“I'm not the pleasant, pheasant plucker,
I'm the pleasant, pheasant plucker's son.
And I'm only plucking pheasants until the pleasant, pheasant plucker comes.
Plucking pheasants is a pleasure when the pheasant plucker's near,
But when pheasants pluck at pheasants, then the plucking's rather queer.
So, if I'm plucking pheasants, where the pleasant pheasants roam,
I'll pluck enough for supper till the pleasant plucker's home.
And when the pleasant, pheasant plucker comes,
we'll pluck them side by side,
Through pleasant plains and pheasant fields where pheasants love to hide.”
(several versions of this)
Philbert