Uncle Georgie now keeps his ukulele | 1 |
hanging in the old green house shed | 2 |
among his prize tomatoes and inter bred aubergines | 3 |
dripping with drops from kettle steam | 4 |
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His wife, after years of suffering | 5 |
from banjo ear, strum fever | 6 |
and drum disease, | 7 |
stunned him with an ultimatum. | 8 |
"Its either me or the marrows thats leavin'" | 9 |
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So it has come to pass that we sit on our asses | 10 |
son of a gun style in the old shed, | 11 |
huddled round the paraffin heater, | 12 |
beating a rhythm against the cold, | 13 |
pretending we are old wild west cowpokes | 14 |
with Captain Geronimo and Charlie Custer, | 15 |
our near neighbours, all fumed up, | 16 |
swearin’ that them tomato plants | 17 |
grew twice as tall if tuned in and kerplunked | 18 |
every dam dun day with a uke. | 19 |
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With Geronimo on banjo, Custer playin the spoons | 20 |
and me whistlin’ tunelessly on flute, | 21 |
wavin’ the tape measure while owls a-hooted, | 22 |
we were on a dead cert, as the windows misted | 23 |
and the full moon blew dreams across a cloudy sky | 24 |