From "A SPANIARD IN THE WORKS" - John Lennon, 1965
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 
That's 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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I love it! I own 2 of my own!!!
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