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I live in a very small very old village In England where everyone knows your name But what makes the place rather odd Is the locals who are very strange. There's Gina the window cleaner Her bum the size of mar's And Lady Quinn Who drives like a mad lady In her Bentley car There's old Doctor Mckenna Who always complains that he's ill And young pregnant sally who forgot To take the pill (again) Farmer Giles and his sheep Tom the butcher boy who walks around naked In his sleep Norris and Horace the identical twins And gambling Fred who backs the horses and never wins Old Nelly at the post office And Nora who has the local shop And P.C plod the nervous local cop. They all get together on a Friday night In the local pub and get merry and gossip For it's the communities hub Many tales have been told About a Headless horseman hereabouts who rides through the village around midnight when the lights go out. Headless horseman? It makes no sense to me Because if he was riding a horse How the hell would he see. Every year we have the village fete and people from all around cue up at the gate we used to have a morris dance But morris can't dance no more Because Morris hung up his clogs When his feet got very sore There's Mollies stall of home preserves And paddy and his performing fleas That leaves everyone scratching And heading for the trees. The old church stands on top of the hill and long after the bells have rung Your ears are ringing still When anyone does something wrong they have to face the old ducking pond I've been ducked a time or two And got completely wet through. It's claimed Robin Hood Met maid Marion in our local wood Bet they were up to no good And his merry men got really merry Down at the local pub. If you ever visit us at our village Hogs bottom's end We might be a bit strange but we'll greet you like a friend But be wary Many a visitor never leave And meet a grizzly end, ha ha ha haaaaaa. Peter Dome.copyright.2014. July.
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