I am the man, the very fat man,
That waters the workers' beer;
I am the man, the very fat man,
That waters the workers' beer;
And what do I care if it makes them ill?
If it makes them terribly queer?
I've a car, a yacht, and an aeroplane,
And I waters the workers' beer!

Now when I waters the workers' beer,
I puts in strychnine,
Some mentholated spirits,
And a gallon of kerosene,
But such a brew terribly strong,
It would make them terribly queer,
So I reaches my hand for the watering-can
And I waters the workers' beer!

I am the man, the very fat man, &c.

Now a drop of beer is good for a man
When he's tired and thirsty and hot;
And sometimes I tipple a little myself,
From a very special pot,
But a strong and healthy working class
Is the thing that I most fear,
So I reaches my hand for the watering-can
And I waters the workers' beer!

I am the man, the very fat man, &c.

Now ladies fair, beyond compare,
Be ye maiden or wife
Spare a thought for such a man
Who leads a pitiful life:
For the water rates are frightfully high,
And the meths is terribly dear
And there ain't the profit there used to be
In watering the workers' beer!

I am the man, the very fat man, &c.

(c) The Workers Music Association

*This song was reposted on The Guardian website, but removed.

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