This is not about either Sally on the list-LOL.
Sally's song
Sally sits on the arse of the day,
her slammerkinn ribbons all astray,
blue in her hair, red round her throat,
smelling the cullies as high as a goat.
The London road brought Sally down
into the grey and gaggling town,
away from the fields and the delving cold,
into the capital, twelve years old.
Smile now, Sally, don't you frown,
though the streets aren't paved with gold.
Your Ma is dead, your Pa's a sot.
Feel in your stocking for what you've got.
Your petticoats hide such tight young meat
so sell it while it's hot and sweet.
Another punter, and God willing,
another dance, another shilling.
Raw gin makes your stomach lurch.
Let's go down to Tyburn Hill
to see the robbers dangling still.
In satin slippers trip by the church.
Lace your gown to make cocks swell
and paint your lips as red as Hell.
Blue in her hair, red round her throat,
smelling the cullies high as a goat,
her slammerkin ribbons all astray.
Sally sits on the arse of the day.
grasshopper
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