St George he was for England,
And before he killed the dragon He drank a pint of English ale Out of an English flagon
For though he fast right readily In hair-shirt or in mail,
It isn't safe to give him cakes Unless you give him ale
I'll tell you the tale of an old country pub As fancied itself up to date,
It had the word " Garage" wrote on t' stable door And a petrol pump outside the gate
The " George and the Dragon" were t' name of the pub,
IS petticoats now George cast off,
For he ws four years old;
His trousers were of nankeen stuff,
With buttons bright as gold
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, lie strewn around he here; Autumn leaves, autumn leaves, how sad, how cold, how drear
How like the hopes of childhood's day, Thick clust'ring on the bough
How like those hopes in their decay— How faded are t...