Down in Pennsyltucky where the pencils grow,
I hoped that I'd get lucky with a gal named Flo.
She took me to a meadow where the grass was blue,
And fed me tartan custard like the Scots girls do.
We wandered through the willows where the weeds were white as coal,
Meand'ring where the moorhens were mocking at a mole
Where grouse would grumble gravely, geese would grunt in grizzled growls,
While hovering overhead hung hordes of hairy howling owls.
She said: "Enough of nature, and all this rural jazz,
It's time we went back homewards to that fine place Himazazz." And so we strolled the main street up to number 94, And then a few feet more to Himazazz the pub next door.
Himazazz roughly translated as the man who runs.
Source - Oggsford Dictionary.
Sunday, February 24, 2002