OH PETER
We gathereth here this evening
To celebrate the birth
Of the man they nameth Peter
A man of stature and great girth
We celebrate thee at 50
Thou art a man of savvy
Now beware ye suppeth too much grog
And pebbledash ye lavvy
Now Peter hath so many names
I inform ye rogues and slappers
But the one we useth most round here
Is Daphne, or simply Daffers
Oh Daphne, Oh Daphne
Thou art a rugged sailor
How cometh thee by such a name
That rendereth thee a Gaylord?
Now Peter liketh to wander naked
And displayeth his body so burly
To reveal his girth that cost the earth
And flasheth his short and curlies
I have heard tell he hath two butt holes
A spare for mooning and frolicks
But the real reason God gave him two
Is one’s for talking …..bollicks
Oh Peter, Oh Peter
Such a local hero
But thou always goest a step too far
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dearo
Now Peter hath a wonderful wife
A fine looking buxom wench
Who beareth up to his antics well
And tolerateth his stench
One night poor Elfie collapseth
And on the floor she goes
Our hero breaketh down the door
And busteth her bloomin’ nose
Oh Peter, Oh Peter
How doth thy good wife cope?
It can’t be very easy
Betrothed to such a dope
But should we feel for little Elf
His long-suffering trouble and strife?
Or is she in fact a lucky wench
To be his fortunate wife?
Oh Elfie, Oh Elfie
Thou pickest on Peter a-plenty
Thou moanest one hundred words a minute
And gusteth to one hundred and twenty
Now Peter hath a daughter
He meaneth her no harm
But the dozy plank performeth a prank
That breaketh her sodding arm
Oh Sarah, Oh Sarah
Thou art a loyal daughter
Even when he catapulteth thee off a plank of wood
When he really shouldn’tve oughta
And Peter hath a son so fair
A fine young whippersnapper
Who drinketh ale and letcheth totty
Just like his dear old papa
Oh Sammy, Oh Sammy
Tonight thou art sadly missed
But rest assured he won’t be bored
He’ll be aboard a broad and pissed
Oh Peter, Oh Peter
Don’t ever be forgetting
We all do love thee dearly
Thou dozy f***ing cretin
Oh Peter, oh one and all
It’s time to hoik those britches
For Pete’s sake raise your glass of grog
To one of Hampsthwaite’s finest bitches
THE END