The Boston Burglar

I was born and reared in Boston,
A place you all know well,
Brought up by honest parents,
The truth to you I’ll tell;
Brought up by honest parents,
And reared most tenderly,
Until I became a sporting lad
At the age of twenty-three.
Well, my character was broken,
And I was sent to jail,
My friends and parents did their best
For to get me out on bail;
But the jury they found me guilty,
And the judge he wrote it down,
For breaking of the Union Bank,
You are sent to Charlestown.
I can see me dear old father,
Standing at the bar,
And likewise my dear mother,
Tearing out her hair;
Tearing out her old gray locks,
As the tears came tumbling down,
My son, my son, what have you done,
To be sent to Charlestown?
Well, I stepped aboard an east bound train
One cold December day,
And at every station I passed by,
You could hear the people say:
Ah! There goes the Boston burglar,
In strong irons he is bound,
For breaking of the Union Bank,
He is sent to Charlestown.
There’s a girl in Boston city,
A girl I know so well,
And if I had my liberty,
With her I mean to dwell;
If I had my liberty,
Rough company I would shun,
And likewise walking late at night,
And likewise drinking rum.
Oh, you that have your liberty,
Keep it if you can,
And don’t go midnight rambling,
Or you’ll break the laws of man;
And if you do you’re sure to rue,
And you’ll end up just like me,
And sentenced down to twenty years
In the penitentiary.