| Step in young man, I know your face
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| It’s nothing in your favor
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| A little time I’ll give to you
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| Six months unto hard labor
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| At six o’clock the screw comes in
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| A bunch of keys all in his hand
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| Step up my lads, step up in time
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| And tread the wheel 'til breakfast time
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| And at eight o’clock the skilly comes in
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| It’s sometimes thick and it’s sometimes thin
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| And never a word dare we all say
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| Or it’s bread and water all next day
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| At half past eight the bell do ring
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| And off to the chapel boys we must swing
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| Down on our bended knees we fall
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| The Lord have mercy on us all
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| And at nine o’clock the jangle ring
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| And all on the trap boys we must spring
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| Step up my lads, step up in time
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| The wheel’s to tread and the corn’s to grind
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| Now Saturday’s come I am sorry to say
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| For Sunday is starvation day
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| Our hob-nail boots and our tin mugs too
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| They are not shined and they will not do
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| With me hip, fol the day, me hip, fol the day
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| Me hip, fol the day, fol the digee, oh
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| When six long months are gone and past
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| Then I’ll return to my bonny, bonny lass
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| I’ll leave the turnkeys all behind
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| The wheel to tread and the corn to grind |