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She says I’m just a lump of wood
No feelings and no sense.
Good job I’m easy going
And didn’t take offence.
She says I’m just a lump of wood
Forgets that trees are life.
You tell her I am just the same,
Despite the craftsman’s knife.
She says I’m just a lump of wood
For messing round in parks
And cricket balls don’t hurt me,
Despite the big red marks.
She says I’m just a lump of wood
With linseed oil for skin
And plastic bags and garages
Are fine to keep me in.
She says I’m just a
lump of wood,
But I breathe and yes, I feel.
And oil is more than just for looks
For me it’s like a meal.
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She says I’m just a lump of wood
And all bats are the same
You tell her they’re my cousins
And each one has a name.
She says we’re all just lumps of wood
I hope that you can see
The truth is very different
So please look after me.
We’re more than just a lump of wood
We’re summer’s special sound
Our willow striking cricket ball
On good days: out the ground.
We’re more than just a lump of wood,
We’re special, you tell her that.
And maybe she’ll appreciate
Your friend, the cricket bat.
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