Woad

What’s the use of wearing braces
Hats and spats and boots with laces?
All the things you buy in places
Down the Brompton Road
What’s the use of shirts of cotton
Studs that always get forgotten?
These affairs are simply rotten
Better far is woad

Woad’s the stuff to show men
Woad to scare your foemen
Boil it to a brilliant blue
And rub it on your back and your abdomen
Ancient Britain never hit on
Anything as good as woad to fit on
Neck or knees or where you sit on
Tailors you be blowed

Romans came across the channel
All wrapped up in tin and flannel
Half a pint of woad per man’ll
Clothe us more than these
Saxons you can waste your stitches
Building beds for bugs in breeches
We have woad to clothe us which is
Not a nest for fleas

Romans keep your armours
Saxons your pyjamas
Hairy coats were meant for goats
Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs and llamas
Tramp up Snowdon, with your woad on
Never mind if you get rained or blowed on
Never want a button sewed on
Go it, Ancient B’s