Hi to Pete Lobbenberg & Greg Stephens!

I first heard the Olga song from Pete at the Oxford Heritage Society sometime in the academic year 1960/61. My recollection of the verses is very slightly different. Like this:

The samovars are not steaming on the Gorschki
The borscht no longer bubbles soft and free
The smouzjik hangs his little head in sorrow
And love has gone from Olga and from me.

My friends all used to say I was a sadist
Because I pulled the wings from little flies
But that was till I met my darling Olga
And saw the masochism in her eyes (Hai! Hai!)

Olga was a true Siberian maiden,
She was luscious in a luscious Russian way.
I used to take her punting on the Volga
But now Olga's in the Volga for to stay.

How tenderly she whispered "Sergei, beat me!"
As her eyes took on a steaming Russian glow,
How passionately she murmured "Sergei, whip me!
But I, her love, would only answer "Niet!"

It was cruel being kind to little Olga:
I suffered quite a lot, I must confess,
Until the day she whispered Sergei, drown me!"
And I smiled a Russian smile and answered "Da!"

And now the samovars are not steaming on the Gorschki
The borscht no longer bubbles soft and free
The smouzjik hangs his little head in sorrow
And love has gone from Olga and from me.

(And there was a descending guitar riff over an Am chord at the end of every verse.)

Happy New Year everybody,

Wassail!