Poor old uncle Albert’s

Not been feeling very well

He’s taken to his sick bed

With a tinny little bell

He rings it when he’s thirsty

And he wants a glass of juice

He rings it when he’s hungry

Or the bedclothes are too loose

He rings it all day long, and

He’s becoming such a pain

It’s ever so persistant

I’ve got ringing on the brain

Next time he rings his little bell

Or gives that sickly whine

I’ll take his bell and stick it

Where the sun won’t ever shine