I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s son
I’m only plucking pheasants ’till the pheasant plucker comes.
Me husband is a keeper, he’s a very busy man
I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes in an evening I feel a trifle dim
All alone, I’m plucking pheasants, when I’d rather pluck with him.
I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s mate
I’m only plucking pheasants ‘cos the pheasant plucker’s late !
I’m not good at plucking pheasants, at pheasant plucking I get stuck
Though some pheasants find it pleasant I’d rather pluck a duck.
Oh plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But pheasant plucking’s torture because they haven’t any grease.
I’m not a pheasant plucker, he has gone out on the tiles
He only plucked one pheasant and I’m sitting here with piles !
You have to pluck them fresh, if it’s fresh they’re not unpleasant,
I knew a man in Dunstable who could pluck a frozen pheasant.
They say the village constable had pheasant plucking sessions
With the vicar on a Sunday ‘tween the first and second lessons.
I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s mum
I’m only plucking pheasants ’till the pheasant plucker’s come.
My good friend Godfrey is most adept, he’s really got the knack
He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
I like to give a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
It’s really all our pheasant plucking keeps us pair together.
I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s friend
I’m only plucking pheasants as a means unto an end !
My husband’s in the forest always banging with his gun
If he could hear me half the time I’m sure that he would run,
For there’s fluff in all my crannies, there’s feathers up my nose
And I’m itching in the kitchen from my head down to my toes.
I’m not a pheasant plucker, I’m a pheasant plucker’s wife
And when we pluck together it’s a pheasant plucking life !