There's an uncommon fellow,
His name is Tom Queer;
If he weren't elsewhere,
He'd surely be here.
He was born in the earliest
Part of his life,
And he never was married
Till he took a wife.
With a down, down, down derry down.

His face is the oddest
There ever has been,
For his mouth runs across,
'Tween his nose and his chin.
Whenever he's talking,
He uses his voice,
And with it he often makes
Some sort of noise.
With a down, down, down derry down.

Tom Queer has an arm
On each side of his chest,
But you won't see them working
When he takes a rest;
And he has two legs,
Which are fastened so neat
To his hips, and attached
At the ends are his feet.
With a down, down, down derry down.

Tom Queer acts so strangely
When you give him some meat,
For if he is hungry,
He will sit down and eat;
If you offer him water
When he may be dry,
It will probably run down
His throat by and by.
With a down, down, down derry down.

Tom Queer has a liking
To dwell on dry ground,
So it's quite amazing
That he never drowned.
Whenever he's healthy,
He's fine for a spell,
But when he gets sick,
He is not very well.
With a down, down, down derry down.

Tom Queer, may he live
From his birth till his death!
He never will die till
He takes his last breath,
And then he'll be buried
In the graveyard to molder;
If he lives a year longer,
He'll be a year older.
With a down, down, down derry down.