Whose Gravy was delight

 She gave to me a Syrrup sweet
 Was in her placket box
 But o're three minute went about
 It proved the French-pox. [Syphilis]

 The fire-ship she did blow me up
 As my effigies shows
 And all may read upon my face
 The loss of teeth and nose.

 Now as I walk along the street
 They gaze upon my face
 And every one that looks at me
 Salutes me with disgrace.

 By me beware then Gentlemen
 From King to country clown,
 And when you see a pretty Wench
 Remember lay me down.

 [c 1620, but extant copies are much later. Its tune had same title, and is in C
. M. Simpson's
 BBBM, 1966. This Frigate 'Thunder-bolt 'is easily recognized as the great,....,
 great
 grandmother of "The Maid of Amsterdam."]

WBO
oct99