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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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