What's the gooder being good?
Always every day
Somefing comes and compradicks
Everyfing I play.
I was digging in the garden
And I digged me toe,
Why do I do that for?
I do n't know!
Then I goes and chases Sufi,
Sufi wo n't be chased:
I falled over the wheelbarrow
And hurted all me waist.
I tooks me little pictures out
And laid them in a row,
I told the wind to stop away
And not come round and blow.
Up there comes a norful wind
And brushed the lot away:
Daddie, Gord's been‘ noying me
All this day.