 Dear
Old Daddy's WhiskersWe have a dear old Daddy whose hair is silver grey He has a set of whiskers - they're always in the way Chorus: Oh, they're always in the way, the cow eats them for hay Mother eats them in her sleep She thinks she's eating shredded wheat. They're always in the way. We have a dear old Mummy. She likes his whiskers too. She uses them for cleaning and stirring up a stew. Around the supper table, we make a merry group Until dear Daddy's whiskers get tangled in the soup. The hottest days of summer are getting pretty good 'Cause Daddy waves his whiskers and cools the neighbourhood
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