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FilkFile 6

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· 1 year ago

The sixth compilation of filksongs collected from the FILK Echo and provided for download via the auspices of Kay Shapero, moderator of same. Publication date, December 1990. All copyrights belong to the writers.

FILKfile appears at irregular intervals of a month or more, depending on how many songs appear on the echo.

Well, these aren't songs but look like they might be interesting to know about so I'm including them anyway:

Middle Kingdom Songbook , $8 (postage is included)
Milisande de Marmaunde, Middle Kingdom Information Officer
(whois) Jeanne Johnson
293 Warner Ave
Logan, OH 43138

The Elf Hill Times Song Book, $11.50 (postage is included)
Alfarhaugr Publishing Society
1908 Oak St.
Eugene, OR 97405
(503)344-0896

BEVERLY'S LAMENT

Words: Joel Polowin
Music: Ruth's Song from Gilbert & Sullivan's 'Pirates of Penzance'

When Wesley was a little lad he proved so bright and brainy,
That his father thought we should send him off to the starfleet
Aca_da_my.
I soon became a widowed mom, and I was on the hot-seat
To pack the bags for my darling boy, and send him off to Star-
fleet.
A life not bad for a clever lad is the life he'll lead in
our fleet
Though I'm a Mom, you'd not do wrong to send your child to
Starfleet.

I was a foolishly doting Mom, though my baby now has grown some
And I could not let him go off to school, where I knew that he'd
be lonesome.
When I was posted as CMO upon a mighty starship,
I pulled some strings (and some other things) and brought him
along on _our_
ship.
A sad mistake it was to make and have him under our feet
Aboard this nice new Enterprise, instead of off at Star-
fleet.

I soon found out beyond all doubt how grave had been my error.
For my genius Wesley on board the ship became one unholy terror!
Replacing this and inventing that, no disaster ever fazed him,
The command crew got so sick of him that they very nearly spaced
him.
So while they pile up the feathers and sit around to watch
the tar
heat,
A shuttlecraft has been dispatched to take my boy to Star-
fleet.

GLENWHORPLE (THE "G" SONG)

-Anonymous

There's a braw fine clan o' lads as ilka man should ken
They are de'ils at the fichtin, they hae clured a sicht o' men
They hae suppit muckle whiskey when to ceildh theu gang ben
The heilan men of braw Glenwhorple.

CHORUS: HEUGHT! Glenwhorple, Heilan' men,
Great strong whuskey-suckin' Heilan' men
They were hard-workin', hairy legged, Heilan' men,
Slainte mhor, Glenwhorple.

They were founded by McAdam who of all the men was first
He resided in Glen Eden and he pipit fit tae burst
Wi' a fig-leaf for a sporran and a perfect Heilan' thirst
Till he stole away the apple from Glenwhorple

When the waters o' the deluge drookit all the whole world o'er
The chieftain of the clan y'know his name was Sean McNoah
So a muckle boat he biggit and he sneckit up the door
And he sailed away from drooned Glenwhorple

McNoah sent a piper out to see if there was land
He came back wi' an empty whuskey bottle in each hand
But they couldna comprehend him, he was fu', ye understand
For he found a public house aboon the water

There was a jock named Joshua, a Sapper he by trade
He went awa' to Jericho aboon a muckle raid
And the walls they went a-tumblin', and with loot the lads were
paid
For the sappin' and the minin' in Glenwhorple.

When wise King Solomon was ruler o'er the glen
He had a hundred pipers and a thousand fichtin' men
And ten thousand wives and concubines, for as I'm sure ye ken
He kept a pow'rful household in Glenwhorple

O there was a birkie bangster was the ruler o'er the clan
Well his name it was t'Wallace and he was a fichtin' man
And he went about the border and the Southron turned and ran
From the dingin' of the claymore in Glenwhorple

Many o' the clansmen went and left their heilan' home
They loaded up on ships, about the world to roam
They were lookin' for a special place to call their very own
That's how Ealdormere became Glenwhorple

O what a sight this morning wi' the clan all on parade
Wi' the claymore and the pipers and the braw Glenwhorple plaid
And the pipey almost sober, and the chieftain no' afraid
O' seein' tartan spiders in Glenwhorple

REPEAT CHORUS TWICE TO END

NOTES:
"Slainte mhor", pronounced "slanja vah", means "good health".
Source: Songs from Front And Rear; A Collection Of Canadian Serviceman's Songs of World War Two, with the exception of Lord Cordigan D'Arnot's verse about how Ealdormere became Glenwhorple, and the verse about Sappers, which is the fault of Lord Hector of the Black Heights.

GODZILLA

Words: James Pilcher
Tune: Beethoven's Ninth

don't you know godzilla's back, he's gonna stomp on tokyo,
why did you move back to that burg you stupid jerk i toldya so.
monsters always stomp on three cities, london new york and tokyo,
i've heard of urban renewal, but this is ridiculous!

HIGH ON DRAGON'S HIDE

(or, Little Jackie Paper Goes Berserk)
Words: Bruce Holloway
Tune: none mentioned, but it does sort of scan to Puff the Magic Dragon if you push it.

I am the Dragon Rider! High on the Dragon's Hide!
Lord and Master of the Air, I cannot be Denied!
You ants can try to scurry, you ants can try to hide,
but my Mount will find you where you run
Your asses will be fried!

I am not without mercy, I'll let the pretty live.
Wasteful 'twould be to snuff them out,
'fore they give what they can give!
Mining the Fire-Ore from the Stone,
Shaking the Hungry Sieve,
They'll survive you, you little ants,
you'll not be my captives!

Flames you'll be before I'm through,
and your wretch'd Village!
Then I'll be gone into the sky to find some more pillage!
I called this Beast out from of his age-long hermitage,
and I go exactly where I please! A fiery pilgrimage!

I dive out of the Thunder-tops, lightning from the air!
Turning blood in doomed veins cold,
raised voices in Despair!
Don't offer me your gold and jewels,
how can you think I care
about your little ant-baubles? I'm Master of the Air!

I fly the hidden spaces only Dragon Eyes can see
Striking fear throughout the world, can this Heaven be?
But Dragon seems quite odd now, he looks askance at me
As if he often has in mind some kinder company

I am the Dragon Rider! And I ride on Dragon's Hide!
But my shouts are drowned out by Dragon's flaming cry
And then he speaks to me once more,
in voice come from inside
He wants to see if Masters of Air
without Dragon Wings can fly!

He climbs until the air is thin
and breath begins to fail
And my world of fire and scales
is ended by his tail
As I fall down through the clouds
I shout my final wail --
I WAS THE DRAGON RIDER! AND I RODE ON DRAGON'S HIDE!

(the last line should trail off, as if falling away)

HOST fragment

To the tune of the Mr. Ed theme:

A host is a host from coast to coast,
And no one will talk to a host that's close,
Unless the host that isn't close
Is busy, hung, or dead...

From Spencer F. Katt's column, RUMOR CENTRAL, in PC WEEK maga-
zine, dated 15 October 1990. The witty kitty credits the above
bit of silliness to an Ohio State contributor (name withheld, no
doubt to protect the guilty party).

LORD OF THE DANCE, Revision 3:1

Words:Kay Shapero and Lee Gold
Tune:"Lord of the Dance"

I danced in the morning when all time was begun.
I scattered out the galaxies and lit the moon and sun.
I rolled away the waters, and the land had its birth.
And as Lord of the Dance I appeared on the Earth.

CHORUS

I danced o'er the ocean, and I called out, "Bring Forth"
And life sprang up from the south up to the north,
It joined in the dance, as it swam, flew and ran,
And in Eden there took shape a woman and man.

CHORUS

But the woman and man chose to break from the dance,
To stumble on the path of error and mischance.
In sorrow I exiled them outside my garden wall
But never outside my love and my call.

CHORUS

To Egypt I came in time, with Joseph and his kin
And when time came around, I led them forth again.
As a pillar of cloud, as a pillar of fire
I danced on before them, and I did never tire.

CHORUS

(slower and slower with the first verse; no chorus between
rses;
speed up with the second verse.)

To win mankind free, a new dance I stepped,
To teach and then to die a shameful death.
The Earth quaked and darkened; all life seemed in a trance.
Could it be that this was the end of the dance?

But the dance was not done, for I did not stay dead
For sinless, I could harrow Hell instead.
All penalty paid for the souls held in thrall,
Come be free, dance with me, for my dance is for ALL!

CHORUS

Words (c) Kay Shapero and Lee Gold, November 1990

MACINTYRE (aka THE OLD DUN COW)

-Traditional (?)

Some friends of mine in a public bar were playin' dominoes one
night
When into the bar a fireman came, his face a chalky white.
"What's up?" says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost? Have you seen me
Aunt Mariah?
"Well, your Aunt Mariah be buggered," says he, "th' bleedin'
pub's on fire!"

"Well, good!" says Brown, "What a bit of luck! Everybody follow
me!"
"It's down to the basement, if the fire's not there, we'll have a
grand old spree!"
Well, we all went down after good old Brown, the booze you would
not miss
And we'd not been down there ten minutes or more before we looked
quite like this:

CHORUS: And there was Brown all upside down
Lappin' all the whiskey off the floor
"Booze! Booze!" the firemen cried
As they came knockin' at the door (knock knock)
Now don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
Somebody shouted "MACINTYRE!" (shout)
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the old Dun Cow caught fire!

Smith walked up to the port-wine tub, gave it just a few hard
knocks
Started takin' off his pantaloons, likewise his shoes and socks.
"Well no!" says Brown, "That ain't allowed! Can't do that in
here!"
"Don't go washin' your trousers in the port-wine tub when we've
got some Guiness beer!"

Then there came a fiery crash! Half the bloody roof came in!
We were drowned in the fireman's hose till we were almost sober.
So we got some tacks and some old wet socks, and we tacked our-
selves inside
And we sat there gettin' bleary-eyed drunk while the old Dun Cown
got fried!

More Old Time Religion

That Bob Larson shrieks and hollers
Fighting demons in his callers
Save his program: SEND YOUR DOLLARS!
It's good enough for me.

--Dr Pepper

With the aid of my athame
I can throw a "double-whammy"
(And can slice and dice salami!)
So it's good enough for me.

Well I'm tired of Ronald Reagan,
He's too square to be a pagan,
Let's all vote for Carl Sagan!
He's good enough for me.

Oh we'll all be Fundamental
And be Holy Testamental
And never Trancendental
And that's good enough for me!

--from Joe Bethancourt

Old McDonald Bought a Car

Words by Joey McKangaroo
Tune: the usual

Old McDonald bought a car,
I-O-I-O-U
and in this car he drove his wife,
I-O-I-O-U
A blah blah here, and a blah blah there, a blah blah everywhere
everyhere a blah blah

Old McDonald bought a car,
I-O-I-O-U
and in this car he used the phone,
I-O-I-O-U
A ring ring "Hi," and a ring ring "Bye," a Ring "Hi" everywhere,
everywhere a ring "Bye"

Old McDonald Bought a Car,
I-O-I-O-U
And in this car he broke the law,
I-O-I-O-U
A Wheeee-Wheeee HONK! and a Wheeee Wheeee BEEEP!!
A Wheeee-HONK everywhere, everywhere a Wheeee-BEEEP!!

Old McDonald bought a car,I-O-I-O-U
But one morning it wouldn't start,
I-O-I-O-U
A click-click Whirr, and a click-click whirr,
A click whirr everywhere, everywhere a whirr-click.

Old McDonald traded his car,
I-O-I-O-U
He traded it for a Model-T
I-O-I-O-U
A trade-in here, and a trade in there,
A trade-in everywhere, Everywhere a trade-in.

I - O - I - O - U!

<<<<SHERLOCK HOMES>>>>

by Joey Mckangaroo

Home is home
if only I'm home,
But home's not home,
if nobody's home.

My Home is home,
when home is home,
And that's why I'm called
Sherlock Holmes.

You are home
when you are home,
So when you're gone,
you're not at home.

If you're not home,
and I am home,
Then come to me,
and to my home.

For the home I know,
is the only home,
but not all the homes
are all for Holmes.

When I am home,
then I am home.
But I'm obviously out,
because I'm not home.

When you are home,
then I am home.
When you are lost,
then I'm not home.

So when you're home,
Then I'm perfectly at home, But if you're lost,
call Sherlock Holmes.

Subspace Traveller

By Bruce Holloway

I have set out on a journey that will last for many years
and is fraught with myriad dangers that all star-captains fear
but I pedal on stalwartly as my destination nears
on my two-wheeled subspace traveller, with its twenty-one warp
gears.

I scan the boards for danger as the auto-pilot steers
there's that slavering star-furred space hound, o'er the star-
board bow he rears
calmly I grab the steering yoke, my starship quickly veers
saved by my subspace traveller, with its twenty-one warp gears.

The singularity that lies in wait has ended three careers
its gravity pulls at me now, disintegration nears
I downshift into inertial drive and a chance wormhole appears
ahead of my subspace traveller, with its twenty-one warp gears.

I flee down the knotted starpaths, dashing swiftly as a deer
pursued by the angry clattering of an X-Ray haloed sphere
but the solar winds are at my back, and the paths ahead are clear
twisting space in my subspace traveller, coasting on the eight-
eenth gear.

Shards of anti-matter assail me now, scattered all 'round here
if even one touches the drive, the ship will disappear
and I'll drift in space forever, sipping warm, recycled beer
wishing for my subspace traveller and its twenty-one warp gears.

My long voyage has ended now, and I'm buoyed by the cheers
of those who have awaited me as I travelled the light-years
but in my mind I'm surrounded still by the music of the spheres
on my two-wheeled subspace traveller, with its twenty-one warp
gears.

THE BARD'S SONG

-Joe Bethancourt
(Tune: "Dublin City")

As I walked out one quiet evening
At the hour of twelve at night
Who should I meet but a fair young maiden
Combin' her hair by candle light;
Lassie, I have come a-courtin'
Your kind favours for to win
And if you'd heed my petition
I would be your Paladin...

(CHORUS) Gather roses in the Springtime
Gather roses while ye may,
Time is passing; roses wither;
Winter comes; we're here -today-.

Have you seen the dew a-formin'
On the grass at early morn?
Have you seen the forest quiet,
Or a stag that's barely born?
Have you seen the dawn a-breakin'
O'er the Western Ocean's tide?
Have you felt my heart a-beatin'
When it's held close to your side?

I can give no gold or silver,
I can give no fields of land,
I can give no servants brisk
To wait on you both foot and hand;
I can give you wide roads callin'
Wind and Rain, and Moon and Sun,
Songs to sing, and love and laughter,
Dresses made of plain home-spun.

Come dance with me upon the greensward
in the moonlight, in the Spring.
Dance with me within the forest
Dance with me within the ring!
Earth below us, stars above us,
Fire and water by our side,
Dance with me within the moonlight,
Dance with me, and be my Bride!

The Circus of Dr. Lao

Words by Charlie Kellner
Music - theme from the movie "The Circus of Dr. Lao"

O my friend, all the world's a circus
And you know it is if you just look at it right
The sun and moon set the stage
The stars put on a show
When you dance the dance of life
Then you're part
You're a part
You're part of the Circus of Dr. Lao

THE MONGOLS ARE A FUNNY RACE

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Madamoiselle From Armetieres")

The Mongols are a funny race:
So are you!
They hold the Kingdom in distaste,
It is true!
Their dispositions are rather mean;
Their verses tend to be unclean!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

They make their chiefest pleasure still
So they do,
To do the KaKhan's evil will
All over you!
And when they're given no indication
They use their own imagination!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

When the Mongols they did see
First time thru,
The Middle Kingdom climbed a tree!
It is true!
Two sword-brothers and KaKhan Yang,
They thought it was a biker gang!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Now Yang's no longer with the Horde
Sad, but true!
But Middle Kingdom's never bored
It is true!
With Tuchux, Mongols and Moritu
The Kingdoms don't know what to do!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Horde has met in Kurultai
They spoke of you!
They've raised a mighty battle cry!
HO! WATSU!
They're marching out with cool aplomb
It's rumored that they have THE BOMB!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Mongols are a funny race,
It is true!
They always will be in your face!
It is true!
Try to run them out of town;
They'll burn yer goddam castle down!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Their ladies tend to carry knives!
So they do!
Daughters, girlfriends, even wives!
So they do!
Leave 'em alone, you silly fool,
Or they will take your family jewels!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Mongols in your Barony
Enjoy the view!
There's more of them than you can see!
It is true!
They're not looking to burn your town,
All they want is "lebensraum!"
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Spider Clan is in your town
It is true!
There's ninjas lurking all around!
Listening to you!
Every time you make a plan
The Dark Horde has it "in the can!"
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Warlord doesn't say too much;
(thought you knew!)
Just sits and drinks a lot of his
Tullimore Dew!
They say that he's unscrupulous,
Vicious, mean and venomous!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2)

The Noyen is an old, old man
It is true!
He drinks his whiskey from a can
It is true!
Experience and treachery
Will win o'er youth and bravery!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Ioseph is a Cavalier
It is true!
He never touches wine or beer
It is true!
TarKhan of the White Oak boys,
Gunpowder weapons are their toys!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (1)

Their ninjas work so very well
So they do!
They don't wear no damn turtle shells
It is true!
They can turn up anywhere,
They know the brand of your underwear!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2)

Red Cherie's a lovely girl,
It is true!
A cute and cuddly precious pearl,
It is true!
*You know what they say about red-heads?
You piss her off, you wind up dead!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Unca Wu's a funny guy
It is true!
He makes the ladies blink and sigh
It's TWUE! It's TWUE!
He talks just like Diogenes
And then goes swinging thru the trees!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Gur-Khan is a crazy fool
Thought you knew!
He never went to Sunday School
It is true!
When you meet him on the field
You takes your choice: you die or yield!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Mongols are an awful group
It is true!
They're dropping poison in the soup!
Just for you!
They burn, then rape by firelight
Their table manners are a fright!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2)

Everybody likes Ardjukk,
So do you!
You won't give him a second look,
It is true!
You would be Afraid-of-His-Cats
If you had kitties just like THAT!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Tamara doesn't say a lot
To me or you!
She is great in a Mongol Plot!
So she do!
Don't sneak up on her because
She sure don't live in the Land of Oz
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

There's Mongols underneath your bed!
It is true!
Writing down the things you said!
It is true!
We heard you gasp & moan & howl!
(We know all about the owl!)
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Samak is down with PMS
It is true!
The Kingdom is in great distress!
Too, too true!
He's looking for to take your life
That's why he's called Samak the Knife!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (1)

Given a choice, the Horde will choose
This is true!
Irish songs and Irish booze!
So would you!
A Celtic Mongol is a sight
To make you lose your sleep at night!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

There's Mongols marching day and night
Right at you!
They're spoiling for a good old fight!

It is true!
They're marching out with flags unfurled
Today your Kingdom, TOMORROW THE WORLD!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Duncan is a canny Scot
It is true!
No one knows what he has got
Even you!
He uses knives with speed and skill't
His "heavy" weapon's beneath his kilt!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

Aleta is a fair young maid
It is true!
Of her you ought to be afraid
I tell you true!
Little and pretty and cute and clean
And evil and vicious and bad and mean!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

There's Mongols on the Royal Court!
It is true!
They've given us a full report!
About you!
The Crown's uneasy on your head
We've even wired the Royal Bed!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Spider Clan, somewhere out there,
Is out there too!
Riding thru the desert air,
So they do!
Their weapons glitter in the sun:
Swords and knives...and Tommy guns!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Mongols have a lot of songs
Too, too true!
They will sing them all night long!

About you!
If they don't run out of breath
They will sing you half to death!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!

The Mongols are a funny race
It is true!
They think the Kingdom's a disgrace
It is true!
If you think they're speaking treason,
Not -yet-, m'boy, it's out of season!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (3)

The Mongols think the Horde is great
So they do!
They've learned how to communicate
It is true!
They're all linguists, don't you see
They speak "Treason"....fluently!
Tomorrow belongs to me, NOT YOU!

1) Ardjukk Afraid-Of-His-Cats 2) Samak the Knife 3) Anonymous

THE MOOSE SONG

(version known to Walt Leipold)
(to a tune something like "Sweet Betsy from Pike")

When I'm in the mood for a very good lay,
I go to the closet and get me some hay,
I go to the woods and I spread it around,
For the moose come out when there's hay on the ground

(chorus)
And it's moose! Moose! I want a moose!
I have never had anything quite like a moose!
I've had many women, my life has been loose,
But I've never had anything quite like a moose

When I was a young man I did it with girls,
I fondled their breasties and played with their curls,
But my true love ran off with a salesman named Bruce...
Now, I've never been treated like that by a moose.

(chorus)

Well, I've done it with all sorts of beasties with hair,
I'd do it with snakes if their fangs weren't there,
I've done it with llamas and sheepdogs and goose,
But I've never had anything quite like a moose.

(chorus)

Oh, gorillas are fun on a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers can put up a fight,
But it's not quite the same when I ram their caboose,
As the feeling I get when I hump on a moose.

(chorus)

Well, now that I'm old and advanced in my years,
When I look at my past I'll shed me no tears,
As I sit in my rocker with a glass of Mateus,
Playing hide the salami with Millie the Moose!

(chorus)

THE MOOSE SONG

(as known to Joe Bethancourt)
-Thomas Payton, et. al.
(tune: "Betsy From Pike")

When I was a young girl (man) I used to like boys (girls),
I fondled their tights (bodies) and played with their toys
(curls),
But me boy (girl) friend ran off with a salesman named Bruce,
You'd never get treatment like that from a Moose!

CHORUS: So it's Moose, Moose, I like a Moose,
I've never had anything quite like a Moose,
I've had many lovers, my life has been loose,
But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!

Now when I'm in need of a very good lay,
I go to me stables and gets me some hay,
I opens me window and spreads it around,
'Cause Moose always comes when there's hay on the ground!

Now I've made it with all kinds of beasties with hair,
I'd make it with snakes if their fangs were not there,
I've made it with walrus, two ducks and a goose,
But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!

Now gorillas are fine for a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers, they puts up a fight,
But it just ain't the same when you slams your caboose
As the feeling you gets when you humps with a Moose!

I've tried many beasties on land or on sea
I've even tried hump-backs that humped back on me!
Sharks are quite good, tho they're hard to pull loose
But on dry land there is nothing quite like a moose!

Woodchucks are all right except that they bite
And foxes and rabbits won't last thru the night!
Cows would be fun, but they're hard to seduce
But you never need worry should you find a moose!

Step in my study, and trophies you'll find
A black striped tiger and scruffy maned lion
You'll know the elephant by his ivory tooth
And the one that's a-winking, you know is the moose!

The lion succumbed to a thirty-ought-six
Machine guns and tigers I've proved do not mix
The elephant fell by a bomb with a fuse
But I won't tell a soul how I did in the moose!

I've found many women attracted to me
A few of them have had me over for tea
Some say that they love me when they're feeling loose
But I'd trade the world's women for one lovely moose!

The good Lord made Adam, and then He made Eve
Said He: "If you sin now, I'll ask you to leave!"
They left not because of Eve's forbidden fruit
But 'cause Adam decided the moose there were cute!

The English are said to like boars who've had corn
The Celtics just dream of the young Unicorn
The Germans, it's said, just need leather and rope
But give me a moose and I'll no longer mope!

Now I've broken the laws in this god-awful state
They've put me in prison and locked up the gate
They say that tomorrow I'll swing from a noose
But my last night I'll spend with a good sexy moose!

Next morning the Governor's word reached my ears
"We've commuted your sentence to ninety-nine years!"
"You won't get parole; not a five minute's truce,
And your friend goes to Sing-Sing, he's so big-a-moose!"

(slowly)
Now that I'm old and advanced in me years,
I'll look back on me life, and I'll shed me no tears,
As I sit in me chair with me glass of Mateuse,
And play hide the salami with Marvin (Millie) the Moose!

THE THONG OF THOR

-Anonymous
(Tune: unsure, but "Girl I left Behind Me" seems to work OK)

In the days of yore, the great god Thor would ramp around creation.
He'd drink a pint and slay a giant and save the Nordic nation,
Or kill a Worm to watch it squirm and vainly try to fang him,
Or lock up Loki in the pokey and on the noggin bang him.

Once he did bawl through Thrudvang Hall that on a trip he'd wander
In a disguise from prying eyes, in Midgard way out yonder,
So all his slaves and carles and knaves packed up his goods and gear, O,
And off he strode, on Bifrost road, a perfect Aryan hero.

In Midgard land he joined a band of hardy Viking ruffians,
And off they sailed and rowed and bailed among the auks and puffians.
Whene'er they'd reach a foreign beach they stopped to raid and plunder;
Each Nordic brute got so much loot their longship near went under.

But they rolled in coins of gold, they had one joy forsaken,
For on each raid Thor's party made, no women could be taken.
Each drab and queen fled from the scene when Viking sails were sighted,
And Thor felt the need for certain deeds that had gone unrequited.

Thor's brows were black as they went back to Oslo's rocky haven;
Unto his crew he said, "Beshrew me for a Frankish craven
"If I don't wrench some tavern wench, or else may Frigga damn her."
Replied one voice, "You have first choice; you've got the biggest hammer."

Into an inn that crew of sin disembarked upon their landing,
Each tavern maid was sore afraid of pirates of such standing.
But golden coins soon warmed up their loins and the ale soon ran free;
Thor's motley crew poured down the brew and made an all-night spree.

Thor's glances strayed unto a maid with hair as gold as grain,
A lisp so shy, a downcast eye, and not a trace of brain;
He swept her charms into his arms and to an upstairs bower,
And did not cease nor give her ease for six days and an hour!

When he rose up and drained a cup, she looked like one near death:
Her limbs were weak, she could not speak, and only gasped for breath.
"You ought to know, before I go, I'm Thor," he bade adieu.
"You're Thor!" said she. "Conthider me! I'm thorer, thir, than you!"