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Words written by Roy Threadgold in the 1970s. Tune and chorus from O My Darling Clementine.

In a village in North Essex, 
by the duck pond deep and blue
Lived a ringer and choral singer 
and his daughter, shh ... you know who.
O my darling, O my darling, O my darling Clementine
Thou art lost and gone forever, 
Dreadful sorry Clementine
Every Sunday morning early 
up the belfry they would climb;
Soon you’d hear those grotty tin-pots 
o’er the rooftops start to chime.
The master called for Stedman Doubles 
on a bright September morn.
Clementine pulled on her sally 
“Treble’s going, treble’s gone.”
Everything was going nicely,
when her rope began to writhe;
Caught her doing double cats-ears,
‘stead of dodging in four-five.
Clementine, she struggled bravely, 
made a wild grab at the rope;
As it went up to the backstroke, 
so it coiled around her throat.
Now to put it in a nutshell, 
and not to dwell upon the gore, 
They carried Clem. out of the belfry, 
and she never came no more.
Clementine still comes to haunt us 
– you might find her on the mat,
‘Cause for doing double cats-ears 
she is now a ghostly cat.
Every 15th of September, 
up the belfry goes that Puss,
And on the six bells in that belfry 
she rings ... Cambridge Maximuss.