Come listen to my story, it's about a nice young man
When the militia wasn't a wantin', he dealt in hawkin' twang
He loved a lovely maiden as fair as any midge
And she kept a traycle depot one side of the Carlisle bridge

Well, another one came a courtin' her and his name was Mickey Baggs
He was a commercial traveller and he dealt in bones and rags
Well, he took her out to Sandymount for to see the waters roll
And he stole the heart of the Twangman's girl playin' 'Billy In The Bowl'

Oh, when the twang man heard of this he flew into a terrible rage
And he swore be the content of his twang cart, on him he'd have revenge
So he stood in wait near James' gate till the poor old Baggs came up
And with his twang knife, sure he took the life of the poor old gather `em up

And it's now ye have heard me story and I hope ye'll be good men
And not go chasing the Twangman's mot or any other oul' hen
For she'll leave you without a brass farthing, not even your old sack of rags
And that's the end of the story of poor old Mickey the Baggs