(Tune: 99 Bottles of Pop)
I have a dear old daddy,
For whom I nightly pray,
He has a set of whiskers that are always in the way.
Chorus:
Oh, they're always in the way,
The cows eat them for hay,
They hide the dirt on Daddy's shirt,
They're always in the way.
Father had a strong back,
Now it's all caved in,
He stepped upon his whiskers
And walked upon his chin.
Chorus
Father has a daughter,
Her name is Ella Mae,
She climbs up father's whiskers
And braids them all the way.
Chorus
I have a dear ol' mother,
She likes the whiskers, too,
She uses them for dusting
And cleaning out the flue.
Chorus