I was taking compa** bearings for the Ordnance Survey On an army training camp on Salisbury plain I had packed up my theodolite, was calling it a day When I heard a voice that sang a sad refrain: 'Oh, my darling Armadillo Let me tell you of my love Listen to my Armadillo roundelay; Be my fellow on my pillow Underneath this weeping willow Be my darling Armadillo all the day.' I was somewhat disconcerted by this curious affair For a single Armadillo, you will own On Salisbury plain, in summer, is comparatively rare And a pair of them is practically unknown Drawn by that mellow solo There I followed on my bike To discover what these Armadillo Lovers would be like: 'Oh, my darling Armadillo How delightful it would be If for us those silver wedding bells would chime Let the orange blossoms billow You need only say 'I will'-oh Be my darling Armadillo all the time.' Then I saw them in a hollow, by a yellow muddy bank An Armadillo singing [?] to an armour-plated tank Should I tell him, gaunt and rusting, with the willow tree above This - abandoned on manoeuvres - is the object of your love? I left him to his singing Cycled home without a pause Never tell a man the truth About the one that he adores On the breeze that follows sunset I could hear that sad refrain Singing willow, willow, willow down the way; And I seemed to hear it still, Oh Vive L'amore, vive l'Armadillo 'Be my darling Armadillo all the day Be my darling Armadillo all the day.'