Ah! wot a moighty wicked place Our village it 'ud be, If 'twasn't vur the care Oi takes From crime to keep it free. Oi've taught 'un to respect the law Since Oi've been in the force, An' wot Oi sez, they 'as ter do, They 'as ter do, of course. Oi can't 'ave that, Oi sez, Oi can't, Oi bean't agoin' to tell 'ee why, An' don't 'ee try no tricks on 'cos Oi'm moighty sharp and floy - Oi can't 'ave that, Oi sez, Oi can't, Ah! you may stan' an' gi' Oi jaw, But when Oi sez` a thing, Oi sez, The thing Oi sez be law.

They troies all koinds o' broibes wi' Oi, But Lor! Oi knows their game, There's nowt Oi can't see through at once, Oi puts 'un all to shame. Oi be that quick they knows wi' Oi They don't stan' arf a chance. Oi be a reg'lar master-piece To see things at a glance. Oi can't 'ave that, Oi sez, Oi can't . . . It's hard work tho', vor Muddleton's A moighty busy place. There's foive-an-forty people an' They loikes to go the pace. But Lor! Oi've got 'un all inside The 'oller o' my 'and, They dursen't call their souls their own, Oi'll tell 'ee as it's grand. Oi can't 'ave that, Oi sez, Oi can't . . .

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