This is a traditional song off Bob Dylan's 1992 album 'Good As I Been To You'. [Intro] D D Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride, E As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside, D Mark now what followed and what did betide, E For it bein' on Christmas mornin' D Now, for recreation, we went on a tramp, E And we met Sergeant Napper and Corporal Vamp D And a little wee drummer intending to camp, E For the day bein' pleasant and charmin'. D "Good morning, good morning," the Sergeant he cried. E "And the same to you, gentlemen," we did reply, D Intending no harm but meant to pass by, E For it bein' on Christmas mornin' D "But," says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist, E Ten guineas in gold I'll stick to your fist, D And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust, E And drink the king's health in the morning. D "For a soldier, he leads a very fine life, E And he always is blessed with a charming young wife, D And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife, E And he always lives pleasant and charmin', D And a soldier, he always is decent and clean, E In the finest of clothing he's constantly seen. D While other poor fellows go dirty and mean, E And sup on thin gruel in the morning." D D "But," says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes, E For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose, D But you dare not change them one night, for you know E If you do, you'll be flogged in the morning, D And although that we're single and free, E We take great delight in our own company, D We have no desire strange places to see, E Although that your offers are charming. D [Instrumental] D "And we have no desire to take your advance, E All hazards and dangers we barter on chance, D For you'd have no scruples for to send us to France, E Where we would get shot without warning," D "Oh no," says the Sergeant. "I'll have no such chat, E And neither will I take it from snappy young brats, D For if you insult me with one other word, E I'll cut off your heads in the morning." D And Arthur and I, we soon drew our hogs, E And we scarce gave them time to draw their own blades D When a trusty shillelagh came over their head E And bid them take that as fair warning. D And their old rusty rapiers that hung by their sides, E We flung them as far as we could in the tide, D "Now take them up, devils!" cried Arthur McBride, E "And temper their edge in the mornin'!" D And the little wee drummer, we flattened his bow, E And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow, D Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll, E And bade it a tedious returning, D And we havin' no money, paid them off in cracks. E We paid no respect to their two bloody backs, D And we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks, E And left them for dead in the morning. D And so, to conclude and to finish disputes, E We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits, D For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts E And bid them look sharp in the mornin'. D [Instrumental] D Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride, E As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside, D Mark now what followed and what did betide, E For it bein' on Christmas mornin' Two simple chords each line, easiest song ever! Sorry if wrong. I don't think any other chord site has the chords of this song.