The Frank Skinner doc did single out "In a Little Wigan Garden" as being a good example of how Formby's double-entendres careered into the surreal.

"When the morning mildew christens our shallots": that's a great line!

I think you can see some of the influence of British folksong in there...


IN A LITTLE WIGAN GARDEN
Written by Fred E. Cliffe & Harry Gifford
Performed by George Formby in "No Limit" (1935)

Talk of your beautiful meadows and fields and your parks so grand
Talk of your wonderful gardens down at Kew.
I know a spot that can beat all the lot it's the best I've seen
Keep all your hills and dales, put me with the slugs and snails.

In a little Wigan garden, where the dandelions grow
With my sweetie frowsy Flo round the mulberry bush we go
Underneath the Wigan Palm trees there I bring her up to scratch
We have such a game on the cucumber frame;
I'd show her the cabbage patch

When the morning mildew christens our shallots,
Scented breezes coming from the chimney pots
In a little Wigan Garden, when the soot is falling down
Oh what a place, what a case, a disgrace to my hometown.

All sorts of things come with wings some with stings every night appear
Glow worms and silkworms and Wigan earwigs too.
Crocuses croak with the fog and the smoke from the gasworks near
The one thing that only grows, is the wart on my sweeties nose

In a little Wigan garden with my little Wiganese
Getting stung with bumble bees, between the cabbages and peas
'Neath the Wigan water lilies where the drainpipe overflows
There's my girl and me she sits on my knee
And watch how the rhubarb grows

'Neath the shady tree to my loved one I cling
While the birds above do everything but sing
It's a rotten Wigan garden, everything grows upside down
Oh what a place what a case, a disgrace to my hometown.