Results 1 to 8 of 8

Thread: Tongue twisters. Not for the squeamish.

Threaded View

Previous Post Previous Post   Next Post Next Post
  1. #4
    Head Groundskeeper OldMike's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2015
    Location
    Off his tree in Manchester UK
    Posts
    11,310
    You gotta love the complete song

    Hope it isn't too risque for this forum, don't want to annoy the Purple haired boss lady

    The Pheasant Plucking Song

    Me husband is a keeper, he's a very busy man,
    I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
    But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
    All alone and plucking pheasants when I'd rather pluck with him.

    I'm not the pheasant plucker,
    I'm the pheasant plucker's mate
    And I'm only plucking pheasants
    Cos the pheasant plucker's late.

    I'm not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
    Though some peasants find it pleasant I'd much rather pluck a duck,
    Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
    But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven't any grease.

    I'm not the pheasant plucker,
    He has gone out on the tiles,
    He only plucked one pheasant
    And I'm sitting here with piles.

    You have to pluck them fresh, if they're fresh it's not unpleasant,
    I knew a man in Dunstable, could pluck a frozen pheasant.
    They say the village constable has pheasant plucking sessions
    With the vicar of a Sunday 'twixt the first and second lessons.

    I'm not the pheasant plucker,
    I'm the pheasant plucker's son,
    And I'm only plucking pheasants
    Till the pheasant plucker's come.

    My good friend Godfrey's most adept, he's really got the knack,
    He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
    I try and lend a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
    It's really all this pheasant plucking keeps us here together.

    I'm not the pheasant plucker,
    I'm the pheasant plucker's friend,
    And I'm only plucking pheasants
    As a means unto an end.

    Me husband's in the woods all day, a-banging with his gun,
    If he could hear me heartfelt cries, then surely he would run,
    For I've fluff in all me crannies and there's feathers up me nose,
    And I'm itchin' in the kitchin' from me head down to me toes.

    I'm not the pheasant plucker,
    I'm the pheasant plucker's wife,
    And when we pluck together
    It's a pheasant plucking life!

  2. The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to OldMike For This Useful Post:

    purplefan (27-11-15)

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •