In former times 'mid war and strife,

The French invasion threatened life,

And all was armed te the knife,

The Fishermen hung the Monkey, O!



The Fishermen with courage high,

Seized the Monkey for a spy.

Hang him says yen says another he'll die

And they did they hung the Monkey O!



Dooram a dooram a dooram a da,

Dooram a dooram a da.



They tried every means te make him speak,

They tortured the Monkey till loud he did squeek.

Says one that's French, says another it's Greek.

For the Fishermen then got drunkey, O!



He's hair all over some chaps did cry,

He's up to something cute and sly,

With a cod's head then they closed an eye,

Afore they hung the Monkey, O!



(Ladies and cheps, a chorus this time to mark our disprobashion at the pugnacious Fishermen for closing the ogle of the unfortunate Monkey.)



Dooram a dooram a dooram a da,

Dooram a dooram a da.

Dooram a dooram a dooram a da,

Dooram a dooram a da.



Some, the Monkey's fate they did bewail.

For all the speechless pug had his tale.

He'd have been better off in Durham jail.

For the Monkey was torn and funky, O!

The monkey was torn and funky, O!



Then he made some curious mugs,

When they shaved his head and they cut off his lugs,

Saying that's the game for French humbugs,

Afore they hung the Monkey,

O! Afore they hung the Monkey O!



(Now let's have a chorus in consideration of the removal and total annihilation of the Monkey's auricular organ by all who have an ear for gorilla sensations.)



Hammer his ribs, the thundering thief,

Pummel his pyet with your knife,

He's landed here for nobbit grief,

He's old Napoleon's Uncky, O!



Thus to the Monkey all hands behaved.

Cut off his whiskers, one chap raved.

Another bawled out he's never been shaved,

So they commenced to scrape the Monkey, O!



Lather and shave him.

Dooram-a-dooram.

Dorram-a-dooram-da.

Dooram-a-dooram.



Now let us hope that ever at sea

We'll still maintain sovereignty.

May France and England long agree.

And never at each other get funky.

And never at each other get funky.



As regards poor Pug I've had my say,

His times have past for many, many a day.

But in Hartlepool now you'll hear the lads say



We hung the Monkey, O! (x8)



Dooram a dooram a dooram a da,

Dooram a dooram a da.

Dooram a dooram a dooram a da,

Dooram a dooram a da. Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind