Out the gate and up the lane
The allotment is calling again
I'm there nearly every day
It's my happy place
And when I'm on my hands and knees
Ears filled with crowspeak and buzzing bumble bees
The nasturtiums sway and worry slips away

Pulling up the turnips
Thinning down the carrots and leeks
Tying on the sweetpeas
Pruning back the branches of the pear tree
Mucking out the chickens
Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel

It's Karen who was always the green-fingered one
I don't really know what I am doing

Would you like another cuppa?
Could you manage a slice of toast
Or a little bit of soup, my flower?

Out the gate and up the lane
The allotment is calling again
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah

Pottering in the shed
Building a new raised-bed for spuds
Sowing beets and broadbeans
Waging war on nettles and bindweed
Taking in the sunset
Repairing a puncture in the polytunnel
In the polytunnel