There's a little churchyard just along the wayIt used to be Lambeth's finest arrayOf tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers all that jazzTill the war came along and someone dropped a bomb on the lotAnd in this little yard, there's a little old manWith a little shovel in his little bitty handHe seems to spend all his days puffing fags and digging gravesHe hates the reverend vicar and he lives all alone in his homeAh-choo ! excuse mePlease Mr. Gravedigger, don't feel ashamedAs you dig little holes for the dead and the maimedPlease Mr. Gravedigger, I couldn't careIf you found a golden locket full of some girl's hairAnd you put it in your pocketGod, it's pouring downHer mother doesn't know about your sentimental joyShe thinks it's down below with the rest of her toysAnd Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tellSo keep your golden locket all safely hid away in your pocketYes, Mr. GD, you see me every day , st ....ah choo !Standing in the same spot by a certain graveMary-Ann was only 10, full of life and oh so gayAnd I was the wicked man who took her life awayVery selfish, Oh GodNo, Mr. GD, you won't tellAnd just to make sure that you keep it to yourselfI've started digging holes myselfAnd this one here's for youLifted our girl, she apparently doesn't know of itHello misses, thought she'd be a little girlBloody obscene, catch pneumonia or something in this rain
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There's a little churchyard just along the way
It used to be Lambeth's finest array
Of tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers all that jazz
Till the war came along and someone dropped a bomb on the lot
And in this little yard, there's a little old man
With a little shovel in his little bitty hand
He seems to spend all his days puffing fags and digging graves
He hates the reverend vicar and he lives all alone in his home
Ah-choo ! excuse me
Please Mr. Gravedigger, don't feel ashamed
As you dig little holes for the dead and the maimed
Please Mr. Gravedigger, I couldn't care
If you found a golden locket full of some girl's hair
And you put it in your pocket
God, it's pouring down
Her mother doesn't know about your sentimental joy
She thinks it's down below with the rest of her toys
And Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tell
So keep your golden locket all safely hid away in your pocket
Yes, Mr. GD, you see me every day , st ....ah choo !
Standing in the same spot by a certain grave
Mary-Ann was only 10, full of life and oh so gay
And I was the wicked man who took her life away
Very selfish, Oh God
No, Mr. GD, you won't tell
And just to make sure that you keep it to yourself
I've started digging holes myself
And this one here's for you
Lifted our girl, she apparently doesn't know of it
Hello misses, thought she'd be a little girl
Bloody obscene, catch pneumonia or something in this rain
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