Old King Cole was a good old soul,
A good old soul was he!
And social life from civil strife
He guarded royally,
For when he caught the knaves who fought
O'er houses, land, or store,
He would take it himself, whether kind or pelf,
That they shouldn't fall out any more.
Old King Cole was a thoughtful soul,
A thoughtful soul was he!
And he said it may be, if they all agree,
They may all disagree with me.
I must organise routs and tournament bouts,
And open a Senate, said he;
Play the outs on the ins and the ins on the outs,
And the party that wins wins me.
So Old King Cole, constitutional soul,
(Constitutional soul was he)!
With royal nous, a parliament house
He built for his people free.
And they talked all day and they talked all night,
And they'd die, but they wouldn't agree
Until black was white, and wrong was right,
And he said, "It works to a T."
Old King Cole was a gay old soul,
A gay old soul was he!
If he chanced to meet a maiden sweet,
He'd be sure to say "kitchi kitchi kee;"
And then if her papa, her auntie or mamma,
Should suddenly appear upon the scene,
He would put the matter straight with an office in the state
If they'd promise not to go and tell the queen.
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