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THRESHING SONG

It's all very well to have a machine
To thrash your wheat and barley clean
To thrash it and whim it, all fit for sale
And take it to market brisk and well

Singing tumble dum deary, flair up Mary
Make her old table shine

The man who made her, he made her so well
He made each cog and wheel to tell
While the big wheel hums, the little 'um hums
And the feeder sits above the drum

There's old Father Howard the sheaves to put
While old Mother Howard, she does make up
And Mary she sits and feeds all day
And Johnny, he carries the straw away
At seven o'clock we do begin
And we usually stop about nine or ten
To have our beer and to oil her up
Then off we go till one o'clock

Then after a bite and a drink all round
The driver climbs to his box again
And with his long whip and a shout of "All right"
He drives them round till five at night

@work @farm @technology
recorded by Bob and Ron Copper
filename[ THRESONG
SOF



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