A nice young man was William Brown,
He worked for a wage in a Yorkshire town,
He turned a wheel from left to right,
From eight at morn till six at night.
Now Keep that wheel a turning,
Keep that wheel a turning,
Keep that wheel a turning
And do a little more each day.

The boss one day to William came,
He says, “Look here, young What’s-yer-name;
We’re far from pleased with what you do,
So hurry that wheel or out you go!”
Now Keep, &c.

So William turned and he made her run,
Three times round in the place of one.
He turned so hard he was quickly made,
The Lord High Turner of his trade.
Now Keep, &c.

His fame spread wide o’er hill and dale,
His face appeared in the Daily Mail;
Cheap coach trips were organized,
Just to gaze at the lad’s blue eyes.
Now Keep, &c.

Still William turned with a saintly smile,
The goods he made grew such a pile;
They filled his room and the room next door,
And overflowed to the basement floor.
Now Keep, &c.

But sad the sequel now to tell,
With profits raised the boss could sell,
To a take-over group from London town,
The first redundant case was Brown.
Now he’s in the queue a waiting,
He’s in the queue a waiting,
He’s in the queue a waiting,
And he gets a little thinner each day.

Now workers don’t be such a clown,
But take a tip from William Brown;
If you work too hard you will surely be,
Wiser but poorer same as he.
For he’s in the queue &c.