I Was a Butchers Boy.
I was a Butchers boy.
I delivered peoples meat.
I went round on a bicycle
to save my aching feet.
Some people liked our Pork Chops,
and others they liked Lamb.
You even got the customer
who didn"t give a damn.
The bike it had a basket.
Attached above the wheel,
and when i went down hills,
i rested both my heels.
I worked from four till six.
Except at the weekend.
When i did a longer shift,
it drove me round the bend.
"You always smell of Mince."
My Mother always said.
You will need another shower
before you go to bed.
The girls they used to tease.
They put me in a Stew.
"We like your Sheepskin coat,
we like the look of Ewe."
But i had had enough.
I wished that i"d be fired!
For like my Butchers bike.
I found myself two-tyred!
This Butchers boy was sizzled.
Like a Steak that was well done.
My free time seemed so rare.
I fancied having fun.
Then the Baker called,
but i had to say "No fears."
Just like your Wedding Cake,
it would only end in tiers!
Copyright © Ned Flanders | Year Posted 2010
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