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| On the farm, every Friday On the farm, it's rabbit pie day. So, every Friday that ever comes along, I get up early and sing this little song Run rabbit – run rabbit – Run! Run! Run! Run rabbit – run rabbit – Run! Run! Run! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Goes the farmer's gun. Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run. Run rabbit – run rabbit – Run! Run! Run! Don't give the farmer his fun! Fun! Fun! He'll get by without his rabbit pie So run rabbit – run rabbit – Run! Run! Run! Gapsted Vineyard, outside Myrtleford, Victoria. Take a bow, Flanagan & Allen. |
11 comments:
waiting manicured for new growth, next harvest
Oh no not rabbit pie..that's just horrible..ruuuuuuuun!How beautiful the rows of vines look in their winter starkness!
I need to buy me some red wine.
They look sad in winter. The ones I saw recently in the Napa Valley, California were full of their new spring finery. Now you've got me singing that song in my head for the rest of the night.
In wine there is truth, but mostly just buried...
Servus and have a nice day
CL
oh, my
says i,
not
rabbit
pie
Oh, break my heart, Julie. We have wild rabbits around here, and we let them be. Even Lindy ignores them when she's out for a walk. Mind you, they don't come into our back yard any more, as they did before we got a dog.
K
Kay, this is a take-off of a Tourism Victoria advert for the Yarra Valley wine region. No bunnies were harmed in the making of this post!
I have been preparing my Mudgee post this evening and have vineyards taken in the summer time when in leaf. I like them better that way.
How about a verse to chase crows away Julie!
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