TradI was born and bred 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 raised most tenderly
Till I became a sporting blade at the end of twenty-three
My character was taken and I was sent to jail
My friends all came and tried in vain to try and raise the bail
The jury found me guilty, the clerk he wrote it down
The judge he passed the sentence, I was bound for Charlestown
They put me on an eastbound train one cold December day
At every station we passed through you could hear the people say
There goes the Boston burglar, in cold chains he is bound
For one crime or another he is bound for Charlestown
All you who have their freedom, take warning if you can
And don't you walk the streets at night, break laws of God and man
For if you do you soon will rue and find yourself like me
Serving up for twenty years in a penitentiary
As sung by Arthur Johnstone