Some folks like to boast of their fathers occupation
Dustmen and the like and other situations
Not so our old man, his work it is his pride
With his hob nail boots and gators
And his dung fork at his side

Rum ba dyda dyda
Rum ba dyda dyda oh

Hi ho fiddle liddle low
Chesterfield to Cheddar
Hi ho the folks all know
He's a champion dung spreader

Now his aim is straight and true and when his arms start flayling
Oh we all get out the way when the good brown lumps go sailing
Just leave our old man where the dung lies piled thick
And he'll make it flay for miles
With his godd thick blackthorn stick

Rum ba dyda dyda
Rum ba dyda dyda oh

Hi ho fiddle liddle low
Chesterfield to Cheddar
Hi ho the folks all know
He's a champion dung spreader

Now many years ago when dad were in his power
With a mighty two hand swipe he hit the old church tower
Lord help us said the vicar, 'tis the judgement come
No chance said the curate
It is a hundred weight of dung

Hi ho fiddle liddle low
Chesterfield to Cheddar
Hi ho the folks all know
He's a champion dung spreader

Rum ba dyda dyda
Rum ba dyda dyda oh

Now as you all can see while me fathers quite contented
Got the finest job since work it were invented
And when our old man, lies down to die
It'll be a forty acre field and the dung piled six feet high

Hi ho fiddle liddle low
Chesterfield to Cheddar
Hi ho the folks all know
He's a champion dung spreader.
