Do you know Geordie Barnett, that silly old clown,
Who carries a hammer about the Sixtowns?,
He’s tried for uranium in every rock,
Till a finger of his got a terrible knock.
The blood it came rushing, not watery or thin,
And some folk were surprised there was any in him,
But it rushed out for hours, till his house was a sight,
In fact, the poor fellow was almost bled white.
So he went down the road to the Office nearby,
To get him a doctor, the Devlins did try,
And a fine lady doctor was there in a tick,
And rushed through the doorway with a bagful of tricks.
She sewed up the wounds, as tight as she could,
And powdered him well to dry up his blood,
Barbed wire she screwed up tremendously tight,
Then bandaged him left, aye, and bandaged him right.
She dabbed him all over, with needles galore,
And he ne’er gave a grin, though his flesh it was sore,
For he knew it was helpful to have the thing done,
And so he looked on it as only for fun.
Now, Geordie, she says ‘just you keep from the stones,
Till the skin grows again on your very dry bones’,
So go home he went then, through a drizzle of rain,
And straight away, started to hammer again.
So that is the way when your interest is up,
It’s hard for to leave off, it’s hard for to stop,
So he’ll keep at the same work, by night and by day,
Till he breaks his own neck, he will hammer away.
George Barnett 