Marzo Plod Songtext
von Stackridge

Marzo used to plod
On the routes that crossed the countryside
For he would not catch a bus to ride
And his mouldy dungarees he′d worn for forty years
The only liquid he consumed was frozen beer

Old Tin Lips was his friend
When they joined the Boy Scouts Jamboree
They destroyed my brother's charity
And together they dissected several cardboard sleds
Marzo kept a few of them in greasy mugs
Oh, Marzo, Marzo

Marzo, when a boy
Would delight in all adversity
For he would not leave the nursery
He was most annoyed to find he could not spell his name
The letters must have fallen down a local drain


He wandered to and fro
In the midst of blissful ignorance
He observed a constant vigilance
Purple spaceships used to land on Latin Bowling Green
Marzo fired the aliens′ steel-plated beams
Oh, Marzo, Marzo

Marzo in the streets
Used to thrash his rhubarb frantically
While his left hand was tied to his uncle's knee
He would pick a speck of pepper from the morning dew
He even washed his overcoat in compost brew

For no one would believe
That he was born in 1563
Yet he's the youngest of his family
And his father still is working for the CIA
Marzo is the strangest man alive today
Oh, Marzo, Marzo