Not strictly speaking songs, nor jokes neither, but a couple of poems which were quoted on a TV series named, "Poets and Pints", which was shown on BBC2 in the late seventies ?? in my comparative youth, anyway.

The first was quoted by the much-missed comic, Ryan Davies, dedicated to Jemima Nicholas, and the other women who took part in the defeat of the French invaders at Carregwasted Point in 1798:

The Women of Fishguard

The Emperor Napoleon, He sent his ships of war, With spreading sails, to conquer Wales, And land on Fishguard's shore. But Jemima ! She was waiting, With her broomstick in her hand, And all the other women there, To guard their native land. For the Russians and the Prussians, He didn't give a damn, But he took on more than he bargained for, When he tried it on with Mam.

Their cloaks were good red flannel, Their hats were black and tall, They looked just like brave soldiers, And were braver than them all. The Frenchmen took one look at them, And in panic they did flee, Cried, "Ooh-la-la !" and then, "Ta-ta", And jumped into the sea. And said to one another, As back to France they swam, "We'd have stayed at home, if we'd only known, That we'd have to take on Mam."

The Emperor Napoleon, He was a man of note. His hat was sideways on his head, His hand inside his coat. When he heard the news from Fishguard, His sorrow was complete. He said, "Josephine ! What can it mean ? My soldiers 'ave been beat !" "I will make this proclamation: Though a conqueror I am, You may conquer all creation, But you'll never conquer Mam !"

The second was quoted by actor Philip Madoc:

The Absolute End Introduction, from the Shell Guide to North Wales:

"The visitor to North Wales will appreciate that, in architecture as in other matters, English standards do not apply."

"There's not a lot of architecture. The hills are steep. It often rains." And so on, in a helpful lecture, The guide book to North Wales explains. Sums up the scene in words appalling, That bring a tear to every eye, Like sentence of dread judgement falling, "English standards do not apply". Can such things be ? Can one give credence, To what these words so shameless state, That here, within our other Eden's Spare boundaries, we tolerate, Such scenes as these we see before us ? All precedents in chaos lie, When man and nature boldly chorus, "English standards do not apply".

The scenery is often misty. Incessant rain blots out the view. The roads are narrow, dark and twisty, And so, some say, are the natives too. There is no doubt the end is nearer. From every crag there comes a cry, Ever louder, ever clearer, "English standards do not apply".

The horns of Elfland, dimly calling. Near and far, you'll here them say, "The Gatling's jammed and the pound is falling!" Now listen to the tune they play. Now, God be thanked for the bitter weather, The Sabbaths when the pubs are dry. The stars of the morning sing together, "English standards do not apply".

I've no information on the original authors of these two. Any info. welcome.