mor-r-r-r-r-r-r-rning

Updated: May 3, 2025

I've a feeling I could eat rubber hose and call it sweet, And me hands is warped from lugging bits of track. Oh, me closes they are tore, and me shoulders they are sore, And I sometimes wish that I had died a 'borning'; And me eye is full of dirt, and there's gravel in me shirt, But I'm going back to Siwash in the mor-r-r-r-r-r-r-rning.

George Fitch - At Good Old Siwash