This bird in the garden's
Just singing along
I'll give him E for effort
But I don't like his song.
I think he's really just
An avian version of me
For every so often
He sings out of key,
But he's belting away
Doing his best
Really getting things
Off of his chest,
And I m pretty sure
That's his loving wife
Giving him hell
About their married life,
Grousing away
In a voice of doom
About their draughty nest
With its only one room.
The bloke who has the garden
Seem a bit of a nutter
Cos yesterday they saw him
Sharpening the hedge cutter.
Next thing is
The silly ass
Will make life harder
By cutting his grass.
So off they go on their
Morning melodic binge
Giving it hell as
They moan and whinge.
Every body thinks they're merry
As they all greet each morn
Really they're just complaining
About another bloody dawn
The trouble is they've gone
And woken up all the others
So now we've got hordes of
Chuntering fathers and mothers
And now we've got the pigeons
Just doing what they do
Giving it some wellie
With theirconstantcoo.
But I'll beat the buggers yet
They'll not drive me from my bed
For I've got this thick pillow
I've pulledrightoverme head.
