Lyrics

I have a little budgie He is my very pal I take him walks in Britain I hope I always shall. I call my budgie Jeffrey My grandad's name’s the same I call him after grandad Who had a feathered brain. Some people don’t like budgies The little yellow brats They eat them up for breakfast Or give them to their cats My uncle ate a budgie It was so fat and fair. I cried and called him Ronnie He didn’t seem to care. Although his name was Arthur It didn’t mean a thing. He went into a petshop And ate up everything. The doctors looked inside him, To see what they could do, But he had been too greedy He died just like a zoo. My Jeffrey chirps and twitters When I walk into a room, I make him scrambled egg on toast And feed him with a spoon. He sings like other budgies But only when in trim But most of all on Sunday That’s when I plug him in. He flies about the room sometimes And sits upon my bed And if he’s really happy He does it on my head. He’s on a diet now you know From eating far too much They say if he gets fatter He’ll have to wear a crutch. It would be funny, wouldn’t it? A budgie on a stick Imagine all the people Laughing till they’re sick. So that’s my budgie Jeffrey Fat and yellow too I love him more than daddie And I’m only thirty-two.