Nagekomen bericht: Hole in the ground

Er kwam nog een vage herinnering op, die in werkelijkheid zo bleek te gaan:

THE HOLE IN THE GROUND
by Bernard Cribbins

There I was, a-digging this hole
A hole in the ground, so big and sort of round it was
There was I, digging it deep
It was flat at at the bottom and the sides were steep
When along, comes this bloke in a bowler which he lifted and scratched his head

Well we looked down the hole, poor demented soul and he said

Do you mind if I make a suggestion?

Don't dig there, dig it elsewhere
You're digging it round and it ought to be square
The shape of it's wrong, it's much much too long
And you can't put a hole where a hole don't belong

I ask, what a liberty eh
Nearly bashed him right in the bowler

Well there was I, stood in me hole
Shovelling earth for all I was worth
There was him, standing up there
So grand and official with his nose in the air
So I gave him a look sort of sideways and I leaned on my shovel and sighed

Well I lit me a fag and having took a drag I replied

I just couldn't bear, to dig it elsewhere
I'm digging it round 'cos I don't want it square
And if you disagree it don't bother me
That's the place where the hole's gonna be

Well there we were, discussing this hole
A hole in the ground so big and sort of round
Well it's not there now, the ground's all flat
And beneath it is the bloke in the bowler hat.

And that's that!