Zen like and nimble
Fit as a thimble
That shadowy man of the lair
Bearded not greedy
By rights not all there
Shaggy not bad tempered
Robust as his fencing
Traced back his lines to the roots
Whole hearted, out-smarted
by no one above him
You just have to love him
Mr Thurlow comes from stock of the bear
You shout in his direction
He hears not a question
But answers with meaningful stare
Romance is in him
No Lance corporal can wince him
That canny old elf of great care
I once had met
Some folk who could vet
They saw him leap five great stairs
Look in river or stream
He's near anything green
You cannot believe his clean hair
David Thurlows his name
But he's outside the game
Still winning while he's not in there
Do you wait by the river
Or stumble the gorge
There's a man who'll deliver
His life in the forge
Cast of iron or steel
You know it ain't real
But believe this man of the lair
Ghosts risen in steam,
The glen or the stream
Mr Thurlow will willow,
and billow your windrow
Til canal boat and thimble
Do thread where the wind blows
Then you'll hear his voice on the air
Calling come back and greet us
Ye locals and far reachers
And step your nimble feet in Ebbors lair
