the laughing gnome

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i was walking – down the high street – when i heard footsteps behind me ,

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and there was a little old man in scarlet and grey , chuckling away .

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well he trotted – back to my house – and he sat beside the telly ,

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with his tiny hands on his tummy , chuckling away , chugging all day .

[ spoken ] “i ought to report you to the gnome office . ” “gnome office , ha , ha , ha!”

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ha , ha , ha! – hee , hee , hee! – i’m a laughing gnome and you can’t catch me . –

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ha , ha , ha! – hee , hee , hee! – i’m a laughing gnome and you can’t catch me . –

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said the laughing gnome .

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well i gave him – roasted toad – stools – and a glass of dandelion wine .

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then i put him on a train to eastbourne and carried his bag and gave him a fag .

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“ave you got a light boy?” “’ere! where do you come from?”

“gnome – man’s land . ” “oh , really . ”

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in the morning – when i woke up – he was sitting on the edge of my bed –

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with his brother whose name was fred . he’d brought him along – to sing me a song . –

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“alright let’s here it?” “’ere! what’s that clicking sound?”

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“that’s fred . he’s a metrognome . ” “own up . i’m a gnome , ain’ i?”

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“ain’t you got a gnome to go to?”

“no! we’re gnomads . ” “didn’t they teach you to get your ’aircut at school? you
look like a rolling gnome . ”

“not at the london school of ecognomics . ”

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now they staying – up the chimney – and we’re living on caviar and honey –

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’cause they’re earning me lots of money , writing comedy prose for radio shows .

“it’s the er – it’s the gnome service , of course . ”

[ repeat chorus and fade ]