… / Try to go out with David Watts

oh a bun a big fat bun

a big fat yellow bun

for Mr Man and a bun

for Mrs Man and a bun

for Master Man and a bun

for Miss Man and a bun

a big fat bun

for everyone

four two eight seven one

four two eight seven one

till all the buns are done

and everyone is gone

home to oblivion

 

Then the singing ended.

Of these two verses Watt thought he preferred the former. Bun is such a sad word, is it not? And man is not much better, is it?

 

[Second and final verse of the song from Beckett’s novel Watt (1953/1968).  WordPress’s limited & inflexible formatting options won’t let you type any old way you’d like. Would you have preferred the song to have been single-spaced? I sure would.]

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