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Way down in merry England, the home of Johnny Bull,
where the English drink their glasses, they drink them brimming full,
saying, here's to merry England, likewise our Britain's brave,
the champions we are, o'er the land and o'er the wave.
Way down in merry England, all in the bloom of spring,
where English burly champions stood stripped off in the ring to fight that noble Heenan.
the gallant son of Troy, to try his British muscle on the bold Benicia boy.
Two heavy flags were hoisted that floated o'er the ring.
On one there was a tiger all ready for a spring.
On the other was an eagle, a gallant bird she was,
for she had a bunch of thunderbolts and held them in her claws.
Oh, the pennies they were tossed and the melee did begin.
The bets on Sayers and Heenan.
Two on one came rushing in.
They fought like noble heroes till one received a blow which caused a crimson tide from young Henan's nose to flow.
The first blood for Johnny Bull, Old England shouts for joy.