Uncle Carbuncle

There’s a man at the bottom of my garden,

His name is Uncle Carbuncle,

One day his body did harden,

Poor old Uncle Carbuncle.

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We wrapped him up in toilet roll,

Papery Uncle Carbuncle,

And shaped his buttocks into a face of a mole,

Animal old Uncle Carbuncle.

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On top of a wheel-barrow he we did load,

Loaded on Uncle Carbuncle,

We strapped him on to his favourite commode,

Smelly old Uncle Carbuncle.

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Off we went to the local dump,

Dumped old Uncle Carbuncle,

We hacked up his body ‘til only a stump,

Stumpy old Uncle Carbuncle.

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Off home we went without a care,

F**k off Uncle Carbuncle,

To put on our heads, his soiled underwear,

Party old Uncle Carbuncle.