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Harvest time down in the fens

There’s some thing that’s a stirring

That little wheat fly says to him self

Hey what’s that there occurring

Calls his friends, heads to the sky

There aint no stopping those thunder flies

Thrip Thrip going on a trip

Over the wolds and down the dip

 

See him there at the Heckington show,

The chap who’s where in yella

Covered in thrips from head to toe,

He’s not a local fella.

Shows his shirt turns his back

Next thing you know that yellow shirts black

Thrip Thrip going on a trip

Over the wolds and down the dip

 

Chorus

 

Don’t wear yellow in August

You know that colours to gay

No don’t wear yellow in August

You’ll be

Slapping itching scratching brushing shaking scrubbing flicking rubbing

Wiping turning Squirmin’ all day

 

Double glazing, picture frames

There’s nowhere they cant get

One got in my computer screen

Is that a virus, no, a thrip

In your ears and in your eyes

You’re never gonna stop those thunder flies

Thrip Thrip going on a trip

Over the wolds and down the dip

 

Ride my bike on a summers day

Up on Nocton heath

Give a smile to a pretty girlThere’s a thrip between my teeth

 

 

She’s my girl, my romance

Together we’ll do the fenland dance.

 

Dad a dad a dad a dad a dad a da

Chorus

Thrip Thrip going on a trip

Over the wolds and down the dip

Don’t Wear Yellow in August Brommell, Pout and Glenn

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