Bold Turpin vance, on Hounslow Heath
His black mare Bess bestrode-er;
Ven there he see'd the Bishop's coach
Acoming along the roader
So he gallops close to the orse's legs
And he claps his head vithin;
And the Bishop says, "Sure as eggs is eggs
This here's the bold Turpin."
Says Turpin, "You shall eat you words
With a sarse of leaden bullet;"
So he puts a pistol to his mouth
And he fires it down his gullet
The coachman he not likin' the job
Set off at a full gallop
But Dick put a couple of balls in his nob
And pervailed on him to stop