Well, if you see Kay, tell her if you may,
Her grandmother’s making her well-oiled beef.
‘tis hung out to dry, to taste and to try.
So if you see Kay, tell her to stop by.

For well-oiled beef hooked, well-oiled beef hooked,
Well-oiled beef hooked, and hung out to dry.

Now there’s a bun in the oven, ‘twas made with much love and,
Sweet Kay knows not who had donated the rye.
’twas many a baker did knead and did make her,
Small oven grow hot, and her grandmother cry:

For well-oiled beef hooked, well-oiled beef hooked,
Well-oiled beef hooked, and hung out to dry.

Her Grandma did make her tell every baker,
Of the bun in her oven, and they should stop by.
They eagerly came, for more of the same,
But instead met her Grandma, and they did proclaim:

For well-oiled beef hooked, well-oiled beef hooked,
Well-oiled beef hooked, and hung out to dry.

Well the bakers did stay, and still to this day,
They butter the biscuits of sweet little Kay.
But when she's not there, there's menfolk to spare,
Now Grandmother smiles, happy to declare:

For well-oiled beef hooked, well-oiled beef hooked,
Well-oiled beef hooked, and hung out to dry.

For well-oiled beef hooked, well-oiled beef hooked,
Well-oiled beef hooked, and hung out to dry.