Sydney Carton was a drunkard,
Who never did much good.
He seemed so daft and idle,
But no-one understood.
When he worked for Stryver,
He was never treated right,
All he was then, was a jackel,
And he worked all through the night.
When he fell in love with Lucie,
She tried hard to be kind,
But Lucie couldn't love him,
And he couldn't help but mind.
When he went to lunch with Charles,
Charles had no choice but to think
That his lawyer was a madman
Who had far too much to drink.
A wasted education,
A sad and lonely man,
Oh, Sydney! What you could have been!
But now you never can.
Sydney's rudeness was a mask,
Used to hide his golden heart
Till one day he took a ride
In the faithful Tumbril Cart.
Charles was meant to die,
But poor Sydney died instead,
He swapped places in La Force
So, they cut off Carton's head.
More juice for La Guilletine,
To quench her thirst for blood,
More sorrow for old Sydney,
A hero, true and good.
He was number twenty three,
Right after his new found friend,
And now theyre both in Heaven,
And they'll stay there till the end.
As for Charles and Lucie,
They had another son,
Who was named for Sydney Carton,
And did what he might have done.
So Carton, he redeemed himself,
By his brave and noble act,
And he really is a hero,
And that, it is a fact.
