Now some folks like to boast of their father's occupation,
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Dustmen and the likes, and other situations.
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That's so, our old man, working was 'is pride,
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In 'obnailed boots and gaiters, and a dung fork at 'is side.
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Chorus: Hi Ho, fiddle - iddle- o, Chesterfield to Cheddar,
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Hi Ho, the folks all know, he's a champion dung-spreader!
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Now many years ago, when Dad was in 'is power,
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With a mighty two-hand swipe he hit the old church tower!
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"Lord help us," cried the vicar, "Tis the judgement come!"
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"Not so," said the verger, "Tis a hundredweight of dung!"
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Repeat chorus
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Now his aim was straight and true, when 'is arms start flailin'
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We'd all look out the way, when they girt brown lumps go sailin'.
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Just leave our old man where the dung lies piled up thick,
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And he'll make it fly for miles with 'is girt big blackthorn stick!
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Repeat chorus
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Now as you all can see, father was quite contented
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He had the finest job, since work it was invented!
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And when our old man laid him down to die,
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In a forty acre field, with the dung piled six foot high!
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Repeat chorus (twice)
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-----------------
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Champion Dung Spreader
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| The Wurzels |