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There is an ancient party at the other end of town
He keeps a little grocery store, the ancient's name is Brown
He has a lovely daughter, such a treat I never saw
Oh I only hope some day to be the old man's son-in-law
Old Brown he sells from off his shelf 'most anything you please
He's got jew's harps for the little boys, lollipops and cheese
His daughter minds the store and it's a treat to see her serve
I'd like to run away with her but I don't have the nerve
And it's Old Brown's Daughter she's a proper sort of girl
Old Brown's Daughter is as fair as any pearl
I wish I were a Lord Mayor, a Marquis or an Earl
And blow me if I wouldn't marry Old Brown's girl
Blow me if I wouldn't marry Old Brown's girl
Well poor old Brown now has trouble with the gout
He grumbles in his little parlour when he can't get out
Oh and when I make a purchase, lord, and she hands me the change
That girl she makes me pulverised, I feel so very strange
Miss Brown she smiles so sweetly when I say a tender word
Oh, but old Brown says that she must wed a Marquis or a Lord
And I don't suppose it's ever one of those things I will be
But by jingo next election I will run for Trinity
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