Kerrie she never had children

Running ‘round under her feet

Instead she had pigs in the scullery

And they were the scourge of the street


Now Kerrie dressed up her piggies

In waistcoats dresses and tights

And provided them great entertainment

With dances on Saturday night


She’d converted her own tiny dwelling

Into a real pig paradise

With only one cloud on the horizon

The smell wasn’t really so nice


The neighbours they pleaded and begged her

To give up her four footed friends

And offered to help with the clean-up

With kittens to try make amends


But Kerrie was not to be shifted

She doggedly stuck to her guns

And continued to dress up her charges

And feed them on old currant buns


One neighbour in pure desperation

Contacted a friend in Berlin

“I know we’re a peace loving nation

But we are now at our wits end”


Something got lost in translation

And muddled somewhere down the line

And Heindrick the pilot’s instructions

Were to blow up those damn Dublin swines


True to his disciplined nature

His squadron went off to comply

With the lights at the Five Lamps to guide them

They dashingly let their bombs fly


And that was the end of poor Kerrie

And the end of her piggys as well

The ruins turned into a playground

But the never got rid of the smell