by John Lennon
I have a little budgie
He is my very pal 
I take him walks in Britain I hope I always shall. 
I call my budgie Jeffrey 
My grandads name's the same 
I call him after grandad 
Who had a feathered brain. 
Some people don't like budgies 
The little yellow brats 
They eat them up for breakfast
Or give them to their cats. 
My uncle ate a budgie 
It was so fat and fair. 
I cried and called him Ronnie 
He didn't seem to care.
Although his name was Arthur 
It didn't mean a thing. 
He went into a petshop 
And ate up everything. 
The doctors looked inside him, 
To see what they could do, 
But he had been too greedy 
He died just like a zoo. 
My Jeffrey chirps and twitters 
When I walk into the room, 
I make him scrambled egg on toast
And feed him with a spoon. 
He sings like other budgies 
But only when in trim 
But most of all on Sunday 
Thats when I plug him in. 
He flies about the room sometimes 
And sits upon my bed 
And if he's really happy 
He does it on my head. 
He's on a diet now you know 
>From eating far too much 
They say if he gets fatter 
He'll have to wear a crutch. 
It would be funny wouldn't it 
A budgie on a stick 
Imagine all the people 
Laughing till they're sick. 
So that's my budgie Jeffrey 
Fat and yellow too 
I love him more than daddie 
And I'm only thirty two. 
 
 
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