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The Wurzels
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The Shepton Mallet Matador
Now Jacko was so happy,
just working on the farm.
With the cows and the chickens,
he couldn't do no harm.
For years and years
he worked and he scraped and he saved,
to take on day the holiday he craved.
Now he'll never be the same again,
since he took that holiday in Spain!
Oh ho make way for that Timsbury terero.
Ole, for the Somerset senor.
He's a real West Country cavalero.
The Shepton Mallet matador!
Now the boys in the village all think it's very queer,
the way that Jacko drinks wine instead of beer.
And they say he swapped his favourite cider jar
for a bottle of sherry and a 30 bob guitar.
Oh ho, make way for that Timsbury torero.
Ole, for that Somerset senor.
He's a real West Country cavalero.
The Shepton Mallet matador!
Now the pigs and the chickens are digging up the dirt
when Jacko comes waving his old red flannel shirt.
And he's always chasing round the old red cow,
'cause he thinks that he's
a real bull fighter now.
Oh ho, make way for the Timsbury torero.
Ole, for that Somerset senor.
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He's a real West Country cavalero.
The Shepton Mallet matador!
On the farm if you hear hoots and howls,
it's Jacko playing flamenco with the fowls.
And every time he clicks his castanets,
instead of eggs
the hens lay omelletes.
Oh ho, make way for that Timsbury torero.
Ole, for that Somerset senor.
He's a real West Country cavalero.
The Shepton Mallet matador!
Oh ho make way for that Timsbury torero.
Ole, for that Somerset senor.
He's a real West Country cavalero.
The Shepton Mallet matador.
Now the farmer's misses went wild with delight,
when Jacko serenaded her last night.
But the farmer stopped him singing Ceilito Lindo
with a bucket of summit,
he threw from an upstairs window.
La la, la la, la la la
Viva Chew Magna!
La la, la la, la la la
The Shepton Mallet matador.
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