Is this Nightingale

 

Dream, dream of gin and hay

Clear, clear that I would stay

I'll stick to my girl sniff the pearl

And lay like a melted clay

 

Break, break the bone instead

Blow, blow my childish head

I'll stck with my home eat the stone

and lay on my rusty throne

 

Third, third day I will rise

Climb, climb to paradise

I'll stick to my vice then I unite

With my idol's pale eyes