Find Me a Donkey

 

The old woman was tired and grey

She didn't mind going, she'd had her day -

She had only one regret.

She wondered as she lay there on her bed

"Who'll feed the pigeons when I'm dead?"

The old peasant walked on down

The dirty dusty rusty road

Whistling his favourite song

And wondering where his donkey went.

The little old lady died

A donkey pulled her coffin

And now the old peasant

Feeds the pigeons every day.