THE GREAT BELL (Denis King, John Junkin) In an old village called Churdling-Cum-Strando Whack, Whack, go kick a neighbour They did have a church with a steeple so grand-o Fol diddle diddle di doh I hate my old mum For hundreds of years now the bell in that steeple Whack, Whack, spreading the muck round. Had never been heard by the village's people Fol diddle diddle di doh may I leave the room CHORUS Rum tiddle tiddle tum tiddle tiddle scum on the water Lint in your navel and sand in your tea In old days the squire had a beautiful daughter Whack, Whack, Nina and Fredrick She loved the poor verger and one night dad caught her Fol diddle diddle di doh I just hurt my foot I love him dear dad she said, tears she was shedding Whack, Whack, half-day on Thursday Quite likely said father and battered her head in Fol diddle diddle di doh superfluous hair Rum tiddle tiddle tum tiddle tiddle scum on the water Lint in your navel and sand in your tea (minor key?)And then as she lay there all dead-like and messy Whack, Whack, go burst your ulcer The bell stopped its ringing to mourn for poor Bessie Fol diddle diddle di doh I think I feel sick Then (upbeat again) just yesterday a young couple went walking Whack, Whack, go stand on your head now Beneath that same bell of which I have been talking Fol diddle diddle di doh and one for his nob Rum tiddle tiddle tum tiddle tiddle scum on the water Lint in your navel and sand in your tea They stopped and he cuddled her waist young and supple Whack, Whack, Lord Baden-Powell And down fell the bell right onto the young couple Fol diddle diddle di doh Here's mud in your eye The moral I give more in sorrow than anger Whack, Whack, egg, beans and sausage Make love 'neath a bell and you might drop a clanger Fol diddle diddle di doh and that's your damn lot Rum tiddle tiddle tum tiddle tiddle scum on the water Lint in your navel and sand in your tea Lint in your navel and sand in your tea (spoken) Can you take your hand off me knee vicar? I'm trying to play the piano. Performed by Marty Feldman on "The Crazy World of Marty Feldman" (Decca SPA 134) previously released as "I Feel A Song Going Off"
An ancient Gaelic tradition relatively recently contributed to the English language: song syllables with no meaning at all. (The Irish were the main promoters of this.) In English today they're called "vocables."
You'll find them in Gaelic songs older than the English language -- and so formally established one can instantly identify the song by its vocables.