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Short stairt tunie
afore singin',
'Git Redd or Brunt Reed'
Het simmer's sinsheen's nar,
Beilin' harns an' saft'nin' tar,
Reed'nin' backs, peelin' snoots,
Brunt saan flees hap-skip an' jimp aboots.
Loats o' sin-crame's thrangly plaister'd oan,
Ye'll luik lik tap dreepin' ice-crame cone.
Lipsaa protecks,
Dairk tint specs,
Unner shadda o' yer parasol's dweeble hap,
There ye are redd tae oorlichly stap,
Fan het simmer's sinsheen's nar.
Short Piano Interlude before singing,
'Get Ready or Burn Red'
Hot summer's sun's not far,
Boiling brains and soft'ning tar,
Red'ning backs, peeling noses,
Burnt sand flies hop-skip do ring-a-roses.
Lots of sun-cream thickly plastered on,
You are like the top of a dripping ice-cream cone.
Lip-salve protects.
Dark tinted specs.
In the shadow of your parasol's feeble cover.
You are prepared to mis'rably suffer.
When hot summer's sunshine's near.
[Words composed by John on 24th March, 2005] |
