MARY LASS
(Dave Houlden)

Oh Mary Lass whats this you're doing,
Whats this that you're getting into
We're respectable Brass Band Musicians
So a Folk Club lad wont do for you
Your mother she plays the euphonium
Your Grandma before her did too
I started on drums but I'm third trombone now
So a Folk Club lad wont do for you

I daresay when you sing they'll be gladsome
And they'll drink Breakspears Ale from your shoe
But they're all three chord tricksters and mostly sing Flat
So a Folk Club lad wont do for you

You'll have no more fancy arrangements
Just harmonies worked out in your head
And it wont be Belle View you'll be playing
But a scruffy pub back room instead
With three songs a night if you're lucky
When your repetoire's exhausted you'll rue
That you shook your soft head when your old father said
A Folk Club lad wont do for you

And I hear that they're all into boozing
And gallons they'll drink in a day
Their bodies with real ale they're abusing
When to festivals they go away
With the beer guts perpetually sagging
And the flatulence gets very bad
And besides its been said they get brewers droop in bed
Do you still fancy your folk club lad


So if you want my consent to join Folk Club
I'm afraid you'll be waiting a while
If you ask me to pay your admission
I'll answer you with a grim smile
So practice your B Flat Brass Bass lass
Build your embouchure up while you can
Oh impetuous youth now I've told you the truth
Just stick with your local brass band.

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I'll be seeing Trayton tonight and will ask him about the availability of the Dave Houlden songbooks.