JOAN, THE LEATHER QUEEN (Air: Jim the Carter Lad) by Ron Shuttleworth

My name is Joan, the Leather Queen; you all know what I do.
My clientele is so select, like something from Who's Who.
They come to me to punish them for every naughty prank.
And then they're all so grateful, I go laughing to the bank.

Chorus
Crack, crack goes the whip! Oh, how the lashes sting!
I tie up chaps with chains and straps, and beat them till they sing!
I make them crawl so humbly, as I stand there serene,
There's none can treat a man so cruel, as Joan, the Leather Queen!

My Ma was into discipline for years ere I was born.
She'd go to work at six o'clock and get to bed at dawn.
Sometimes she took me with her, when I was home from school.
And once she let me cane my old headmaster something cruel!

The Bishop tells his flock, "The Lord forgives, so do not fear".
Then he comes to me 'cos he knows that he gets no forgiveness here!
Lord Justice Hughs has liberal views on every this-and-that.
To me he'll come and bare his bum, and cry "Bring back the cat!"

(standard last verse)
I must concede the life I lead may sound a trifle queer,
But I never harm a living soul who's not a volunteer,
And underneath my peep-hole bra beats an honest heart and true,
So perhaps you might come round one night and see what I can do!

-------------------------

Optional verses (pick and mix)
There's a lovely tall dark gypsy lad I might even do for free.
He likes me to pet his lengro with a silver chain, you see.
He brings a new piece everytime, then leaves it as the score.
My stock of Long John's silver chain is a hundred yards or more.

In February of '92 came my blackest day , I'm sure,
For suddenly each thing I do is now against the law;
But there won'be any trouble, and I will be alright,
As long as our Chief Constable comes round each Tuesday night.

I always pay my Income Tax, my Rates and VAT,
I've a friend or two, in the revenue, who're very kind to me,
And twice a month they call around to collect whatever's due,
I pay my tax in whacks and smacks - don't you wish that you could too?

(folk festivals final verse)
I've a workshop here at Sidmouth* , just now it's all the crack!
Left at the festival office, and first door round the back:
There's lashings of surprises for you to come and see -
You may think that you can't dance or sing but you'll do both for me!

*change to suit location

I've identified it as written by Ron Shuttleworth rather than Joan because that's certainly the impression he gave me when he gave me a copy of the words. Beware of the timing on verse three, (for me at least) it doesn't seem to scan as easily as the others. Have fun Jude