I've got the eight on Sunday morning,
Meant to have a lie-in,
Who's started up that chainsaw blues.
They're cutting our tree!
Cutting OUR tree!!
Our neighbour's cutting down our tree, blues.
We'd told him that he couldn't,
Told him that he shouldn't,
Said we wouldn't stand for it, too.
He said he wouldn't do it,
He'd ask if wanted to do it,
But he's just gone and done it, true.
He's done it in the past,
He's cut and never asked,
He's cut and hid the cuttings so it can't be proved,
And now, at eight am
He's done it again,
He's cut the sycamore and with it my snooze.

It might relieve my feelings to be able to sing loudly as I pass, but basically, I'm just letting my feelings rip. Ignore this if you want.