there once was a farmer from old flotsam town who was tired of sowing his seeds on the ground he went for a wander and walked till the dawn till a wanton old she troll he stumbled upon and a hey ho he s ploughing a troll the gods only know how the key fits the hole around in the stinking great den they did roll and a hey ho he s ploughing a troll the farmer he knew it was love at first sight they ploughed through the morning and into the night with teeth rotten black and a rank leather hide this hideous creature his bestial bride and a hey ho he s ploughing a troll the gods only know how the key fits the hole a cavernous cave for his puny old pole and a hey ho he s ploughing a troll after time his excitement it started to droop he groaned at her farts and her cold onion soup the troll fixed his eye with a scowl made of stone and when the guards came around all they found were his bones and a hey ho he was ploughing a troll the gods only know how the key fit the hole no burial mound and no rest for his soul because hey ho he was ploughing a troll and a hey ho he was ploughing a troll the gods only know how the key fit the hole a dirty auld tale from the bed to the bowl because hey ho he was ploughing a troll ploughing a troll