There I was, a-digging this hole A hole in the ground, so big and sort of round it was There was I, digging it deep It was flat at at the bottom and the sides were steep When along, comes this bloke in a bowler which he lifted and scratched his head Well we looked down the hole, poor demented soul and he said
Do you mind if I make a suggestion?
Don't dig there, dig it elsewhere Your digging it round and it ought to be square The shape of it's wrong, it's much much too long And you can't put hole where a hole don't belong
I ask, what a liberty eh Nearly bashed him right in the bowler
Well there was I, stood in me hole Shoveling earth for all I was worth There was him, standing up there So grand and official with his nose in the air So I gave him a look sort of sideways and I leaned on my shovel and sighed
Well I lit me a fag and having took a drag I replied
I just couldn't bear to dig it elsewhere I'm digging it round cos I don't want it square And if you disagree it doesn't bother me That's the place where the holes gonna be
Well there we were, discussing this hole A hole in the groud so big and sort of round Well it's not there now, the ground's all flat And beneath it is the bloke in the bowler hat