This is all getting too nice. So - I practise all day on trombone My neighbour does nothing but moan But were I Glenn Miller I'd go round and kill 'er 'Cos the dopey old bat's on her own.My neighbours are actually very nice.
My neighbour's a lousy tromboner He thinks that I'm just an old moaner His playing I'd pardon Were he Jack Teagarden Instead of a bitter old loner I don't live next to Rosie, and my neighbours are also very nice, and don't play the trombone.
To my right there's a lousy tromboner To my left, a trumpeting moaner I'm stuck in the middle With the old plywood fiddle flerdle sold me for forty five Krona
I also practise the piano Which is made from string and Meccanoshort "a" 'Twould not be ungallant To say that my talent Ain't mini or micro; it's nano.
That blasted tromboner's now tinklin' A piano. That bugger's no inklin' He's a Les Dawson bum When he's not George Chisholme As for me my ear drums are a-wrinklin'I hasten to add all persons referred to in this limerick are fictitious and that any resemblance to persons living, dead or undecided is a most unfortunate coincidence. Besides, my tromboning pianist doesn't know anything about meteorology or chemistry. He's an insurance salesman and he lives in Chipping Sodbury.