EDWIN'S PILLS, &c, SONG

I Am worse than poor debtors, coop'd up in their cages: Board wages I had, now bare boards are my wages. To get into bad bread sure I had no call, Sir, But bad bread is better than no bread at all, Sir! All, Sir, Small, Sir, No bread at all, Sir, oh! Oh had I a wife, tho' half starv'd like your humble, There's some consolation in something to mumble; Yet I'm married, tho' single—I tell you no fibs, Sir, Here, look at my waistcoat—I'm nothing but ribs, Sir! Fibs, Sir, Ribs, Sir, Nothing but ribs, Sir, oh! Was ever poor servant in such a disaster! I'm master'd by starving, and starv'd by my master, I'm in a sad taking—with nothing to take, Sir! I'd stake all I'm worth to be worth a beef-steak, Sir! Take, Sir, Steak, Sir, Take a beef-steak, Sir, oh!