Here are the lyrics as I learned them off a folk album (old timey singer from Maine, can't recall the name):
The thinnest man I ever knew
Lived over in Hoboken,
And if I were to tell you how thin he was,
You'd think that I was jokin'.
He was as thin as a postage stamp,
Or the skin of a new potater.
For exercise he'd take a ride
Through the holes of nutmeg grater.
Oh me, oh my, he was the thinnest man,
Thin as the soup in the boarding house,
Or the skin of a soft-shelled clam
He'd never go out on a stormy night,
He'd never go out alone,
For fear that some poor hungry dog
Would take him for a bone.
While lying by the fire one night,
The lamp was a-burnin' dimly,
A bedbug grabbed him by the hair
And yanked him up the chimbley.
Oh me, oh my, he almost lost his breath,
Fell through a hole in the seat of his pants,
And choked himself to death.