Full Lyrics
Bold Turpin vance, on Hounslow Heath,
His black mare Bess bestrodeer;
Ven there he see'd the Bishop's coach
Acoming along the roader.
So he gallops close to the orse's legs.
And he claps his head vithin;
And the Bishop says, "Sure as eggs is eggs,
This here's the bold Turpin."
Says Turpin, "You shall eat you words,
With a sarse of leaden bullet;"
So he puts a pistol to his mouth,
And he fires it down his gullet.
The coachman he not likin' the job,
Set off at a full gallop,
But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob,
And pervailed on him to stop.
