Oh me father's feet took up half the street,
And his boots were in proportion.
And the kids he'd squash in a day, by gosh,
It really was a caution.
Me and my brother from the age of four,
Up till eleven, used to sleep and snore,
Nice and cosy in the box of straw,
In the hobnail boots that me father wore.

My brother's tricks got him well-earned kicks,
In the part where teacher caned him.
To the doctor he had to go, you see,
Just to show him where it pained him.
When he lifted up his jacket, why, the doctor swore.
"He's got spotted fever!" but the spots he saw,
It wasn't spotted fever, 'twas the nails galore
From the hobnail boots that me father wore.

We had a goat with a cast iron throat,
So he never used to bite us.
Father's boots he'd chew, then the goat fates flew,
For he died of appendicitis.
That goat had whiskers and they touched the floor,
And when satisfied, the kids next door
Made the loveliest laces that you ever saw,
For the hobnail boots that me father wore.

We took a trip on board a ship,
But father's so misguided.
Wouldn't walk about with his legs stretched out,
So the ship, it went lopsided.
Down went the vessel through the hole in the floor.
All 'cept the captain and his mother-in-law,
Were saved that night, for they rowed ashore,
In the hobnail boots that me father wore.

Father worked one day building ships, they say,
With the Navy down at Chatham.
Some German spies opened wide their eyes,
When his big boots, they looked at 'em.
When those spies from Germany, his big boots saw.
They wired to the Kaiser, "Build two ships more!"
What they thought was Britannia's ships of war,
Were the hobnail boots that me father wore