Posted by: tootingtrumpet | August 19, 2013

Oh Belly Boy

BellyOh Belly Boy, the runs, the runs are coming

Trent Bridge to Lord’s, and at The Riverside

The summer’s yours, and all the records falling

‘Tis you, ’tis you must bat and I must bide.

 

But come ye back when winter’s in the meadow

Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow

‘Tis you’ll be in Aus in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Belly Boy, oh Belly Boy, I love you so.

 

But when he come, and all the runs are flowing

If I am cold, as cold I well may be

You’ll come and find the TV where I am watching

And sweep and say an “‘Ave it” just for me.

 

And I shall hear, tho’ soft you tread Down Under

And all my flat will warm and sweeter be

For you will bat and show me that you love us

And I shall sleep until you score a ton for me.

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