The Naked-Truth: OR, A New Song without a Lie  
Tune of, Old Simon the King: Or, The Character of sundry Trades and Callings.  
 
 

THo' Trading we find in the City,  
and many more places, is bad,  
Yet here I will sing a fine Ditty,  
we'd as good he merry as sad:  
Of several Trades I will treat,  
and will with the Butcher begin,   

With what kind of Trade shall he meet,  
if he has neither Careass nor Skin;  
All you that are now in this Throng,  
I reckon to do you no wrong,  
Believe me, I pray, by yea and by nay,  
there is not a lie in this Song.   

A Weaver without Loom or Shuttle,  
like one out of use, may lie by,  
A Tinker without any Metal,  
no woman will ever employ:  
A Cobbler without St. Hugh's bones,  
he cannot mend Old, or make New,  
A Pavier without any Stones.  
Oh, what is he able to do?  
All you that are now in this Throng, etc.   

A Man that is quite Moneyless,  
through Crowds he in safety may pass,  
A Cook that hath no meet to Dress,  
he need not stand making of Sauce.  
A Tailor without o'er a Yard,  
his bodkin, goose, thimble and shears,  
You'll find that he is as much Marred,  
as if he had lost both his Ears:  
All you that are now, etc.   

A Fisherman without a Net,  
you know he can catch but a few,  
But yet his good wife she will fret,  
when ever she wants of her due:  
The jolly brisk Baker is one,  
to whom the young Lasses do troll,  
So that he so clearly undone,  
if he had not a Rusling-Pole:  
All you that are now, etc.   

The Miller's for taking to task,  
the Mistress or Gillian the Maid,  
The Cooper without Hoops or Cask,  
he cannot well follow his Trade:  
The Poet without e'er a Muse,  
can never make Sonnets complete,  
A Footman without Pumps or Shoes,  
will certainly blister his feet:  
All you that are now, etc.   

A Scrivener without Ink or Pen,  
his hands and his Letters can't write,  
A Captain that lost all his men,  
will have but small stomach to fight:  
The man that shall marry for Gold,  
and brings home a Shrew to his bed,  
Both Morning, Noon, Night she will scold  
and still have a Foise in her head,  
All you that are now, etc.   

The Chimney-Sweeper pray don't sco●,  
for if he hath Shackles and Poles,  
He'll call to the Maid's each-morn,  
to scour and cleanse their black holes:  
That man that is naked indeed,  
he is not like Tailors, and those,  
For tho' he has ne'er so much need,  
he is not for pawning his clothes:  
All you that are now, etc.   

A Gallant that has a good Coat,  
'twill help him out at a dead lift,  
A Sculler that has ne'er a boat,  
he fears not Running a Drift:  
Some Sharpers a Calling does use,  
'tis Robbing Rich Men of their store,  
But he that has nothing to lose,  
he needs not a watch at his door.  
All you that are now, etc.   

I ne'er was brought up for to Lie,  
and therefore I tell you the truth,  
My ballads I'd have you to buy,  
they're fit for Diversion of Youth:  
My Pocket with Cole to increase,  
let every youngman and maid,  
Now lay out a penny a piece,  
and then I shall have a good trade.  
All you that are now in this Throng,  
I'll do you no manner of wrong,  
Believe me, I pray, by yea and by nay,  
there is not a lie in this Song.   
FINIS.