frank turner - the armadillo lyrics
i was taking comp-ss bearings for the ordnance survey
on an army training camp on salisbury plain
i had packed up my theodolite, was calling it a day
when i heard a voice that sang a sad refrain:
‘oh, my darling armadillo
let me tell you of my love
listen to my armadillo roundelay;
be my fellow on my pillow
underneath this weeping willow
be my darling armadillo all the day.’
i was somewhat disconcerted by this curious affair
for a single armadillo, you will own
on salisbury plain, in summer, is comparatively rare
and a pair of them is practically unknown
drawn by that mellow solo
there i followed on my bike
to discover what these armadillo
lovers would be like:
‘oh, my darling armadillo
how delightful it would be
if for us those silver wedding bells would chime
let the orange blossoms billow
you need only say ‘i will’-oh
be my darling armadillo all the time.’
then i saw them in a hollow, by a yellow muddy bank
an armadillo singing [?] to an armour-plated tank
should i tell him, gaunt and rusting, with the willow tree above
this – abandoned on manoeuvres – is the object of your love?
i left him to his singing
cycled home without a pause
never tell a man the truth
about the one that he adores
on the breeze that follows sunset
i could hear that sad refrain
singing willow, willow, willow down the way;
and i seemed to hear it still, oh
vive l’amore, vive l’armadillo
‘be my darling armadillo all the day
be my darling armadillo all the day.’
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