It's The Same The Whole World Over

She was poor, but she was honest
Pure unstained was her name
Till the local squire came courting
And the poor girl lost her name

It's the same the whole world over
Ain’t it a shame, a bleeding shame?
It's the rich what gets the pleasure
And the poor what gets the blame

In that rich man's arms she fluttered
Like a bird with broken wing
First he loved her, then he left her
And the poor girl got no ring

So she ran away to London
For to hide her grief and shame
But she met another squire
And she lost her name again!

See him in the House of Commons
Making laws to put down crime
While the victim of his passions
Crawls away to hide her shame!

In a rose-embowered cottage
Where her ancient parents live
Sipping Guinness that she sends 'em
Yet they never can forgive!