Pace Egging Parody

Chorus

Here's one, two, three smelly lads - all in a heap

If they stand near the fire they will smell of dead sheep

They will smell of dead sheep as they sing out the King

And demand good beer from you - if you wear a gold ring!

Now the first to sing flat is old Mac on the bass

As he drops his song book and loses his place

His wild bleating notes will cause panic and fear

and wild apprehension until well into New Year

Chorus

Now next to the fray is our Dave with his pipe

And at singing a harmony he'll have a wild swipe

He'll warble it here - he'll warble it there

High, low and sideways - he just doesn't care

Chorus

And the last in the crew is young Geoff on the box

A squeezy piano with a fart like an ox

He'll run up the buttons and slide down the keys

And rupture his buttocks when the dust makes him sneeze ...

Chorus

So Ladies and Gentlemen - quaking in fear

Pull out your purses and fill us with beer

Fill us with beer - until we feel no pain

And do it right now - else we'll sing again

Chorus

Here's one, two, three smelly lads - all in a heap

If they stand near the fire they will smell of dead sheep

They will smell of dead sheep as they murder a song

You will smell them for weeks - even after they've gone

© Jon McNamara 1999