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lyrics

Now dear old Mother Nincompoop
Had nigh twelve month been dead
She heard the hops were pretty good
And she just popped out her head

And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round

Now some of us are Pluckley born
And some are from the shires
And one or two are Gravel Walk
With Woodbines and guitars

And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round

Now half the time we’re mucky mitts
And half the time half-clean
Then it’s mostly we’re kept waiting
Till the measurer’s come and been

And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round

Now twelve o’clock it’s dinner time
Down in the hut we go
There’s apples off the orchard
And there’s cobnuts off the row

And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round

Now when he comes to measure
He never knows where to stop
Why don’t he just get in the bin
And take the sodding lot

And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round

credits

from Monkfish Mix​-​Up At Farmers' Market, released September 20, 2020
Traditional song, arranged and augmented by Paul Carbuncle.

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Paul Carbuncle Nottingham, UK

You can take the lad out of Pluckley but he'll still sing about hops.

Profile photo by Hugh Miller.

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