I'll tell thee everything I can, there's little to relate
I saw an aged, aged man a-sitting on a gate
"Who are you, aged man," I said, "and how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head like water through a sieve
He said, "I look for butterflies that sleep among the wheat
I make them into mutton-pies and sell them in the street
I sell them unto men," he said, "who sail on stormy seas
And that's the way I get my bread - a trifle, if you please"
But I was thinking of a plan to dye one's whiskers green
And always use so large a fan that they could not be seen
So, having no reply to give to what the old man said
I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!" and thumped him on the head
His accents mild took up the tale: he said, "I go my ways
And when I find a mountain-rill, I set it in a blaze
And thence they make a stuff they call Rowland's Macassar Oil
Yet tuppence halfpenny is all they give me for my toil"
But I was thinking of a way to feed oneself on batter
And so go on from day to day getting a little fatter
I shook him well from side to side until his face was blue
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried, "and what it is you do!"
He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes among the heather bright
And work them into waistcoat buttons in the silent night
And these I do not sell for gold or coin of silvery shine
But for a copper halfpenny, and that will purchase nine
"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls, or set limed twigs for crabs
I sometimes search the grassy knolls for wheels of hansom-cabs
And that's the way" (he gave a wink) "by which I get my wealth
And very gladly will I drink Your Honour's noble health"
I heard him then, for I had just completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust by boiling it in wine
I thanked him much for telling me the way he got his wealth
But chiefly for his wish that he might drink my noble health
And now, if e'er by chance I put my fingers into glue
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot into a left-hand shoe
Or if I drop upon my toe a very heavy weight
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow
Whose hair was whiter than the snow
Whose face was very like a crow
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow
Who seemed distracted with his woe
Who rocked his body to and fro
And muttered mumblingly and low
As if his mouth were full of dough
Who snorted like a buffalo
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate
Haddocks' Eyes Lyrics performed by Gryphon are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Haddocks' Eyes Lyrics performed by Gryphon is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD