The Champion Dung Speader

Now some folks like to boast of their father's occupation

Dustmen and the likes, and other situations

That's so, our old man, working was 'is pride

In 'obnailed boots and gaiters, and a dung fork at 'is side

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, Chesterfield to Cheddar

Hi, ho, the folks all know, he's a champion dung-spreader

Now many years ago, when Dad was in 'is power

With a mighty two-hand swipe he hit the old church tower

"Lord help us," cried the vicar, "Tis the judgement come!"

"Not so," said the verger, "Tis a hundredweight of dung!"

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, Chesterfield to Cheddar

Hi, ho, the folks all know, he's a champion dung-spreader

Now his aim was straight and true, when 'is arms start flailin'

We'd all look out the way, when they girt brown lumps go sailin'

Just leave our old man where the dung lies piled up thick

And he'll make it fly for miles with 'is girt big blackthorn stick

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, Chesterfield to Cheddar

Hi, ho, the folks all know, he's a champion dung-spreader

Now as you all can see, father was quite contented

He had the finest job, since work it was invented

And when our old man laid him down to die

In a forty acre field, with the dung piled six foot high

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, Chesterfield to Cheddar

Hi, ho, the folks all know, he's a champion dung-spreader

Hi, ho, fiddle-iddle-o, Chesterfield to Cheddar

Hi, ho

He's the champion dung-spreader