Lyrics: Well, the family all work at what they fancy, But father doesn't fancy work at all! Oh, we've got a little Railway out, not very far from town, The windows and the doors are painted green. When everyone gets down to work, things really do get done, For the folks at home, they number seventeen! Oh, the family all work at what they fancy, But father doesn't fancy work at all! Ah, me eldest Brother Sam, he makes loganberry jam, And Uncle Harry Sells it from his stall. Grandma's knitting sweaters for the Army, For the lads out in Crimea so she said, And while me sister carries coal, father comes home from the door, And wanders up the stairs and into bed! Oh, the family all work at what they fancy, But father doesn't fancy work at all! Oh, from Monday until Friday, When me Brother’s at the sheds, Me mother digs the garden until three; Then she put puts away the shovel, And lights up the kitchen fire, And goes to wake up father for his tea! Well, the family all work at what they fancy, But father doesn't fancy work at all! Even Grandpa you will see, keeps the sewers running free, And auntie Works behind a prison wall. But father never wonders from the fireside, He doesn't even answer when I call, So, to get a crust of bread, I just have to leave my bed, Oh, father doesn't fancy work at all!