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Dicky Bubby – Another One


Rusty Broadspear

Poor little dicky bubby lying in the dirt

Picked him up gently, wrapped him in a shirt.

Took him to the doctors, the doctor said he’s hurt

And I’ll have to put him to sleep.

Dying little dicky bubby did a weak cheep,

I stroked his tiny wing and started to weep

Tears on feathers – I was in too deep.

Dicky bubby’s life lying on the rocks,

I asked the doctor if he’d got a box

So I could lay dicky bubby to rest.

Held him up to the sky like a boy possessed

In an old soap box but nicely dressed.

Showed him where he flew but got distressed

So buried him in a hole topped with a cross.

Kneeling in the dirt I began to cry

Poor little dicky bubby’s in a different sky

Flying with friends under the Lord's watchful eye

I heard the flutter of his wings

As he flew nearby.

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