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Woad What's the use of wearing braces, Hats or spats or boots with laces, Coats and vests you buy in places Down on Brompton Road? What's the use of shirts of cotton, Studs that always get forgotten? These affairs are simply rotten-- Better far is woad. Woad's the stuff to show men, Woad to scare your foemen Boil it to a brilliant blue And rub it on your back and your abdomen. Ancient Britons never hit on Anything as fine as woad to fit on Neck or knees or where you sit on-- Tailors, you'll be blowed! Romans crossed the English Channel All dressed up in tin and flannel; Half a pint of woad per man'll Clothe us more than these. Saxons, you can keep your stitches, For making beds for bugs in britches We have woad to clothe us which is Not a nest for fleas. Romans, save your armors, Saxons, your pajamas, Hairy coats were made for goats, Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs and llamas. March on Snowdon with your woad on Never mind if you get rained or snowed on. Never need a button sewed on, W-O-A-D woad (or, Glory be to woad!)(or, Bollocks to the breeze!) sung by Joe Hickerson DC
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!