Hufty tufty the cap gun shouts
Your whole life is inside out
A cast of martinets, a whiff of Monsieur Mingo
Horse outside, going down to Sligo
So slaver and drivel like a child at mouth
No more of this drunkenness
In slavish Bacchus-born, I hate it to death
Drunkenness

Thy scurvy lungs with surfeiting be putrified
Thy wrath be fatal to thy dearest friends
A toucher, a toucher, for quaffing toy doth pass
In cup, in can, in glass, drunkenness

God Bacchus do him right and dub him knight
Rise up Sir Robert Tosspot, Sir Robert Tosspot
No more of this, I hate it to the death
Drunkenness

Deformer of the soul, abusing all the earth's fine fruits
In cellars and in vaults
Let none commit their counsels unto thee
Thy wrath be fatal to them, drunkenness

Dropsies and watery tympanies haunt thee
Thy lungs with surfeiting be putrified
Odious stinking breath
Slaver and drivel like a child at mouth
Drunkenness
Be poor and beggardly in thy old age
Let thy own kinsmen laugh when thou complainest
And many tears gain nothing but blind scoffs
Drunkenness

Hufty tufty the cap gun shouts
Your whole life is inside out
Drunkenness