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Over The Hill.

 Mary Mary, bright and airy
You're fairly extraordinary
Your cool blue eyes and flaming tresses
Always soothe my stresses
But I confess on this auspicious day
I'm lost for what to say
The term "old bag" springs to mind
But that might seem unkind, but

Over the hill
Sounds like a lovely place to be
Twilight's alright with me
Out to pasture's nicer still
Over the hill
No more to climb, you're on a roll
Unwind your mind and stroll
In a field of thyme and sage
Smile lines are all the rage
All the world's a passing stage
We're merely here to play
Over the hill, not far away

Recessive genes and milkmen were debated
We never looked related
Like chalk and cheese and odds and sods
But we talk like peas in pods
Yes, our phone bills show our waxing love
Our voices rise above
Whatever your dumb white cells do
We'll all be here for you...

Oh, Mary! We really love you so
Oh, Mary! We're here to let you know
Oh, Mary! We've come from near and far
To let you know how grouse you are
Oh, Mary! And no-one's here to gloat
Oh, Mary! We're all in the same boat
Oh Mary! All paddling afar
To let you know how grouse you are...

To arrange this party was partly strange
Our methods had to change
‘Cos Mary's who we tend to ring when planning such a thing
And for choosing presents, she's got the gift
To give your heart a lift
I hope to do the same in song
So why not sing along?...
It's time to get ecstatic
...For my sister, systematic
...Dramatically emphatic...
And in two years I'll have this in mind too, 'cos I'm not that far behind you...

© Mal Webb 2004

On the 2004 Great Victorian Bike Ride, I improvised a version of this chorus to spur on the cyclists as they battled their way up Laver's Hill. I then turned it into a song for the 40th birthday of my sister, Mary, who, by the way, kindly proof-read all the text for this CD and her kids, Alice and Max sing in the chorus and re-enact the time my right index finger needed 6 stitches after an altercation with a dodgy pocket knife and an ugg boot.