I'll sing of Lumley Kettlewell, a man of Yorkshire fame In Bolton ?Thursley? he was born and there he made his name Although a wealthy farmer's son, & posessed of health most rude He spent his whole life trying to prove that no-one needed food
Chorus: In spite of Lumley Kettlewell and all he had to say It seems that man was born to eat until his dying day
Now you might think him funny, or consider him berserk But think of the advantages if Lumley's theory worked Goodbye to indigestion and adieu to diarrhea A little abdominal emptiness is all you'd have to fear
The strictest of experiments he ably carried through He starved his dog, he starved his horse, he starved his donkey too To cure their dreadful habit, of eating between gaps And when success was in his grasp, the poor beasts just collapsed
He saw food as an evil and disdained a good square meal Plates of chips and Yorkshore pud for him had no appeal He practiced and he practiced to perfect the food-free day And just when he'd perfected it, the poor sod passed away
So when the final trumpets blow and mortals bow down low To those grand men of science who taught us all we know With Einstein, Pasteur, Curie too, let Lumley take his seat His failure proves that truth of truths, you die unless you eat
Transcribed by Neil Jennings From a BBC Folkweave performance, date unknown