I trudg-ed out one mornin' fair, me system to arouse,
I met the maid in deep despair who told me of her vows
'I'm pledged unto the Duke of Squeeze, I shall be his tonight,
O wandering sir, do aid me please!' and vanished from my sight.

I thought of this young maiden oft, she sought me at her leisure,
And in her ma's banana-loft we used to take our pleasure
Her mother tried to force the door, I smoked beneath the sheets (natch),
'The Duke of Squeeze is 'ere,' she swore, 'he's brung his mighty fleet!'

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

'O flee, my pet, and get thee hence; don't tarry on the coast 
The Duke has bet me fifteen pence he'd have your bits on toast!'
'My bits!' I cry, 'For my own sake, what kind of man is he?'
'A dreadful one, and no mistake, so off ye gang!' said she.

I scrambled through the aubergines and trampled o'er the brook,
But wit' he brought the submarines; thinks I, 'I'll have a look!'
In lowering hail the vessels move across the briny sea,
The teabag-spattered mermaids proved the Duke had had his tea!

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

For six long weeks I lay as dead in some outlandish field,
But when I rose from my straw bed, the weather had congealed...
The bonny sun from up on high, it dried out my old hat,
However when I look-ed 'round, I saw that all was flat.

Crushed were the hills, and bent the sod; downtrodden was the vale 
A steamroller this way has passed by Guinness and strong ale...
To my truelove's house I did go, but nothing could I find
But pancakes walking to and fro, and a talking Venetian blind!

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

'The Duke of Squeeze ha' done this thing for VENGEANCE!' they all cried,
'Go fight him with a burning ring until his bits are fried!'
Through seven counties I will search, cleaver in hand I'll roam,
And if I don't prise him from his perch, I'll flush him from his 'ome!

And we'll sing 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeez-AH!'