Mynheer, blease helb a boor oldt man
Vot gomes vrom Sharmany, Mit Fritz, mine tog, und only freund, To geep me gompany.
I haf no geld to puy mine pread, No blace to lay me down; For ve vas vanderers, Fritz und I, Und sdrangers in der town.
Some beoples gife us dings to eadt, Und some dey kicks us oudt, Und say, "You don'd got peesnis here To sdroll der schtreets aboudt!"
Vot's dot you say ? — you puy mine tog
To gife me pread to eadt! I vas so boor as nefer vas, But I vas no "tead peat."
Vot, sell mine tog, mine leedle tog, Dot vollows me aboudt, Und vags his dail like anydings Vene'er I dakes him oudt?
Schust look at him, und see him schump! He likes me pooty vell; Und dere vas somedings 'bout dot tog, Mynheer, I vouldn't sell.
"Der collar?" Nein: 'tvas someding else
Vrom vich I gould not hart; Und, if dot ding vas dook avay, I dink it prakes mine heart.
"Vot vas it, den, aboudt dot tog," You ashk, "dot's not vor sale?" I dells you vot it ish, mine freund: Tish der vag off dot tog's dail!"