Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread

Subject: SB: In Hiding by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:34 AM

In Hiding by Amergin

He sits on the couch, staring out the window
Longing to breathe in the fresh air
He hears the birds sing, through the glass
Taunting and twirling in the air
The breezes blow through the trees
Chasing the sun rays across the lawn
The cats chase each other among the leaves
Wondering where the other has gone
He watches the clouds travel the blue sky
And walks across the carpeted floor
He touches the doorknob and turns it
But finds he cannot open the door

Chorus:
He hides from the world, hides from the truth
Escaping into his books, into the internet
Afraid to rediscover the world outside
Afraid of finding the hidden threat.

He watches the children play their games
At the house just across the street
Running through the two sprinklers
Soaking themselves to beat the heat
He hears the lawnmowers whirring 
The blades chomping cutting down the grass
Two kids toss around a football
Flying up and down as it gets passed
Birds dance upon the power lines
Jumping up to begin their glide
He hops up and runs to open the door
But finds he cannot go outside.

Chorus

He watches as the bees pollinate the flowers
Prancing among the petals, singing
The ancient folksongs of her people
Accompanied by the sirens ringing
The roses vibrate in the draught
Petals reaching up with each gust
The squirrels play among the branches
Acting upon each thought of natures lust
The bluejays croon on the highest limbs
Composing its songs, filled with pride
He opens the door and steps onto the porch
Something tells him he still must hide.

Final Chorus:
He hides from the world, hides from the truth
He cannot cope with the feelings inside
In concealment he watches the seasons pass
And with his thoughts he does abide.

Subject: SB: I'm Respectable Now by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:33 AM

I'm Respectable Now by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  As it was me that started the 'woman/man' thing I was very interested in the views about singing and writing from the others point of view. I have written a song (again one not to be taken too seriously) from a woman's point of view, only to have woman friend dismiss it with, "a man would write a song like that".  The implication was that it was a typical man's view, which of course it was, how could I do otherwise?  I am a man and that was the whole point.  Her reaction was interesting and I will post the words here, for your reaction and in an attempt to redress the balance with the one about the guy standing at the altar.  (Why did she still want to marry him anyway?).

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

You walk with one foot in the gutter
With your twitch, your limp, your lisp and your stutter
With your bad breath and your belly swelled with beer
I once thought you were the 'bees knees'
Guess I was just easily pleased
Thought all of your 'bullshit' was sincere
Please forgive me if I sound bitter
But when you ran off with the baby-sitter
You left me and took all the things we had
It was a blessing in disguise
I saw the light and I realised
The future, without you didn't look too bad

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

My beau's have now got suits on
They don't make love with their boots on
They don't just want my body they want me
They got this thing that they call foreplay
They don't just grab me in the hallway
And bend me down so I don't block the T.V.
You thought you were Eroll Flynn
But you made love like Rin-Tin-Tin
But a German Sheherd was better looking than you
And when it comes to your 'pride and joy'
You were hung like a 'Dinky Toy'
And you sure played a lot with it too

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

Subject: SB: I'm As Irish As A Texas Girl Can Be! by Áine
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:32 AM

I'm As Irish As A Texas Girl Can Be! by Áine
(Tune: Roll Me Over In The Clover)


It was back in '96
I took a little trip
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
I took lots o' books
That got me funny looks
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

We didn't stop for fuel
And oh the trip was cruel
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
As we flew into the mist
By Atlanta I was pissed
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus:
I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

When London we had reached
I'd nearly lost my speech
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
As much as the ticket cost
Don't you know that I got lost
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Then I walked up to the guard
And oh his look was hard
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
He said, "What are you about?"
I knew then he'd found me out
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus

He looked at my red hair
Pointed me right up the stairs
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
Well, he went through all my gear
And his face went rather queer
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Saw my Gaelic books, did he
"What's this junk?," said he to me
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
"'Siad mo leabhair," a dúirt mé 'sin
"And take 'em outa that there bin!"
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus

In his records went my name
And ain't that just a shame!
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
He let me go, I passed the test
"Póg mo thóin," a dúirt mé leis
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Well, most Englishmen are sweet
And their accents can't be beat
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
And though London may be quaint
Going back I never ain't
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Áine Cooke (2000)

Subject: SB: I'll Tell You 'Bout Life In The Country
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:31 AM

I'll Tell You 'Bout Life In The Country by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath of Harlow's Comments:  I'm not sure if it's rabbits or gentry he'd like to hunt. Both I imagine. (Just because you write a song you don't have the last word on what it means.) As for tunes, it works OK with "Dick Darby" or "Botany Bay".

I'll tell you 'bout life in the country
It's not what it once used to be
Now the gentry are leading the marches,
And they say that they care about me.

Well, I can't get a house, that's a pity,
And the reason is not hard to find,
They've been sold to rich folk from the city,
By the squire, who is ever so kind.

And the buses, it's just the same story,
They've been cut to the bone, what a shame,
But for everything cut by the Tories,
Seems it's Tony who we have to blame.

So the squire led a big march in London,
And we all had to go on the coach.
Well, if he wants the right to hunt foxes
Then I want the freedom to poach.

Yes, I'll tell you 'bout life in the country
And you'll hear the truth, just for once.
If you gave me the right to go hunting
It wouldn't be foxes I hunts.

Subject: SB: I Got Your Love by khandu
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:30 AM

I Got Your Love by khandu

Drivin' my truck down a rocky road
Been on this trail since the rooster crowed
But I got your letter, It was written in code
And I got, I got your Love

Peace in the valley, a lion is in the streets
Smoke on the mountain, and the King's on His seat
But here am I, in the sun, just driving through the heat,
But I got, I got your Love

Too much religion can drive a man mad
Too much ambition can turn him bad
Too much of a good thing . . . can't be had,
And I got, I got your Love

Some look for treasures, some for fame
Some look for somebody else they can blame.
The only way to win is to quit the game,
I got , I got your Love

I ain't looking around for any wonders or signs
Don't want nothing that ain't rightfully mine
But I'll take my pleasures in the fruit of your Vine
The Words of your lips and the taste of your wine

Grace is a lady, I owe her my life
She taught me the pleasures and the treasures of a wife
Mercy's words, sometimes they cut me like a knife,
But I got, I got your Love

I been talking to Roy, Roy knows some stuff
He said twice may be too many, but once is never enough.
He say "Ain't life grand, but sometimes, she can be rough",
But I got, I got your Love

What's that I see coming down from the sky?
Reminds me of that twinkle that I have seen in your eye.
Did I hear someone shout or was that an eagle cry?
I got, I got your Love

Took my Chevy to the levee, and pushed it off into the lake,
Hummed a little bit of "American Pie" for Old times sake
Sometimes old habits are easy to break!
I got, I got your Love

Copyright ©2000 khandu

Subject: SB: I'd Rather Smell by SINSULL
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:29 AM

This song was posted in response to a song challenge made by McGrath of Harlow on this thread.  Below is the newstory that prompted McGrath's challenge:

Mounties Punish Fragrant Offences (June 4, 2000) --  The Canadian province of Nova Scotia has outlawed perfume in public places after claims that it contains toxic chemicals .  The ban, observed in government buildings, schools and a growing number of private workplaces includes all fragrances, including those in hairspray and gel, mouthwash and deodorants. Some employees have been sent home to shower for being too sweetly scented.   The ban signals a victory for anti-perfume activists who lobbied outside the City Hall of the province's capital, Halifax, wearing gas masks. Their complaint is that fragrance is composed of undisclosed chemicals, some of which cause MCS - multiple chemi cal sensitivity. Critics say MCS is a spurious condition.  In Halifax not everyone has come to terms with the anti-perfume rule. An 84-year-old woman was escorted from a council meeting at City Hall for having a dab of perfume behind her ears.  Sheet Harbour High School was the scene of another scent showdown when a 17-year-old pupil refused to trade in his hair gel and deodorant for unscented alternatives. It almost got him a criminal record. His teacher, highly sensitive to fragrance, blamed the scent for triggering a vomiting attack. She called the incident an 'assault' and was backed by the school. The teen was handed over to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police but released without charge. 

I'd Rather Smell by SINSULL

Sinsull's Comments:  With apologies to my Canadian neighbors:

A Mountie rode alone Toronto's Metro
Sweaty red wool stench worn like a shroud
It suffused the crowded train
And yet this was the refrain
From his fellow riders caught within the cloud

(Refrain)
I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

The Blue Jays played a game at Yankee Stadium
The NY team smelled fresh and sweet and clean
But Toronto's locker room
Reeked of various bodily fumes
To the fans up in the bleachers they did scream

I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

The provinces up north have banned all perfume
Poisoned scents or lotions are a crime
Public toilets smell of shit
Better that than cans of flit
For the population's safe from toxic climes.

And they'd rather smell themselves than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

Subject: SB: Ida Lewis by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:28 AM

Ida Lewis by Barry Finn
Tune: Turkey Rhubarb, Traditional

Ida Lewis left Newport at the age of fifteen.
Moved onto Lime Light Rock in the 1850's.
Her father was a captain, now keeper of the light,
Soon the duties fell on Ida to keep the lamps burning bright.

Her sisters and brother, she'd row to school every day,
In a small open lifeboat across the rough bay.
From his wheelchair her father would watch though the storms,
In horror as Ida would row the children back home.

Renowned for her skills, no matter the weather.
At swimming or rowing no man was her better.
At the age of sixteen, she had saved four men's lives,
By the time she retired she had saved twenty five.

Now there are saints on the water, and demons in the sea,
One and all they praise Ida for her great bravery.
On the very night this woman died, who'd lived on the shoals,
Every bell on every boat in Newport did toll.

Now they've renamed that rock, the Ida Lewis Rock Light. 
And in her honor today, the light is still burning bright.
But sometimes at night when it's rough and it's cold,
Some claim to see Ida pulling boys from the foam.

Copyright Barry Finn 1997

Subject: SB: Ice Damming by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:28 AM

Ice Damming by Barry Finn
(Tune:  Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changing")

It's winter in New England and throughout the land
The trucks start rolling with all available hands 
It's a party, a tradition, a picnic, a plan
Over mountains of snow they attack the Ice Dams

Chorus:
And you hear everywhere the cry Ice Dam
It's a flue, it's a fever that spreads through the land
Man your pickups, your axes, every woman and man
And answer the call and the cry Ice Dam

Blaze a path round a house in snow that's waist deep
Take a rake or a shovel and clear up 3 feet
Crawl the edge of the dam on a roof that's to steep
And start pounding on ice and let nobody sleep

On a 40 foot ladder that slides on the ice
Out comes the homeowner who tries to be nice
I like what you're doing but I don't like you're price
For a few dollars less would you still risk your life

Some shingles may break and the ice will sure fall
If we land on your shrubs sure you'll give us a call
Your check will bounce as we bounce off your walls
It must be illegal to have such a ball

Like ants, like termites we're all over your roof
We cry Ice Dam and drink 100 proof
In the news and the papers we're spreading the truth
When ice damming is done we're a winter recluse

Copyright, Barry Finn 1996 (winter) 

Subject: SB: I Wish I Was Back Home by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:27 AM

I Wish I Was Back Home by Amergin (originally posted on this thread)

Chorus:
I wish I was on the Kootenai River
I wish I was among those northern hills
I wish I was on the Kootenai River
I wish I was back home…

Walking down the street past the closed up shops
Snuggling against the cold in the snowlit night
Hands stuffed into pockets, hiding from the chill
Hood blanketing the head, fighting winter's bite

Frozen shoelaces flap around with each step
Smoky tendrils of fog escape the twitching lips
Snowmen standing by the sidewalks greeting
Passersby with outstretched wooden fingertips

Chorus

Slogging across the sodden lawn, snow receding
Dandelions poke their heads up embracing the sun
Birds come back north to raise their families
The Kootenai singing on, rambling down her run

The rain clouds shift and congregate in prayer
Darkening, crying out in joy at the coming spring
The farmers work their fields, riding the tractor cats
The birds bring out their flutes to play "On The Wing"

Chorus

Schools out, kids across the street playing baseball
Birds dance on the limbs as their kids leave the nest
Bees whistle as they pollinate, spreading the nectar
The sun reaches out its arms caressing the rivers breast

The piper from Creston leading the annual parade
The huckleberry pies sit on the table in patriotic glory
Swimmers dive beneath the clear depths of Deep Crick
Listening to the water whistle its endless story

Chorus

The geese cry, flying towards their southern refuge
The leaves turn brown, rotting from their treetops
The flowers sink down, hiding from the coming cold
The windows pound in the impact of the raindrops

The schoolyards bellow with the laughter of children
Down the valleys the cold wind begins to blow
Guns roar in the hills, hunting for elk and deer
Firewood is gathered in preparation to the coming snow

Chorus

Subject: SB: I Can't Reach My Beer by Frankee
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:25 AM

I Can't Reach My Beer by Frankee
(A slow,country, dirge-like, cry in your beer waltz sung with a nasal twang. Think Faron Young.)

When we first started courting
You made me feel like a king
But now that you left me I don't feel a thing
Lying face down in this barroom and missing you dear
Help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

If I could get one shot of courage
I'd stand on my feet
Get up out of this sawdust and into the street
Well I'd find your new boyfriend and punch him into next year
But help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

BRIDGE

Oh who would of thought I'd wind up like this
Can't even stand up to take me a... to the lavatory
I guess I'll spend my life on this old barroom floor
Cursing your name and calling you a whor,-or,-or,-or -rible person.

But fightin' and hatin' ain't no way to live
So I guess I'll have to find a way to forgive
In fact I'd like to drink a toast to the one who put me down here
But help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer
(additional line) My darlin', I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:10 AM

If somebody wants to check to here and see if I've got them all so far, I'd be grateful.
G'nite.
-Joe-

Subject: SB: Hummingbird Song by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:09 AM

Hummingbird Song by harpgirl

Today I saw a hummingbird
Flyin in my backyard
He was pokin his head in the flowers
Tastin each one in the yard

That pretty green bird he flew
Sippin that sweet honeydew
Hoverin and dartin in the morning sun
Fly off when he's through

Reminds me of a man
With a spirit flyin free
He came on down from North Platte town
And here he courted me

Hummingbirds are like the men
Soar with the fickle wind
There they're in your flowers
Then they're off again

So I'm just sittin and rockin
To the rhythm of the blowin wind
Singin and watchin from the backporch
For the hummingbird again

He'll come and taste my flowers
Sippin to his heart's content
Then he flies away so daggone fast
I don't see where he went

Suddenly he's flyin back
I see he's got a friend
Sailing around my flowers
Riding on the wind

Come on over you pretty bird
I'm sure we haven't met
How do you like my flowers
Are they sweet as a baby's breath

I'd like to try to catch you
Keep you in a cage
Have you for my very own
Until my dyin day

But I'm gonna keep on rockin
And let you birds fly free
You'd no more love just one kind of flower
Than that boy only me 
Than that boy only me 
Than that boy only me

Subject: SB: How Did I Get Here? by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:08 AM

How Did I Get Here? by Amergin
(Tune: Drifting Too Far From Shore)

When I woke up this morning
With the pounding in my head
I looked at my surroundings
Realised I was in a strange bed

Chorus:
Now how did i get here?
Just how did I get here?
Last night I went drinking
Saw a cute girl winking
And I wonder, how the hell I got here?

On the nightstand was her wig
And her teeth in a glass jar
Her bald head on the pillow
No more I go to that bar

Chorus

I went to the pub last night
And she was just sitting there
She looked so damn beautiful
After eight pints of good beer

Chorus

Oh, as she lay there sleeping
I had to stretch out my hand
Along the hair on her legs
I realised she was a man

Chorus

Subject: SB: Homeless, Broke and Hungry by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:07 AM

Homeless, Broke and Hungry by reggie miles

What happened to the salvation in Salvation Army?
Oh where's all the good in Goodwill?
And where has the saint in Saint Vincent De Paul gone,
now that I've grown so ill?
The bottom's dropped out, I'm out on the street
and my prospects are all lookin' nil.
Oh, what's happened to the salvation in Salvation Army,
and where's all the good in Goodwill?

I went to the gospel mission today,
The Church Of The Kindly Light,
and asked for a little something to eat
and someplace to sleep for the night.
They told me there wasn't any room at the inn
and that the kitchen was closed for the day.
Then they enlightened in no uncertain terms,
they said get out and be on your way.

Disillusioned I wandered without being fed
with no place to lay my poor weary head.
Then I spied a green dumpster full of discarded bread
but when I tried to dive in, the store clerk just said.
Go on now. Move along. That's no place to be.
Have you tried gettin' food stamps? I hear that they're free.
I told him I'd never been this down before.
He just solemnly pointed the way out the door.

As nightfall fell, there came a chill to the air.
So I went to a thrift store, to buy cold weather wear.
But the prices they asked for those donated clothes,
were beyond what my meager wallet could hold.
Hungry and cold I roamed aimless through town.
Until I paused to rest where no chair could be found.
And as I sat on the sidewalk to ease my sore feet,
I was fined fifty dollars for sittin' on the street.

What happened to the salvation in Salvation Army?
Oh where's all the good in Goodwill?
And where has the saint in Saint Vincent De Paul gone,
now that I've grown so ill?
The bottom's dropped out, I'm out on the street
and my prospects are all lookin' nil.
Oh, what's happened to the salvation in Salvation Army,
and where's all the good in Goodwill?

There's a moral here somewhere, maybe three or four.
Without compassion for each other what are we livin' for?
When the greed of the rich out weighs the need of the poor,
what's left is a world that's fit to abhor.

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: His Only Consolation by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:06 AM

His Only Consolation by Amergin

He find himself sitting there
Staring out the darkened glass
Thinking of her golden smile
And the time he saw her last

Standing together in the station
Holding each other against the cold
His lips slowly caressing hers
Hands brushing back the yellow gold
The approaching call of the whistle
Shatters the sweetness of the dusky air
His arms unfold from around her waist
And walks away into the electric glare

He grips the bottle in his hand
Memories falling in scattered rhyme
Beer soothingly coats his tongue
As his thoughts roll back the time

The car door opens and out she steps
Blonde hair twinkling in the sunlight
Arms open to envelop him with her love
Her gentle laughter singing with delight
His bag softly bounces upon his back
As he trounces into the warmth of her arms
His lips press gently down into hers
Remembering the warmth of her tender charms

He slams the empty bottle to the table
In the lamplight his teardrops gleam
Each drop holding a precious memory
Each drop containing a shattered dream

He lies there in the bed next to her
Soaking the warmth into his tired skin
He holds her sleeping form to his body
Patiently waiting for sleep to descend
He watches her closed dreaming eyes
And listens to her velvet breaths fall
Her quiet beauty glowing in the darkness
His eyelids drop, he hears the siren's call

He stumbles to his bed where three dogs lie
Gazing at him in constant expectation
Drunken sorrow leaps with him, her love
In the next life is his only consolation

©Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Hilary's Piggies by The Singing Referee
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:05 AM

Hilary's Piggies by The Singing Referee (a/k/a Steve Last)

The Singing Referee's Comments:  A couple of weeks ago a few of us from the St. Albans Folk Club were holding an informal chorus session at the Blue Anchor in St. Albans. During a break in proceedings one of our number, Hilary, re-entered the bar in a state of some consternation, having visited the ladies room. (No, I said CONSTERNATION!) Apparently she had glanced in the mirror, (as you do) and had noticed that the earrings she was wearing, a pair of miniature pigs suspended on long stems, were facing in the wrong direction and had been presenting their backsides to the assembled gathering during the evening thus far. Hilary's greatest concern appeared to be that we, her so called friends, had failed to point out this situation and had left her unknowingly in this state of disrepair until she had noticed it herself. I was so moved by her utter dismay that I was inspired to write this song. . .


Oh, your pigs were facing backwards when they should have faced the front.
You must have dressed too carelessly, if I could be so blunt.
When you went to the ladies room and looked into the glass,
Instead of their sweet faces, all that you could see was ar__.

They were dangling from your earlobes on such long and slender poles.
You must have got them twisted when the hooks went in the holes,
Or maybe when they heard us sing your piggies they took fright,
And turned their backs to save their ears from such an awful plight.

And how you may think the likes of this is of such small import,
But to this lady folk singer it's nothing of the sort.
For the piggies lead her choruses, and posterior alignment
Might result in harmonies that lack her usual refinement.

Now the moral of this story is so plain for all to see,
When wearing fancy jewellery you must dress most carefully.
For your friends can't be relied on to point out your indiscretion,
Just to cause you great embarrassment at your next folk club session

Subject: SB: Hiders In Holes by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:03 AM

Hiders In Holes by The Shambles

These hiders from light
Talk boldly of fight
They tell an unconvincing story

These hiders in caves
Send young men to their graves
To die, they believe in glory

What is this cause?
These holy wars!
You may choose to pay the ultimate price
But do the misused?
Have the right to choose?
Those who will share their sacrifice?

These hiders in holes
These sellers of souls
These market dealers in doom

Hiders behind skirts
They nurture their hurts
With arms that reach out from the gloom

Why the cry?
An eye for an eye!
That retribution be both swift and ruthless?
Is it the master plan?
That each and every land
Be filled with the blinded and the toothless?

These hiders can lie
The dark blinding their eyes
Safe from those that would kill them

These hiders may hide
They're safe inside
Let them have their holes . . . and then fill them

© Roger Gall 2001

Subject: SB: He's Gonna Go to War by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:00 AM

He's Gonna Go to War by Amos
(Tune: He's In the Jailhouse Now; J. Rogers)

I knew a guy named Dithering George
He used to weasel, lie and forge
Until he got elected Prezzy-dent.
Now he's actin' quite the boy
He got himself a bran' new toy
He thinks the US war machine was simply heaven-sent!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Now ole George is kinda slimy
He talks tough, dumb and old-timey
And he never says just what he's shootin' for.
But you can bet your bottom dollar
He'll pout and rave and holler
If we don't let him take his toys, and start another war!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Ya know ole Georgy ain't no fairy
Why he bought the Judiciary
And he knows just how to bully, push and scare
An' he's done some fancy stepping
'Bout the threat of Nukyular Weapons,
And he'd sure be quite embarrassed, if them weapons wasn't there!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Subject: SB: Hello, Michael, It's Me by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 02:59 AM

Hello, Michael, It's Me by Amergin

Hello, Michael, it's me
It's been a long time since I saw you last
In your uniform as you proudly marched past
M-16 on your shoulder, eyes straight ahead
As you paraded down the pavement gallant and calm
To the dark sweltering jungles of Vietnam
30 years have gone by, are you alive or are you dead?

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your young son, John, is a man full grown
Married with two wonderful sons of his own
He looks and sounds just like his dear father
From the twinkle in his eyes to his lopsided grin
From the brown in his hair to the red on his chin
The very strides he takes holds your spirt together

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your photograph is faded, weathered and worn
Happily holding the baby, when Johnny was born
Stands on a dark table stained with growing years
And your letters sit folded on my dancing breast
The words blotched and wrinkled, pages torn at the crease
Spotted with the salt drying from my tears

Hello, Michael, it's me
The christmas lights dance in the window red and green
your unopened presents sit beneath the shining tree
Can you feel the laughter in the children's joyous call
As we saunter down the pathways frozen and bare
Bearing roses through the cold snow spotted air
To find your name forever etched into a granite wall?

Goodbye, Michael, Merry Christmas.
Please come home soon.

Copyright Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Hell No To The WTO by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 02:58 AM

Hell No To The WTO by reggie miles

Now I'm just an average kind of guy
and I don't keep up with the political side
but I heard some disturbin' news just the other day.
It seems there're these multinational corporations,
with their sights set on global exploitation
and they don't care who they step on along the way.

Well I say no, hell no, to the WTO.
Them planet trashin' power mungers
have really got to go.
Those world trade disorganizers,
are just thievin' greedy misers.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

On a Monday in late November,
they rallied at the exhibition center and when the people
tried to protest on that day.
They were denied the right
to be near the vicinity.
The FBI kept all but nine at bay.

And they were shoutin', no, hell no, to the WTO.
Those behind closed doors deal makers
can all pack their bags and go.
We're gonna shine the light of day,
on their dirty dealin' way.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

When I read in our Constitution
how our forefathers through revolution
freed themselves from the tyranny of an oppressive state.
It makes me want to join the fight
and stand up for what is right,
unite in song and sing along for freedom's sake.

Sing it, no, hell no, to the WTO.
Sing it loud and sing it proud,
we ain't gonna take this any more.
Spread the news across the world,
Seattle's battle flag's unfurled.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

What a glorious day to be
an American and see, 
all the people in the streets with protest signs.
Fighting corporate tyranny,
in this land of the free,
don't you know brothers and sisters I got mine.

I'm singin', no, hell no, to the WTO.
Them lowdown teargas tossin',
double crossin' traitors, got to go.
Those world trade disorganizers,
are just jackbooted terrorizers.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO!

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: Half Written Letter by JudeL
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:57 AM

Half Written Letter by JudeL
(There is a tune - but I don't do the dots thing - so it'll have to wait until later)

JudeL's Comments:  Then here's my offering. I don't know if it's the sort of song that goes in the book but it's mine and writing it helped me at the time.

Chorus:
Just a half written letter,
To a friend I once knew,
Packed away with my dreams,
Of what I meant to do

I was writing to tell her,
Now that I was a wife,
Of my baby son growing ,
'Bout the joy in my life,
But now all it triggers,
Is sadness and tears,
Shed for all of those dreams,
That I lost though the years,

Chorus

Not a person to my husband,
Not marriage but despair,
I was just a possession,
Not for me did he care,
But the thing that caused changes,
The one final straw,
Was when I realised,
I couldn't find me anymore

Chorus

Now I'm gradually learning,
To dream once again,
To take time to be me,
Joy and laughter reclaimed,
I can share when I chose to
I have learn't to be strong,
Rediscovering myself,
Who I was all along.

Chorus

Subject: SB: Grossosity! by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:56 AM

Grossosity! by reggie miles

Reggie's Comments:  Upon exploring a book fair, I ran across a particularly interesting work of nonfiction written for children which described the grosser workings of our bodies in some detail.  I expanded upon what I had read about within that book, (just slightly ;~)), and developed the following.  Then I used part of the melody of the song, With Her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm, as sung by Rudy Valley and his Valley Boys, to work with my verse structure.  Don't ask me how, but it seemed to work.

Bats flutter in my belfry when I'm dreamin' in my bed
I'm guessin' they got in there through these holes here in my head.
I'd like to shed this feelin' that some day I'll wake up dead.
I've tried a frontal lobotomy and every remedy bottle in front of me.
But nothin' that I've tried has helped this dread.
Sooo! I just cry myself to sleep each night instead.

Green and crusty boogers they reside inside my nose.
Those slimy sinus stalactites clog my nasal breathin' holes.
And there's fungus here among us growin' twixt ten smelly toes.
And the stink'll make you think it must be time to change your hose.
OOOH! The stench'll curl your nose hairs heaven knows.

A big belly full of bicarb bathes a blisterin' boil,
That bubbles when my troubles begin to foil and uncoil.
This royal pain in th' gut is due to one unloyal goil.
So I sit and slowly slurp another sip of castor oil.
OOOH! And I play solitaire in solitude with Hoyle.

I collect belly button lint but it doesn't smell so nice.
So I use a mint deodorant and wash it twice or thrice.
And just in case you're thinkin' that this vice ain't very nice.
My freezer's full of fresh and minty little linty balls of ice.
OOOH! I keep 'em free from lice as linty balls of ice.

Earwax slowly trickles down my eerie ear canals.
And toe jam jams the crevices of all my toenail pals.
An avalanche of dandruff boulders showers down upon my shoulders,
And my doctor nods and jots another note inside my folder.
OOOH! And his nurse says I'll get worse as I get older.

Halitosis haunts my speech and my cornfusional orations.
As my teeth decay and rot away from cavity excavations.
Puss filled acne polka dots my face. Pimples are poppin' up everyplace.
I'm a disgrace as an example of the human race.
OOOH! It looks like I may be a hopeless case.

Unspeakable odors waft up from down below.
They breezily squeeze with ease between my knees as they flow.
Whiff my pungent armpit aroma, and you will end up in a coma.
You'll be longin' for the pleasant scent of ol' Tacoma.
OOOH! You'd rather have a squirtin' skunk inside your home. AHHH!

Two bloodshot orbs gaze back at me when in the mirror I stare.
A wrinkled road map decorates the face that's gawkin' there.
And my receding hairline's left my head completely bare.
I don't know why I bother livin' when this life is so unfair.
OOOH! Now applaud and pretend you even care.

Subject: SB: Grieving by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:55 AM

Grieving by Spider Tom
(© Ken (Spider Tom) Robertson 4/6/1996)

(1) I need the darkness,
And it should rain.
Just you leave me,
Alone again.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.


(2) Don't want, no one,
I'm feeling numb.
My chest is strangled,
My heart, struck dumb.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.

Chorus 
The loss, steals your everything,
The pain and the hurt, it brings,
And there's no one, or nothing,
Can cure the ache.
D It's said, time heals everything,
But it's healing no one.
Time, it won't heal,
It will just make you numb.

(3) 
Life is held by,
A tiny thread,
And, when it breaks,
Is that the end?


I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,

(4) 
Life's a battle,
'Tween hopes, and fears.
Now hope is drowning,
In a stream of tears.

I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight, (chorus)

(5)
I hear the laughter,
In the streets of loss,
As life is chanced, like
A coin that's tossed.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,

(6)
A million tears,
Won't cure the pain,
They're bringing nothing,
Back again.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight!

Grieving © Ken Robertson 4/6/1996

Subject: SB: Greet Me In The Morning by Kathleen Logan
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:54 AM

Greet Me In The Morning by Kathleen Logan
(Tune: Star Of The County Down)

Oh, my dear he rests in my loving arms
In the quiet of early day..
But, when evening passes is he gone?
Oh, my love what can I say?

Chorus:
Will you greet me in the morning, when the sunlight fills your hair,
Or will I awake from my dreaming love to find that you're not there?

Will you come with me to the shadowland
Where wayward lovers sing
I'll take your hand and we'll share the dance
And we'll see what morning brings

(Chorus)

Will you sail with me to the lovers sea
Where tender times know no door
And we'll watch the waves bring our memories
Swift and constantly to the shore.

(Chorus)

Oh what chance has this love of mine
As it sails upon the wind
Without a resting spot to find
Just the memories of him

(Chorus)

© Kathleen Logan

Subject: SB: The Great Music Show by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:53 AM

The Great Music Show by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  (In re Woodstock)  Lots of good memories.  I got there more or less by chance - I was over there for a pacifist conference due the next week, and someone offered me a lift to some kind of festival that was going on.   I remember waking up smashed in the morning and wandering over to the Hog Farm free kitchen, where I found myself working stirring up peculiar messes of food and serving it to lines of survivors, holding the tent down when the rainstorm broke upon us and nearly blew us away, and joining in a jug band when night came around.  Better than any of the music on stage. And some of that was pretty good.  The someone comes round with boxes of chocky bars and that that was supposed to be thrown out to people wedged up the front, and I got in for that, up on stage while Jefferson Airplane were playing, before we got to do our throwing act.  So I wasn't just at Woodstock, I was on stage there!  Come the 25th anniversary someone on our local paper thought they'd find a local angle on it, and came and interviewed me about it.  (Well there aren't many Woodstock survivors in West Essex, I think, and my son had told him about me).  Thinking about it afterwards I wrote a song:


When I got there, all around 
you could feel it start to grow. 
There were thousands upon thousands,
people moving to and fro,
and the roads were blocked behind us - 
there was no way you could go. 
We were cast away, so far away 
in that Great Music Show. 

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

Well the smoke and the sunshine 
nearly felled me like a blow, 
but I rose like a salmon 
as my mind began to glow, 
And I was heaving like a sailor 
when the tent began to go, 
and the wind and the rain 
they were walking to and fro.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

And the music on the mountain 
in the morning when we rose 
seemed to open up a window 
that could never quite be closed. 
And the brightest and the best 
they may have died so long ago, 
but I saw them there all shining 
at the Great Music Show.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

And you can ask me for the reasons 
why we ever chose to go 
to those hills so far and foreign 
to a place we did not know. 
But the reasons they are hidden 
in the days of long ago, 
when the world stood amazed 
at that Great Music Show.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

c. Kevin McGrath 1994

Subject: SB: The Green Autumn Stubble by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:52 AM

Mbo says: Well folks, I'm going to be using this thread to post the lyrics to my songs on. As I make subsequent midis, I'll add the lyrics in. Here are the lyrics for the songs on the Mudcat Midi Site.

THE GREEN AUTUMN STUBBLE
Poem by Patrick Brown, Chorus by Matthew Richards (Mbo)

When stubble-lands were greening, you came among the stooks
And grace was in your feet then, and love was in your looks
In your cheeks the rose grew redder, and your hair in clusters lay
And I would we lived together, or together slipped away

CHORUS:
She strode the green autumn stubble, on that fatefull day
And Oh! I thank the Lord above for bringing you my way
It's true He hears His people's prayers, don't care what critics say
For He surely answered mine, alright, when He crossed our paths that day!

I had a dream on Wednesday, that bitter was the frost
And I saw my love lamenting at dawn that I was lost
Methought I came beside her and held her tenderly
And all Erin I defied then to part my love and me

My curse on him is spoken who keeps my love from me
And swears that to our courting he never will agree
For though skies should send the deluge or the snowy North it's flakes
We two could live as pleasant as the swans upon the lakes

The sea-gulls heart is merry when fish is in his beak
And the eel within Lough Eyrne can swim from creek to creek
And I spoke tripping Gaelic, and merry songs I've sung
But now my wits are crazy and leaden is my tongue.

Subject: SB: Good for the Heart (Jacob Bloom)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:45 AM

GOOD FOR THE HEART (Jacob Bloom)

Your doctor might tell you to lose weight and diet And go out and jog every morning at five And you might attempt to get out there and try it And find yourself feeling just barely alive Come over to my place, this jogging alone On those dangerous streets cannot be very smart And we'll go out walking tonight in the moonlight Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

Your doctor will say that you shouldn't eat sugar Or French fries, or hot dogs, or barbecued steak Or fried eggs, or bacon, or freshly brewed coffee Or three-layer fudge-frosted chocolate nut cake Come over to my place, I'll put on some music And pull out my cookbook and calorie chart I'll make a low-calorie, candlelight dinner Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

If your blood pressure's high, your doctor will tell you To try to relax, and to minimize stress There's a medical need to get rid of the tensions That come when you struggle too hard for success Come over to my place, I'll give you a backrub In my eyes you've been a success from the start I'll hold you and tell you just how much I love you Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

A parody of "How Can I Keep From Singing"

The long-awaited Summer comes Cold Winter's compensation And yet, if the whole truth be told There's one small irritation For in the pond behind the house Mosquito eggs are hatching And when in time they start to bite How can I keep from scratching.

What though I swat with open hand I hear a buzzzzzzzzzz - it liveth. What though I use that bug spray can Bites in the night it giveth. And after all, it matters not If one or two I'm catching For while I do, ten more will bite. How can I keep from scratching.

I'll grit my teeth, and for a time My skin I will be patching. Yet, though I bathe in calamine, How can I keep from scratching. I'll put an end to my complaint. I'll smile and stop my bitching. Yet, must I suffer like a saint? How can I keep from - scritching.

Need a silly or serious song written for a wedding, anniversary, holiday, Bat Mitzvah, Bar Mitzvah or any special event? Contact Jacob Bloom at [e-mail]

A Klez Act
Story and Dance for a New Jewish Tradition

Subject: SB: Going Up The 'Ace' by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:43 AM

I would like to dedicate this song to Amos (whether he wants it or not), for all his generous contributions. Keep it up. With thanks, The Shambles

Going Up The 'Ace' by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  In the late 50s early 60s, The Ace Café on London's North Circular road, was the place to be and be seen, if you were into 'bikes' and 'bikers'.  Nearly all the British made ones like Triumph, Norton BSA and AJS and such like, could be seen but the occasional Harley would receive admiring glances.  The early Japanese machines were looked upon as a passing fad., ah, those were the days.  I used to go there by bus (oh the shame of it). It seemed then to me, that things would always be the same but . . .


Well, you can keep all of your 'fancy' restaurants
Right here, are all of the things that a man could want
Good 'Old Gerry Lee's', never gonna change his tune
And they'll never take away, this 'Greasy Spoon'

Now the night is filled with such a 'Triumphant' noise
Roaring in from Windsor, it's the 'Bonneville' boys
The leather girls, they really don't want to leave those boys alone
They're busy choosing, who is the one who's gonna take them home

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face

See the 'ton-up' vicar, all dressed in PVC
Preaching salvation, says God is reaching out to me
His congregation, they just stand and stare
No need to promise me Heaven, for I'm already there

Hear the juke-box blearing out, 'Leader Of The Pack'
Sandy limps in, and she's still dressed in black
I see her trying to hold back a tear, as she joins the queue
She's there on her own, but she's still orders for two

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face

There's a bike here from each and every part of the land
There's a guy here that's riding one that's even 'made in Japan'
All this 'hot metal' just waiting to explode
Getting ready to 'burn-up' the North Circular Road

Well, you can keep all of your 'fancy' restaurants
Right here, are all of the things that a man could want
Good 'Old Gerry Lee's', never gonna change his tune
And they'll never take away, this 'Greasy Spoon'

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face.

Of course they did take it away -- Roger Gall.

Subject: SB: Ghosts Of Our Nation by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:42 AM

Ghosts Of Our Nation by InOBU
(Words: Lorcan Otway, all rights reserved / Tune: The Shamrock Shore)

Farewell to the land, of Jefferson and Franklin
Farewell to the dreams of the good Thomas Paine
We've have sacrificed our freedom, on the alter of security
and I fear we may not soon see the likes of them again,
For this land was more than a flag or a slogan
this land was more than its rocks or its clay
This land was a gift given us by great thinkers
a dream which lesser men have now cast away

The rule of law is hobbled and no rights are now held sacred
except the right to steal and plunder in the name of corporate greed
While bible thumping patriots, in the guise of elder statesmen
rob for the wealth few from the people in most need
Now our prisons are full of the men of no property
and back alleys are filled with the hopeless and insane
but still we are told, that this is the land of liberty
and told to ignore those our country causes pain

Who can hold up their head, and proud proclaim their homeland
while leaders wet the assassins knife by stealth upon the road
this is not the act of a land of law and of justice
no mater who the target, we must live by legal code
What light of hope now shines in the halls of Philadelphia
what words of bravery speak out from the senate floor
what black thoughts now taint with blood, the hopes of a nation
when politicitions make sweat liberty their whore

But I cast my gaze, to the hills of our history,
while I stake my few hopes on the words of our past
For while a spark shines on, in the ashes of these ruins
the light of freedom's fires may displell the shadows cast
And each one of you, who remembers where we came from
proclaim your love liberity and reject the cynics sneer
cast fear upon the pyre of the promices of tyrants
turn away from craven cowards, and true hearts now draw near.

Subject: SB:The Game by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:40 AM

The Game by Amergin

His cousin is at her work
His mom is at night school
A 12 year old boy watches him
He must obey all the rules
His homework is all done
He tries to find something to do
But evenings with Jerry are boring
Today he learned to tie his shoe
Jerry comes to him and asks,
"Do you want to play a game?"

They go into his darkened bedroom
Curtains block the eyes of the sun
The door slams shut behind them
Jerry slavers with anticipation
"The doctor is coming," he is told
And his pants fall to the floor
"Touch me right here, like this."
Jerry smiles, his lust begins to roar
Jerry moans softly into his ear
"Now we are ready to start the game."

He lies upon his bed, face down
Feeling the heavy body crawl upon him
Pain inflames his six year old body
As the hot flesh descends within him
Jerry pants into his young neck
Gasping aloud with each burning thrust
Warm fluid mixes with the child's blood
As Jerry spends his great power lust
The mom comes home and he hides ashamed
Realising that he lost this game

Subject: SB: Friends Like You by nutty
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:27 AM

Friends Like You by nutty

I don't care where I lay my head
Be it floor or feather bed
As long as there are friends around like you
I don't care what I have to eat
Or what I wear upon my feet
As long as there are friends around like you

CHORUS
As long as I can sing my song
As long as you will sing along
And share in almost eveything I do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

I don't care if my hair turns grey
Or if the family comes to stay
As long as there are friends around like you
I don't care if the kids get cross
Or if I argue with my boss
As long as there are friends around like you

As long as I can sing my song
As long as you will sing along
And share in almost everything I do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

When I'm growing old and frail
My spirit it will never fail
As long as there are friends around like you

And when these earthly days are done
The memories will linger on
As long as there are friends around like you

For then I know you'll sing my song
For then I know you'll sing along
And talk of all the things we used to do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

Subject: SB: "Friends" by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:25 AM

"Friends" by MMario


MMario's Comments:  This was actually composed for a renaissance faire that never got off the ground.  It has been used for a summer camp.  I offer it then for Mudcat Radio...somehow it seems appropriate for an electronic forum.


Can I call you friend, although we've barely met?
Can I call you friend, we only met today
Can I call you friend, as we go on our way
Can I call you friend, as we end our day?

I do not even know your names,
we do not speak, nor dress the same
We're here today, and gone tomorrow
Why should this be cause for sorrow?
Unless I call ye friend?

So shall I call ye friend, although we've barely met?
Shall I call ye friend, we only met today
Shall I call ye friend, as we go on our way?
Shall I call ye friend, as we end our day?

I was a stranger when I came to town
You bid me welcome and you sat me down
We sang and danced and banished sorrow
And as today becomes tomorrow, I know I've found a friend

So shall I call ye friend, I knoh we've barely met?
Shall I call ye friend, a friend I met today
Shall I call ye friend, as we go on our way?
Shall I call ye friend, as we end our day?

Now raise your glass and pass it 'round
and drink a toast to the MudCat down
And as we part, for our tomorrows
Let Joy remain, instead of sorrow!

For I will call ye friend, although we've barely met!
I will call ye friend, a friend I met today!
I will call ye friend, as we go on our way
I will call ye friend, as we end our day
As we end our day...
as we end our day...
Yes, I will call ye friend.

Subject: SB: F-R-E-E by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:24 AM

F-R-E-E by reggie miles

reggies Comments:  Here you go, another protest song. How can I protest something that's free you ask? Well, allow me the oppotunity to delineate, articulate, insinuate and illuminate further if you will. The constant badgering by various advertisers to capture my attention has taken it's toll. Now the one word that I've treasured for so many years has been reduced to being used as a cheap trick by those same advertisers to hide their true intentions. That is, to glean personal information to resell or otherwise use in an underhanded way, or to mask hidden fees. What next? It's gettin' so a body can't escape the doublespeak even in the innocent little four letter word f-r-e-e.


Four letter words don't bother me,
Except the one that's spelled f-r-e-e.
It's not that I mind when people use it.
It's just that some folks like to abuse it.

Like the guy on the phone the other day,
Who had free airline tickets to give away,
And they came with a complimentary hotel stay.
I asked, "What's the catch?" Here's what he had to say.

"You'll be flying fourth class on your trip through the sky.
You'll have to cover any taxes and fees that apply.
Your meals will cost extra in this situation."
So I hung up the phone on our conversation.

Then I received an email spam.
"Free, millions of dollars!" It began.
"Follow my instructions. Read my book.
It won't cost you a dime to take a look."

"Just send me your credit card information,
And some additional documentation,
A Social Security number and a picture I.D.,
And fill out this ten-page questionnaire for me."

"I'll need your phone number and your passport too,
Your fingerprints or a retina scan will do.
A notarized copy of your birth certificate,
And don't forget to send it in triplicate."

Then a notice came, special delivery.
You've won a house make over, absolutely free.
Well scrape and we'll paint your entire abode.
I knew that I should've said, "Hit the road!"

But the house needed paint so I said, "Okay."
And before I knew it, it was house paintin' day.
They came and they painted all the daylong.
But before it was finished they'd packed up and gone.

So there I was left with a half painted house,
And an aching back and an angry spouse.
And now six months later, it still isn't done.
Painting a house just isn't much fun.
So if you've got a free offer don't darken my door.
Don't bother emailing or calling no more.
Don't waste your breath trying to convince me.
That anything's worth having if it's F-R-E-E.

You can keep your free bargains and your two for one deals,
On software or hardware, on drinks or on meals.
I don't want your free CDs or free debt reduction.
I don't need your free books or free website seduction.

Take me off your callback list and just let me be.
There's nothing you have that I'm wanting, you see.
One last piece of advice and it's free from me.
You get what you pay for
and more than you bargain for when it's F-R-E-E.

Subject: SB: For What It's Worth by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:23 AM

For What It's Worth by Mbo

So you ask me why I love you
Well, the answer is hard to say
But I know
A drop of your existence everyday
Of my life, has changed me
And your smile drives the cold winter away...

I never knew what true love meant
I was unsure that I'd find out
But now I know
Just what it means to love another human being
Thanks to you, you are my world
And you're more beautiful than all I've ever seen...

Prechorus:
And why do I do these things, you may say
When other girls and chances try to lead me astray
From the golden road of your love...
I walk away, leave them behind
Because I'd rather close my eyes and see you inside my mind

And why do I do it?

Chorus:
For what it's worth
That's why I do the things I do
To gain a future I can share with you
Oh my love will never bend
For it's you I want to spend 
Forever with...
All I love is you, you are all I love
And I want to make you see
That what it's worth
Is worth the world to me

And I tell you now
That I'd wait for you forever
And I know
That those who dare to sever
Me from you, will not succeed
They can't change the way I feel about you, never!

And my mind
Has come to realize
That it may be
A long time yet before this hand of mine
Can hold your hand, or touch your face
Or I can gaze into your blue and shining eyes

Prechorus:
And why do I do these things, you may say
When other girls and chances try to lead me astray
From the golden road of your love...
I walk away, leave them behind
Because I'd rather close my eyes and see you inside my mind

So why do I keep going?

Chorus:
For what it's worth
That's why I do the things I do
To gain a future I can share with you
Oh my love will never bend
For it's you I want to spend 
Forever with...
All I love is you, you are all I love
And I want to make you see
That what it's worth
Is worth the world to me

What it's worth....
Is worth the world to me

(© Matthew Richards 2000)

Subject: SB: For Caroline by Bradypus
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:22 AM

For Caroline by Bradypus

Bradypus' Comments:  This song was written when my daughter Caroline was 2 days old.  It was based on two very strong feelings: firstly, how wonderful life is, especially a new life, and secondly how quickly we learn to love someone new.  I'm sure I felt exactly the same way when Caroline's sisters were born - but this time, I wrote it down so I won't forget.

How does your heart remember to beat? 
Look at your fingers, so tiny and neat 
Red puffy eyes and soft baby skin 
New little life all set to begin.

Sleep when you can, and cry when you need 
Try to look round, and take a good feed 
Awake in the night, we try not to complain 
We just want to make you happy again.

There are people to meet, there are things to be done 
But just being with you is so much more fun. 
And so I've nothing better to do 
Than sit here and wonder at you. 

Subject: SB: Floating by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:21 AM

Floating by Amergin

The fire is burning bright
Sending warmth into the room
Outside the skies are darkened
With winter's oppressive gloom
Music is playing on the stereo
A soothing medley of wintry tunes
You sit beside me, cuddle with me
For warmth in the late afternoon

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

The wine stands in the crystal glasses
The merlot is shining a bloody red
The Christmas lights wink and dance
As yellow strands weave down your head
Whispers rise and fall with the music
Cigarettes glow in the candlelight
Glasses raise to coat our dry mouths
Heating our souls in the frigid night

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

Blankets curl around the soft lounge
Embracing the bodies with loving desire
Four lips meet and two hands greet
In the passionate heat of the fire
Fingers caress the lines on the palm
Smiles and eyes flicker in the flames
As our hearts murmur in gentle song

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

Subject: SB: The Flamers Game by Gareth
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:20 AM

The Flamers Game by Gareth
(Tune:  One Morning In May, or God on Our Side -- with appologies to Domnic Behan)


Come all ye mud catters, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's own ego is a terrible thing.
It banishes reason, to an anonymous guest name,
And it makes us all part of the flamers game.

My name is Guest, and I've just turned thirteen.
My home is on the internet, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel micro soft's to blame,
So now I am part of the flamers game.

This forum of ours has too long been half free.
Six threads lie under the Troll's tyranny.
But nobody really is greatly to blame
For playing his part in the flamers game.

They told me how Mousethief was hit in his chair,
His wounds from in fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine words twisted, all battered and wane
They soon made me part of the flamers game.

It's nearly two months since I first logged on,
To smite, and to fight, with parodied song.
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the flamers game.

And now as I lie here, my ego all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my posts had given the same
To those Quislings who played in the flamers game.

Subject: SB: The Flag With A Thousand Stars by bert
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:19 AM

The Flag With A Thousand Stars by bert
(The tune is basically 'Home On The Range,' but you'll need to add or subtract a few notes here and there where it doesn't scan.)

bert's Comments: It seems unfashionable at times to support The American Flag, but we mustn't forget that America has another flag with at least as honorable and probably even longer heritage.  That flag is the home made "folk art" flag.  We've seen a lot of them spring up in the past year and here's a song to one particular one that graced a front yard in Phoenixville, PA.

Our country has been through some times that are sad
Our President said we should all fly the flag
but in this town of ours, not a flag can be had,
a flag with the stripes and stars.

A family that lives out on Route 29
Although they'd been searching for such a long time
in all of the county not a flag could they find
that bore the stripes and the stars.

A white sheet from the closet they couldn't go wrong
Scarlet ribbons they stole from an old Christmas song
But even though they searched hard and long
They couldn't find any stars.

'Till at last in a store in an old remnant pile,
They found a remnant that made them all smile
The thing they'd been searching for all of the while
some cotton all covered with stars.

Now the stars were too small, but they thought it might do
It was just the right size and the cotton was blue
So they sewed it together and hung it in view,
A flag with a thousand stars.

Now if Route 29's on your daily commute
Look out for that flag it's really quite cute
and as you drive by, don't forget to salute
The Flag with a Thousand Stars.

Subject: SB: The First Time by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:17 AM

The First Time by Amergin

The first time that I saw you
Coming from out of the dark night
Arms opened in cheerful welcome
Enfolding me in the faded streetlight
Our lips meeting, our hearts beating
We parted only to brush our lips again
As we withstood the cool summer wind
Such was the beauty I saw then

The first time I ate supper with you
In your voice I heard the laughter sing
As we talked around Chinese and beer
And yet today I still hear it ring
Through countless springs and dying kings
I knew that we have met before
I held your hand in ageless love
As we slowly wandered out the door

There was the first time we made love
With the hotel lamps dimmed down
Running my hands along your naked flesh
As the darkness slept over the town
Your gentle skin made my head to spin
With a smile as wide as a glen
As our loving sweat sweetly mingled
Such was the beauty I saw then
Such is the beauty I see now

Then the first time we said goodbye
We held each other unwilling to let go
In the parking lot of the lumber yard
Tears alight in the summer glow
Then down the street with plodding feet
I raised my voice in loving song
Keeping time with each grudging step
Memories of your tenderness remained strong
Such is the beauty I see now

Subject: SB: Firefall by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:16 AM

Firefall by Mbo (Words & Music)


I've got a pain down in my heart
And I just can't seem to start
To do anything, bluebird has broken his wing;
Oh this world is so unkind
I've lost the force that drives my mind
Somewhere out in the cold
In the bright sunsets of gold

Chorus:
And it's sad, wherever I may go
There's always people I don't know
Though I search among the faces there
I know that no one can compare to you;
It's the darkest night in the whole of the world
And I can't see any guiding lights at all
Except for the light of the firefall
Burning up the sky, shining in my eyes

Every night you're in my dreams
The thought of you won't die, it seems
But I'll get over you one day
Isn't that what they always say?
Was it true love or a crush?
Either way, it hurts so much
What can I do?
Can't think of nought of you.

There's nothing that can replace
Your much-beloved face
Eyes so full of light
Won't give me peace at night
I avoid the blue of day
Now that you've gone away
It chokes me up inside
I have to run and hide.

Coda:
Hey, please come back!
I'm so down for the lack
Of you
Of you
Of you

Matthew Richards (2000)

Subject: SB: The First At Slane by markf
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:08 AM

The First At Slane by markf
(Tune: Slane)

markf's Comments:  . . . I sure would appreciate the chance to share (this song) with somebody besides my wife, whom I wrote it for. It's "The Fire At Slane," and set to the tune of "Slane.":

'Cyclin' through Ireland, my sweetheart and I
Thirty miles north of Dublin, when opened the sky
We laughed all through the downpour, we sipped falling rain
That night we dried our clothing out by the fire at Slane

Your skin was a mirror of orange and gold
Reflecting the patterns of flames dancing bold
Warmth arose between us, true love grew within
Two hearts joined together by the fire at Slane

The sun surely winked as he woke us next day
Lighting our path with his sweet yellow rays
Past castle, past stonewall, downhill and 'cross plain
We glided on the memory of the fire at Slane.

An ocean's between us and those springtime roads
Together my true love and I have grown old
But the warmth lingers us with us, love eases our pain
In our hearts glow the embers of the fire at Slane.

© Mark Flanagan 

Subject: SB: Existential Sheep by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:53 AM

Existential Sheep by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  This song has nothing to do with healing but it's a lot of fun to sing.  This is the sort of thing that folkies write when they become philosophy majors.  Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be philosophy majors.

When I was a little lamb, my days were filled with joy
Running through the meadows like a carefree little boy
Eating, sleeping, drinking seemed to occupy my time
And thoughts of Sartre and Kierkegaard, they never crossed my mind

Then I went to Paris, where I saw the Louvre museum
The paintings there by Salvador, my friends told me to see 'em
And when I saw the Dali show, my life was changed for bad
He made me think of all the crazy thoughts I've never had

(Chorus) And now I'm just an existential sheep
When I think of it, it almost makes me weep
My common sense has gone over the deep end
Cos now I'm just an existential sheep, my friend
Now I'm just an existential sheep

When I was a little lamb, I didn't have a care
Running through the grasslands with the flowers in my hair
Talking to the other sheep and sleeping in the sun
When you forget philosophy, it's easy to have fun

But now my life is compromised in oh, so many ways
My brain is now befuddled by a neo-post-Nietzsche haze
My friends have up and left me 'cos they say I talk too weird
And here I sit in silence, I'm just waiting to be sheared

(repeat chorus twice)

© 1981 Alex E. Riggle All Rights Reserved.

Subject: The Endless Roads by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:51 AM

The Endless Roads by McGrath of Harlow
(For the chords, click here)

McGrath's Comments:  A song about what is chillingly called "ethnic cleansing" these days.  When I wrote this it was happening in another part of what had been Yugoslavia.  Now it's Kosovo.  But the list in verse two could (and has) included so many places.  Today's refugees turn into tomorrow's persecutors.  Croats who've been driven from their homes in turn drive out Serbs who in turn drive out Albanians, who frive out Serbs.  Survivors of the Holocaust drive Palestinians from their homes.   I wish I could believe that this is a song that wouldn't keep on being topical.  The tune I sing it to is not unlike that of "The Bleacher Lassie of Kelvinhaugh", which would be a good tune to use for it anyway.


Chorus:
Here is a journey without an ending, 
Through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle?
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

To our lost homes there is no returning,
the stranger dwells where we lived so long
and a bitter taste now is all that's left now
of that lost land which is forever gone.
A last farewell now to all we've known now,
now, we turn our backs as we turn the wheel.
We turn our backs now on our burning homes now,
the broken past and the killing fields.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

From Sarajevo to far Soweto,
from Guatamala and Belfast,
from Sad Kosovo, and the Warsaw Ghetto,
with empty hands, and a heart of glass.
To Babylon we were carried captive, 
from Palestine, where the stranger rules, 
we eat our bread now in this house of exile, 
where the strong grow weak, and the wise are fools.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

And those who'd kill us were once our brothers, 
and those who help us may yet be foes,
to take their turn place on this wheel of hatred, 
that drives us out down those endless roads. 
And so it goes, will it be forever 
till the wheel stops and the madness ends? 
Look down in pity on this world of exiles, 
and teach us some way we can start again.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

Kevin McGrath - 12th May 1993

Subject: SB: Duct and Cover by reggie miles 2003
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:47 AM

Duct and Cover by reggie miles 2003

reggie's Comments:  I just got around to reading that duct tape thread from last month and my last remaining brain cell managed to squeeze out this little dittie. Submitted for your approval.


The threat of war is loomin',
Anthrax bombs may soon be zoomin',
To your bedroom in the suburbs but don't despair.

From deep within his mountain bunker,
Where Gee Dubbya's gonna hunker,
A solution to our dilemma he's sure to share.

Our best scientific minds,
Were charged to seek and find,
An all American answer to our plight,

And with the billions spent,
On research by government,
They finally discovered one that works just right.

Yes they've found it girls and boys.
Protection from those evil toys,
Affordable and available throughout the land,

Yankee ingenuity,
Has triumphed once again you see,
Providing health and safety to every woman, child, and man.

And what miracle is this,
That secures our freedom bliss,
And ensures all our blessed liberties?

What treasure is it, made by man,
That can do, what no other can,
This creation of our modern technolullogies?

It's the simplest things they say,
That can always save the day,
And it's oh so very true in this case too.

You needn't build a big bomb shelter,
You can avoid the helter skelter.
Listen closely here is what they say to do.

Just duct tape and cover your windows and your door,
With plastic sheeting you can buy at any hardware store.

It's an easy thing to do no matter if you're rich or poor,
And much cleaner than crawling 'neath your desk down on all four.

It's a lesson we've all learned in school, fifty years ago.
When we feared that the idea of droppin' A-bombs would grow.

They've changed the words to suit our times.
Instead of duck and cover rhymes.

Now we just duct tape and cover instead.

It kind of makes you wonder,
Why Gee Dubbya's way down under,
Neath the mountain in his little hidy hole.

When all he needs to do,
Is just follow me or you,
To buy some plastic sheeting and some duct tape by the roll.

Then he could duct tape and cover his windows and his door,
With plastic easily bought from any hardware store.

No need to kiss his butt goodbye,
When missiles fall down from the sky,

When he can duct tape and cover instead.

Subject: SB: The Drunkard King by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:46 AM

The Drunkard King by Amergin

The pitcher's on the bar
The glass is in my hand
The fag is in the ashtray
I'm in that wonderful land
Known as Tir-na-nog
The land of eternal youth
The beer in my belly
Slowly begins to sooth
The warmth rises to my head
I forget the sorrows of the day
As I feel this great uplifting
There's only one thing I can say:

Drunkenness is my only virtue
The pub is my second home
The taps and bottles are my subjects
The barstool is my throne

The band begins to play its jig
Lonesome songs of yearning
As they strike the first chord
The masses begin their churning
As I slowly drink in
The great water of life
I scan this mystic land
It is empty of all strife
As I sit on my drunken throne
The faeries around me prance
My feet stomp with the drums
Longing to join the dance
Suddenly I laugh and yell
So fucking loud and clear
Every head turns toward me
Their ears straining to hear
As the barman sadly tells me
That I cannot stay
But that's alright for me
Tomorrow is another day

Because:

Drunkenness is my only virtue
So, remember when I sing
That the taps and bottle are my subjects
For I am the drunkard king!

Subject: SB: The Downieville Nugget by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:37 AM

The Downieville Nugget by harpgirl

Come gather round people I've a story to tell
About a gambler from Reno that I know so well
In a card game in Reno he bragged he could steal
A nugget of gold in old Downieville

Eleven pounds weighed that nugget
Makin Downieville's name 
A subject of interest
In a thousand card games 

Then a bushwhacker challenged him
To show proof of his claim
Bring the Downieville Nugget
Back here to this game

Oh a gambler loves a challenge
He lives for a thrill
No woman could hold him
With a dare to fulfill

He rode into our city that very next day
And from his bold purpose he could not be swayed
Down into the valley in the old mining town
Tin roofs on the houses shown bright in the sun

We met by the river and he spun his bold tale
He thrilled me with stories till tremblin I fell
Oh a gambler is charmin I fear that I'm right
He takes what he wishes don't put up a fight

He saw that huge nugget in the old courthouse safe
In Judge Downie's chambers that very same night

He showed back in Reno 
One week to the day
Smilin a wide smile the bushwhackers say

Boys I didn't get it, I lied for the thrill
But I got me a lady in old Downieville
I'm gonna get rich boys and straight way go round
To stake my claim on that lady I found

Well the boys had their laugh
But the gambler laughed to
Sayin deal me a hand boys I've gamblin to do

Next spring he went a courtin in Downieville town
It was Judge Downie's daughter
Who finally came round

He married her proper where they met by the shore
Laughin and lovin e'r after and more
Oh a gambler loves a challenge I know awfully well
I'm the old judges's daughter
A gambler myself

Subject: SB: Down On the Border by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:36 AM

Down On the Border by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  I put this one in the Xenaphobia Thread, but it probably sits here just as well.


Down on the border, where do you draw that line?
Well here I can lay down my life for a land that will never be mine
If I was standing on the outside, you wouldn't let me in
It might be my religion or the colour of my skin

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

They're telling you life should be rosy, "ain't you living in your own backyard"?
The stakes are getting higher, time to play that nationalist card
That joker's a wild one, eager to get out of the pack
It ain't so easy, trying to get the bastard back

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Does the fruit really taste better, just because it's home grown?
Why should there be an improvement, when we are ruled by one of our own?
When they come and they tell you. it's time to make a stand
Remember the good and the bad apples, growing on your land

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Whatever country claims you, it's no measure of your worth
You can take no credit, it's just an accident of birth
Why not strive for a union, a federation of states?
Sustained by co-operation, where nations are maintained on hate

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Down On Barky's Farm by Bert
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:25 AM

Down On Barky's Farm by Bert

Chorus 1:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
There are sausages on trees and they're swaying in the breeze 
down on Barky's Farm

We've got cotton sheep and Nylon sheep and polyester sheep 
and they grow the silk pajamas that you wear when you're asleep 
and they graze upon the Astroturf that grows by Barky's Creek 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 2:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
and there's chickens with three legs laying colored Easter Eggs 
down on Barky's Farm

We've got flocks and flocks of variegated porcupines 
Some of them grow toothpicks instead of nasty spines 
and some of them grow corkscrews for opening your wines 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 3:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
To grow donuts we plant rows and rows of Cheerios 
down on Barky's Farm

We've a great big herd of pumpkins, some are big and some are small 
You really ought to join us for the roundup in the fall 
We catch 'em and we brand 'em and we sell 'em from a stall 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 1... All together now! 
Chorus 2... ONE more TIME 
Chorus 3... 

Bert Hansell (2000)

Subject: SB: Donning The Red by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:17 AM

Donning The Red by Amergin

"Dinner is ready," the mom yells out
He sits before his corn meal mush
And pours on the baby formula
Sinking his spoon into the slush
"I don't want this again," he complains
"Eat it or not, that's all we got"
Bemused, he forces it down his throat
As the ladle descends into the crusty pot

Chorus:
But a spark of anger stirs in him
As he loses his faith in the Boss

He jumps up eagerly from his bed
And runs out to the Christmas tree
To find no presents upon the floor
And cries out in tearful pleas
His mom says, "Dad's not working
Be glad you have a roof over your head"
"This house barely keeps out the cold"
"You could be outside, freezing or dead"

Chorus:
And the spark of anger burns brighter
As he loses his faith in God

He sits before the fireplace, gazing
At the ice forming on the window panes
Huddled in his coat and blanket
Seeing the snow on the gravel lane
"Your dad's doing his best for us
The bills are too high, the wages too low"
He shivers and watches kids outside
Playing in the subzero snow

Chorus:
The anger burns into a flame
As he loses faith with the government

Now he stands, grown, watching
Bankers force his family from their home
Wondering what they'll do now
And wherever will he now roam?
"How can you take this house from us?"
The bankers just make jokes and sneer
"Maybe next time you'll pay what you owe"
They all laugh as he drops a tear

Chorus:
The fire of anger burns brighter in him
As he dons the red flag of freedom

Subject: SB: The Dinosaurs . . . by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:16 AM

The Dinosaurs . . . by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments: Here's one I wrote this morning for a thread I started about dinosaurs after going to see Jurassic Park III:


Well you had best be wary
of the Cassowary
with its claw that's reaching for your nuts
And you will wonder whether
underneath those feathers
there's a raptor hungry for your guts.
Well they may say for sure
there's no more dinosaurs,
But you will find they overstate that case -
it's no good being pedantic
when you are feeling frantic
with a dinosaur right in your face.

And my young sister Sue
she had a cockatoo,
it could sing a pretty song indeed,
but if you reached your finger
to that feathered singer,
he knew how to make that finger bleed.
Oh he could sing in chorus,
this young Cockasaurus,
but the motive for his merry screech
was to charm, then slaughter,
and to give no quarter
any fool who came within his reach.

And I once knew a goose,
and someone let her loose,
and she swaggered round and round till dark,
and with her savage hissing,
there was not much missing
to remind us of Jurassic Park.
And when I tell the story
of these birds so gory,
there's a moral there without a doubt,
for if you think at all
you'll know they're not extinct at all -
I think these dinosaurs will see us out.

© Kevin McGrath 23rd July 2001