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I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
All alone and plucking pheasants when I'd rather pluck with him.
I'm not the pheasant plucker,
I'm the pheasant plucker's mate
And I'm only plucking pheasants
Cause the pheasant plucker's late.
I'm not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
Though some peasants find it pleasant I'd much rather pluck a duck,
Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven't any grease.