In Manchester city by the sign of The Plough
There lived a mole catcher,
I can't tell you how,

Chorus: With his la ti lie diddle,
and his la ti lie day.
He'd go out mole catching from morning till night,
And a young fellow would come for to visit his wife.

Now the mole catcher got jealous of all the same thing,
And he hid under the wash house to see what did come in.
Now this young fellow comes climbing over the stile,
And the mole catcher's watching with a crafty smile.
He knocks at the door and this he does say,
"Where is your husband, good woman, l pray?"
"He's gone out mole catching, you have nothing to fear."
Little did she know the old bastard was near.

They went up the stairs
and she gives him the sign,
But the filthy old fellow did creep up behind.
Now just as the young fellow reached the height of his frolics,
The mole catcher grabs him quite fast by the bollocks.
The trap it squeezed tighter, the mole catcher did smile,
"Here's the best mole we've caught in a while."

"I'll make you pay well for ploughing me ground
This little prank will cost you all of ten pound."
"Oh," says the young fellow,
"Christ gov, I don't mind,
For it only works out at tuppence a grind."

So come all you young fellows and mind what you're at,
Don't ever get yours caught in a mole catcher's trap.