[Intro - Lively solo fiddle kicks in, joined by a stomping foot beat] [Verse 1] Kev was a man of the Bodmin soil, A life of diesel and honest toil, Groundskeeper prime for the Town Council crew, In a hi-vis vest of a neon hue. The fog was thick on the football pitch, As he steered his mower past the drainage ditch, He hit a bump and the air went thin, And the world started spinning like a copper tin. [beat drop - sudden heavy accordion chord] [Chorus - Roaring communal folk energy] Oh, Kev’s gone back to the days of old, With a gallon of petrol and a heart of gold! The knights all stare at his spinning blade, The finest gardener the King ever made! From the Bodmin bypass to the castle gate, He’s mowing down the grass and he’s tempting fate! [Verse 2] He landed hard on a village green, The strangest sight that they’d ever seen, With his four-stroke engine and his greasy cap, The local peasants thought it was a trap. A knight rode up on a chestnut mare, Said "What be this beast with the smoky flare?" Kev just nodded and he checked his oil, Said "I’m here to save you from your garden coil." [Short, fast whistle solo] [Verse 3 - Dense flow, witty and quick] He didn’t have a sword but he had a pull-start, Won the local duchess with his mechanical art, No need for a trebuchet or a heavy longbow, When you’ve got a mulch-plug and a steady mow. He trimmed the moat till the water looked neat, Gave the royal courtyard a botanical treat, While the friars were praying for a bit of rain, Kev was clearing weeds like a high-speed train. "It’s a miracle!" cried the Bishop of Bath, As Kev mowed a perfect three-foot path. [Chorus - Evolved, even more energetic] Oh, Kev’s the King of the days of old, With a gallon of petrol and a heart of gold! The Baron’s impressed by the cylinder height, He’s the only groundskeeper who’s been dubbed a knight! From the council flat to the throne of state, He’s the master of the meadows and he’s feeling great! [Bridge - Slower, more melodic fiddle and banjo] But the tank is low and the fuel is rare, There’s no Shell station in the village square. He’s charging ten shillings for a tidy lawn, Working every hour from the break of dawn. [pause] (Where’s the unleaded?) [pause] He’s a long way from Cornwall, isn’t he? [Guitar and Fiddle Duel - High energy, building tension] [Verse 4] The King offered gold and a princess too, But Kev just sighed as the engine blew. A final sputter and a puff of smoke, The great green legend was finally broke. But they carved his name in the cathedral stone, The man who sat on the sit-on throne. Now the grass grows wild where the hero stood, The patron saint of the neighborhood. [Outro - Slowing down to a single stomp and fiddle pluck] Still... Better than a Tuesday in Bodmin. [Final accordion squeeze] [End]
