Now I always planned to make this band the very finest
in the land,
So we had to hold auditions, for to find the best
musicians,
Some who played, they made the grade, some they played
like 'ell,
I picked the best in all the West, and yere's the
personnel:
There's Bernard Mace on his old string bass made from
a girt big packing-case,
Along with 'e goes Amos Draper, wizard of the comb
and paper
Arnold Slugg loves the jug, barred from all the locals
And I'm a star on my guitar, harmonical and vocals!
What was worse, and made us curse, was findin' somewhere
to rehearse
Neither of the pubs would wear us, 'cos it seemed
they couldn't bear us!
Folks all laughed, and called the staff, we took it
on the chin -
We was always fond of the old duck pond, till they
threw us in!
There was Bernard Mace, he sailed through space, followed
by his old string bass,
Amos Draper he did try to keep 'is roll of paper dry,
Arnold Slugg went "Glug, glug, glug" and
very quickly sank,
And my gumboots were full o' newts when I reached
the other bank!
Now we haven't been barred from the old churchyard;
there one night we practised hard,
Every man was full of cider, doin' his best with "C
C Rider"
Figure in white then come in sight, I thought we'd
waked the dead,
But parson Skurt, in his nightshirt, said we'd waked
'e instead!
Then Bernard Mace, with his old string bass, said
we better 'ad leave this place,
Off he blew with Amos Draper, trailin' yards of toilet
paper,
Arnold Slugg, with his two-gallon jug, for speed was
not designed,
I ran like a fox, but the parson's boxer followed
I close behind!
Then one day, old farmer Grey, come to me and this
did say
All 'is beasts like music playin', and would we kindly
serenade 'em?
Off we sped to the old cowshed, the cows they did
adore us
They wagged their tails and banged their pails, and
joined in every chorus!
Then Bernard Mace and the old string bass, a girt
big jersey licked his face,
'Nother got attached to Amos Draper, chewed up 'alf
his roll of paper,
Filled the jug of Arnold Slugg, 'is kindness to acknowledge,
And I got a kiss from a pretty young miss in the Agricultural
College!
So, in one week we quite uniquely topped the charts
in the farmer's weekly,
Play your cows our rhythm and blues, you'll get three
times more milk than usual,
We got plans, and lots of fans, no rivals do we fear
-
'Cos every cow knows Mumma don't allow no jug band
music in here!
Now Bernard Mace has a shirt of lace, and 'is hair
completely 'ides his face,
So does that of Amos Draper, gets between 'is comb
and paper,
Arnold Slugg 'as an empty jug, broke our mothers'
hearts,
We look so queer in all this gear, since we 'it the
charts!
