|I belong to Boston city boys,|
A place you all know well
Brought up by honest parents,
The truth to you I'll tell
Brought up by honest parents
And raised most tenderly
Till I became a sporting lad
At the age of twenty three.
2. My character was taken,
|3. I see my aged father,|
And he standing by the bar
Likewise my aged mother,
And she tearing of her hair
The tearing of those old grey locks,
And the tears came mingled down
Saying,"John my son, what have you done,
That you're bound for Charlestown."
4. There's a girl in Boston city, boys,
|5. You lads that are at liberty|
Should keep it while you can,
Don't roam the street by night or day,
Or break the laws of man.
For if you do you're sure to rue,
And become a lad like me,
A-serving up your twenty-one years
In the Royal Artillery.