Peter Combe

“This little pig went to market.
This little pig stayed home.
This little pig had roast beef, followed by pizza.
And this little pig went to a Kylie Minogue concert.
But this little pig went oh oh oh oh oh oh oh all ze way home.”

First little pig who went off to market
Brought home his friend John Cleese
And soon as were able sat down at table
And ate up the bread and cheese

Pig number two well he was the shy one
He liked to stay at home
He did the cleaning, washing and ironing
He gave the dog his bone

Third little pig well he was a fat pig
Plump as a pudding was he
Roast beef for breakfast, roast beef for lunch
Then roast beef for afternoon tea

The last little pig well he didn’t really have much
He didn’t really have much at all
He moped around the house with a sad look on his face
Unlike Cinderella he never went to the ball
And he said:
I’ve never been to market
I’ve only ever stayed home
I’ve never ever had roast beef
I’ve never had anything at all

This little pig shall go to market
This little pig shall leave home
This little pig shall have roast beef
This little pig shall have it all

What could be better than you and me together
Walking down Spangle Road?
Where the blue skies are bluer
And the green grass is greener
And walking down Spangle Road
As a friend you’re a little crazy but kind
But again well I don’t really mind
Oh-oh what could be better than you and me together
And walking down Spangle Road?

We’ve been like brothers for all of these years
Walking and talking as friends
We can recall all the good times and bad
But bad times have come to an end
Oh-oh-oh

We’ve stuck together through thick and through thin
And wondered just where it would end
But the hills and the dales and the highways and trails
Are leading us back home again
Oh-oh-oh

“Hands up he who likes cooking in the kitchen. Yes.
Hands up whose mother also likes them cooking in the kitchen.
Hands up whose mother just loves to clean up the mess made by you cooking in the kitchen.
Hands up people who promise faithfully to clean up the mess after they’ve cootched kick uh cooked in the kitchen but a dab is a dibber dabber do.
That’s what I thought. This song is for people just like you. My friends, Jeffrey Hill.”

Jeffrey Hill liked to cook in the kitchen
When his mother was asleep in bed
But when she awoke and saw what he was doing
Her face was filled with dread. He had

Mrs Hill said ‘I know you like cooking
But please do it when I’m awake
I’d like to be around to help with your creating
And avoid some of the mess you make. Things like

Jeffrey cooked a cake for his mother on Mother’s Day
It was to be a big surprise
He tried not to slop things all over the kitchen
But it’s hard when you’re only five. He still got

Eggs on his legs, milk on the chair
Sugar on his nose, flour in his hair
Eggs on his legs, milk on the chair
Sugar on his nose, flour in his hair

He got
Beans on his jeans, goo on his shoe
Peas on his knees, jelly on his belly
Sauce on the horse, fat on the cat
Toast on the post, spaghetti on the jetty
Prunes on the moon, buns on the sun
“Onions on his bunions? Stickers on his knickers?”
Eggs on his legs, milk on the chair
Sugar on his nose, flour in his hair
Jeffrey Hill