Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Will Fly
Date: 20 Dec 08 - 07:27 AM

Excellent - I've got a cap AND a weskit - might 'ave a goo...

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Spleen Cringe
Date: 20 Dec 08 - 07:24 AM

Something like this or this would be the sensible answer.

Me, I favour THIS!      









And here he is...

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Will Fly
Date: 20 Dec 08 - 06:56 AM

Nice one, Will! So... will we be seeing it on Youtube? ;-)

Well... I don't know... Do you have suggestions for an appropriate costume - or even just a hat? I think such a performance on The Blessed Tube demands special attire - at least from the waist up.

(YouTube watchers don't know that I always make my videos while nude from the waistband down...)

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Spleen Cringe
Date: 20 Dec 08 - 03:35 AM

Nice one, Will! So... will we be seeing it on Youtube? ;-)

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: The Sandman
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 12:41 PM

or NORFOLKANDGOOD

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Paul Burke
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 11:19 AM

It's Norfolk in use!

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Dave the Gnome
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 11:14 AM

Could I add the Salford Wassail on the back of this please, Spleen? It is the season to be jolly after all...

It has come to mean something different in Salford over the years and the Wassailer has become the Wassailant. Rather than going door to door, or window to window as was more common, to raise money, the Salford Wassailant has now developed a system of Wassailing anyone who passes.

Wassail, Wassail we all want some cash
My giro is late I can't go on the bash
We'll rob some old bird and sell dodgy trees
Score some crack and take plenty of ease*

*The full meaning has, like other such traditions, been lost in the mists of time. Or the smogs of time in this case.

Cheers

DeG

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: VirginiaTam
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 10:59 AM

snerk

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Will Fly
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 10:51 AM

Wondrous! I kneel in awe - and will practice this for gigs in the New Year! glorious addition to the folk tradition.

Will

Subject: Lyr Add: The Norfolk Reed Cutter's Song
From: Spleen Cringe
Date: 19 Dec 08 - 10:44 AM

I have a feeling this isn't traditional, but as it keeps getting alluded to in various threads, here's my Yuletide present to you all.

Apologies for poor quality control and sordid obsessions.

No traditional singers were harmed in the writing of this song.

Sing to the tune of "Poor Murdered Woman".

THE NORFOLK REED CUTTER'S SONG

I am a reed cutter, from Norfolk I come
My days spent in water right up to my bum
When hard at my trade, my enjoyment's complete
From the hair on my chin to the webs on my feet

It's over the dykes, boys, and into the fens
We'll wade through the reeds with the duck and moorhens
We'll hook them and scythe them and bundle them up
With a few of our finger sliced off for good luck

Hear tell of the cutter, Walter Cummaggen
And the fate that befell him one morn in the fen
A great horde of coypus with mouldering breath
Had Walter surrounded and nuzzled to death

They laid out his body and stuck it with reeds
Of various sizes and left him to bleed
The wind whistled through them and softly they played
The opening bars of "The Rambling Blade"

It was old Harry Willis who made us take heed
When he was exposed playing games with his reeds
His crimes were too vile for man to divulge
Close family and beasts of the field were involved

Oh the reeds they are sharp and they cut us like hell
The cuts do turn septic, the fingers do swell
Like eleven fat sausages – ere was it thus
We spend all our evening a-draining the pus

And what must we do with the reeds that we cut
When we take them back to our poor humble huts
Where our poor humble wives wait with buckets of gruel
Oh the reed cutter's lot, it is terrible cruel

We dry out or reeds and we bind them up tight
And it's off to Westminster the very same night
Where there's those who'll pay handsome for our humble store
For the beating of each other's buttocks red raw

So pull down those drawers; grease those cheeks up with lard
Beat them and whack them and wallop them hard
Oh the reed 'gainst the bottom is worth any price
And our humble old trade fuels the national vice