Find Me a Donkey
The old woman was tired and grey
She didn't mind going, she'd had her day -
She had only one regret.
She wondered as she lay there on her bed
"Who'll feed the pigeons when I'm dead?"
The old peasant walked on down
The dirty dusty rusty road
Whistling his favourite song
And wondering where his donkey went.
The little old lady died
A donkey pulled her coffin
And now the old peasant
Feeds the pigeons every day.