IN OUR LITTLE GARDEN SUB-BUB
 
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I feel like a fighting man, I'm fit and fat and fine
Since I've lived in a little garden sub-bub up the line
Though to call it a suburb is the fashionable way
But I call it a sub-bub 'cos it's easier to say
If town life's too fast for you and country life too slow
Don't make a bungle of your life but build a bungalow

Chorus: In our little garden sub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
Tired of the club-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.


We draw all our water from a well. Well, I say well
Well, we call it a well, though it doesn't work so well
And to judge by the smell our tabby cat that wasn't well
Said all's well that ends well and got drowned down in the well
But who wants a well, ay? Who the dickens wants a well?
While I've a barrel full of bass the well can go to...

Chorus: Well in our little garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
Far away from the noise and the hub-bub-bub-bub-bub
When you've tired of the pub-bub
And you're tired of the club-bub-bub-bub
Take a little house in the garden sub-bub-bub-bub-bub
There you can grow stewed rub-bub-bub-bub-bub
And you can bath in an old rain tub-bub-bub-bub
So leave all the hub-bub, and the pub-bub and the club-bub
And grow your own grub-bub in the sub-bub.
 
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Written and composed by Bob Weston and Bert Lee - 1922
Performed by Ernie Mayne (1871-1937)
 
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