The Water Is Wet

The water is wet, he cannot swim;

Nor does he have any water wings.

Bring me a boot - bring me a pair -

I'll walk away, I care not where.

Oh Wally, Wally, love is jolly,

And stands so proud, when first it's new;

But Wally grows old, and waxes cold,

And fades away, like the morning dew.

I leant my backing to an oak,

Thinking he'd take me to the top;

But he was bent, and he went broke,

From mighty oaks little acorns drop.

Oh Wally Wally, love is melancholy,

And my desire is hard to bear;

But Wally grows old, and uncontrolled,

He comes and goes, e'er I'm prepared.

Down in yon meadow, the other day,

A-gathering flowers, fine and gay;

A-gathering flowers, both red and blue,

I little thought that's what Wally would do.

Oh Wally, Wally, love is folly,

And like a duel, unto the death.

And Wally grows old, and not so bold,

Soon he will take his final breath.

A ship there is, that sails the sea;

It's loaded deep with my Wally,

But not so deep as the trouble he's in -

For the water laps around the brim.

Oh Wally, Wally, love was Molly;

Proud as a tower with chimes within.

But she'll grow old, if her bell's not tolled;

Tha water is wet - he cannot swim.

Copyright Chris Sugden 1996