A father who lived out in Golcar
Had hopes that his son would go far
For he practised thrice daily
On his dad’s ukulele
Whilst clad in his mother’s sports bra.
A young lady who dwelt up in Otley
Had a boyfriend most thought of as motley
But she said “He can cook
A good tune on his uke
Which was why I love him quite hotly.”
A uke player who lived in Tadcaster
Played tunes going faster and faster
He said ‘tis no sin
Till he started to spin
And fell into a bucket of plaster.
A lanky young lad from Hornsea
Said “Don’t you go looking at me
For although I’m quite tall
My ukulele is small
And I’d rather that no-one should see.”
A ukulele player from Saltaire
Complained she had nothing to wear
Despite lacking a dress
She strolled out nonetheless
In a G-string she had going spare.
An unremarkable fellow from Hull
Told a busker he was exceptionally dull
Which is why, so they say
He lives, since that day
With a ukulele planted deep in his skull.
A buxom young lass from Bedale
Sank down a whole yard of ale
Then unveiled her charms
With a uke in her arms
And played every note on the scale.
A frolicsome floozy from Filey
Seduced a uke player called Riley
When he liked what she did
He gave her a quid
“It’ll cost you twice that,” she said slyly.
An unfortunate fellow called Bailey
Was keen to hear more ukulele
But he incurred much rage
When he jumped on the stage
And was promptly bounced out of the ceilidh.
A Scarborough lass known as Kayleigh
Loved a local lad plus his ukulele
He said “You’re a dish
But I do prefer fish
Or a mermaid with a tail moist and scaly.”
A butcher who came from Wetwang
Played ukulele and occasionally sang
"My pork chops," he trilled
"taste delicious when grilled
And my bangers put a clang in my twang."
A ukulele player from Cottingham
Her manners she’d wholly forgotten ‘em
Doing a gig at the vicar’s
She took off her knickers
Explainin’ she’d felt much too ‘ot in ‘em.
A crude fellow from Hemingbrough
Played his uke in a style somewhat rough
When asked quite politely
To play it more lightly
He said “Yarbles, I don’t give a stuff!”
A uke player who lived out in Burley
Seemed always incredibly surly
When asked to show cheer
His response was to sneer
“I will - when my straight hair grows curly”
A uke player from Acaster Hill
Once swallowed a dynamite pill
His genital organ
Was found in Todmorden
And his nuts, on a tree ... in Brazil.
A uke player from Harrogate town
Inhaled helium and floated around
Then produced a large pin
Stabbed his belly and grinned
Once again I have let myself down.
A uke player from east Halifax
At accounting was notably lax
He said "Here's my coat
Fill it up with used notes
For I'm damned if I'll pay any tax."
A uke player from near Saddleworth
Was possessed of noteworthy girth
But his peerless rotundity
Obscured his fecundity
When to everyone's shock he gave birth.
An inventive young lady from Settle
Craved a Uke made entirely of metal
But that innovative daughter
Stepped into hot water
When she knackered her mum’s copper kettle.
A ukulele player from Reeth
Was courted by a lad known as Keith
She said “Though he’s harmless
I find it quite charmless
When he plays my uke with his teeth.”
A fellow from Malton called Theo
Played ukulele with a Brazilian trio
Till caught in flagrante
With the bass player’s auntie
And was boxed up in a plane bound for Rio.
A ukulele player from Batley
Played tunes but decidedly flatly
Against all advice
He clobbered it twice
Now he still plays flatly, but rattly.
A voluptuous Uke player from Pickering
With her boyfriend was forever bickering
Till one day in a rage
She stripped off on the stage
Which undeniably set pulses flickering.
A shapely lass from near Little Preston
Played the Uke without any vest on
Said her mother, inflamed
“I am really ashamed
But she says she needs it to rest on.”
Quoth a farmer who lived north of Selby,
“My wife announced she had summat to tell me,
‘From henceforth’ she said,
‘I’m strumming the uke in our bed,’
So finally I do know where Hell be.”
A curvy lass from near Bishop Burton
Played ukulele without any skirt on
Said a lad with a wink
“’Tis a mystery I think
Why she’s concerned to still keep her shirt on.”
An idiotic fellow from York
Strummed his Uke with a rusty, bent fork
Then he mumbled with glee
“It’s my act don’t you see?
For no one would pay me to talk.”
An eccentric lady from near Brandesburton
Played ukulele whilst wrapped in a curtain
She proclaimed “I’m a swan”
Till one day she was gone
But where to, no one seemed quite certain.
Said a uke player who lived out in Croome
“I play often to crowds of buffoons
Though they never stop bleating
Their memories are fleeting
So I need not learn any new tunes.
A ukulele player from Beverley
Was a devotee of the brothers Everly
He played “Wake up Little Susie”
And got pounced on by a floozie
Who broke his shoulder by landing too heavily.
A uke player from near Howden Clough
Thought himself to be manly and tough
But he soon got laid off
With a terrible cough
From strumming outdoors in the buff.
A buxom lass out from Blubberhouses
Played her uke clad in very tight blouses
Said one wife with a frown
Her music is sound
But next time we will blindfold our spouses.
A fellow who dwelt down in Blacktoft
Played his Uke sat alone in his loft
He said with a grin
‘Tis one hell of a din
And most folk think me a bit soft.