The Ballad of Willie-O (on an old pipe tune)

My Willie pales, it's sore and tender
And where it lies, I'm 'shamed to know
For seven firemen, I've been constantly waiting
To free my burning willie-o

One night as Medics lay a-sleeping
A knock came to the surg'ry door
And there they saw a Silly standing
His two pale cheeks as white as snow

O Medics here, ne'er mind my blushes
My dignity I lost long ago
My hopes of comfort, the pipes did dash them
I'll make no boast of my Willie-O

O Medics near, the pipe is breaking
I fear its time for me to go
I am leaving you quite broken-willied
Too numb to strum my Willie-O

Oh organ-grinders might seem funny
And pipe organs make music-o
I would whimper an ode to the Firemen's Union
For they brought me back my Willie-O