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As well as drink you can get, a little bit of grub, For a gathering of the locals, this was the hub, News and gossip turned around in the village pub. As in all small villages it changes over the years, in some way for the better, in others for the worse...
Mullee's the bloke, Mullee's the name, Paul's the one to call, Goes everywhere for everyone, as out of bed he crawls, Brian ( Kansas) may like this one although I seem to have more negatives than positive, but you do report all the extremes...
She was the last to live in her old cottage, thatch had rotted away, Half timbered filled in with brick, they were built that way, Wattle and daub up the chimney breast, above the inglenook, Cast iron range and chimney crane, hang kettle to boil on hook...
Paul he drives a Fastrac, shooting everywhere, For to make baled silage, never much time to spare, Does his best to satisfy, his customers' enemas, Gets on and gets the job done, rolling up the grass. Over the last few years I have been writing about...