Half a pound of tuppenney rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
Mix it up and make it nice,
Pop! goes the weasel.

Up and down the City Road,
In and out of the Eagle,
That's the way the money goes.
Pop! goes the weasel.

(ed: I used to live round the corner from City Road and regularly walked past the Eagle pub on my way up to 'The Angel, Islington'. In 12 years living there, I never once went in for a drink oddly enough),