Another digression - sorry! Reading a previous post reminded mje of There once was a farmer who sat on a rock Whistling a tune and abusing his neighbouring farmer and watching the tricks As he taught his wee children to play with their Kites and their marbles as in days of yore When along came a woman who looked like a Decent young lady but walked like a duck She said she was learning a new way to Bring up her children and teach them to knit While the boys in the farmyard were shovelling the Contents of pigsties, the muck and the mire The squire in the farmyard was pulling his Horse from the stable to go to the hunt His wife in the boudoir was pwdering her Nose and arranging her vanity box And taking precautions to ward off the Gay young romantics who made her feel sick Although she'd enjoyed her last dose of What did you think I was going to say No, you rude bastards! That's all for today, The tune, of course, is "Sweet Violets" Going back to the original, I remnember it well as a chilren's song for nasty little pre-pubescent boys in England not long after the war. I find it pretty incredible that there is any truth in it. Would you trust the Russian record to tell the truth about their greatest enemy?
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