|
Some young WRGie volunteers were
camping with friends,
On the banks of the gentle Great Ouse,
When down in
a torrent came the rains without end,
And turned all the watermeadows to
Ooze.
They slipped and they floundered, they churned up the mud
They laid
down a yellow brick road.
But they started a fashion for wellies with
passion,
And turned to each other and said…
Altogether now- one last time!
Mud! Mud! glorious
mud!
Nothing quite like it to follow a flood!
So follow me follow
Down
to the meadow
And there let us wallow in glorious mud.
Originally written
for FuStIer, the spoof edition of the newsletter at the IWA "National"
in 2007. |
