I don't have the music but here are the lyrics:

About a maid I'll sing a song,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
About a maid I'll sing a song,
Who didn't have her family long,
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did everyone of them in, them in,
She did everyone of them in.

One morning in a fit of pique,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
One morning in a fit of pique,
She drowned her father in the creek,
The water tasted bad for a week,
And they had to make do with gin, with gin,
They had to make do with gin.

Her mother she could never stand,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
Her mother she could never stand,
so a cyanide soup she planned,
Her mother did with the spoon in her hand,
And her face in a hidious grin, a grin,
Her face in a hidious grin.

She set her sister's hair on fire,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
She set her sister's hair on fire,
And as the smoke and flame rose higher,
She danced around the funeral pyre,
Playing the violin, oilin,
Playing the violin.

She weighted her brother down with stones,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
She weighted her brother down with stones,
And sent him off to Davy Jones,
All they ever found were some bones,
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin.

One day when she had nothing to do,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
One day when she had nothing to do,
She cut her little brother in two,
And served him up in an Irish stew,
And invited the neighbors in, bors in,
Invited the neighbors in.

And when at last the police came by,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
And when at last the police came by,
Her little pranks she did not deny,
For to do so she would have had to lie,
And lying, she knew, was a sin, as sin,
Lying she knew was a sin.

My tragic tale I won't prolong,
Sing ricketty ticketty tin,
My tragic tale I won't prolong,
And if you do not enjoy my song,
You've yourselves to blame if it's too long,
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin.

SB