When I was little – preschool or early grades – Mum used to play a record called “The Sample Song”. I guess it was from the WWII era.
My sister works in a patchwork factory./She matches the patches.
My clothes are a sight – purple, green and white -
Because she keeps bringing samples home.
It went on about other samples, until “My uncle works in a money factory . . . I heard a man say that he’s gone away, coz he kept bringing samples home.”
They don’t write songs like that anymore. Probably just as well.
When I was little – preschool or early grades – Mum used to play a record called “The Sample Song”. I guess it was from the WWII era.
My sister works in a patchwork factory./She matches the patches.
My clothes are a sight – purple, green and white -
Because she keeps bringing samples home.
It went on about other samples, until “My uncle works in a money factory . . . I heard a man say that he’s gone away, coz he kept bringing samples home.”
They don’t write songs like that anymore. Probably just as well.