At Gateshead in a tanner's yard
Three young men were jawing hard
A poor old horse they'd fixed to kill
Befell the task to dexterous Bill
Poor old horse
Poor old horse
Hear what they did to the poor old horse
His palms around the hilt of the axe
Delivered such a horrible blow
The horse emerged a strangled cry
He glanced it just above the eye
And now to put it out of pain
Our Billy took another aim
The horse forsook the man he cursed
For the second blow was much like the first
He kept up thumping on its head
And then he worked the body instead
The air grew cloudy with breath so hot
Of man and beast a-mingling
"I'll try no more" conceded Bill
So up stepped Ned to test his skill
He wacked the poor thing on his nose
He sprained his wrist and bloodied his clothes
The foreman came then with his knife
Determined for to take its life
He took his aim and thrust it home
Alas he hit the collarbone
They broke its leg with a rusty spade
Then all upon it heavily laid
To quell the struggle each did their part
Until the blade had reached its heart
Now each he goes his separate path
For a cup full of ale or a nice hot bath
A kiss on the lips of a wife newly wed
Or a look at the baby sleeping in bed
