Subject: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Rusty Dobro Date: 11 Nov 17 - 04:38 AM A holiday, a holiday, and the rain it was falling hard, Lord Donald's wife went into town with her husband's credit card. And when the spending it was done, she went back to where her car was parked, And there she saw little Matty Groves, nicking sat-navs in the dark. 'Come home with me, little Matty Groves, come home with me tonight, And I will do such things to you, as will make your hair turn white.' 'I can't come home, I won't come home, I can't come home for my life, 'Cos I see from your personal number plate you are Lord Donald's wife.' 'What if I am Lord Donald's wife, Lord Donald he has gone, Down to the pub in ......., a'playing his melodeon.' 'I can't come home, I won't come home, I can't come home with you, For I'm due in court in half an hour, for nicking a Subaru.' 'You can come home, you must come home, you can come home today, I'm very good friends with a magistrate, he'll make it go away.' 'I can't come home, 'cos if I did, I'd be no use to you, I've had a quart of Bacardi Breezer, and six tins of Special Brew.' 'You can come home, you must come home, I know it'll be all right, There's nothing much on telly, so you can take all night.' At this a servant standing by began to grow quite vexed, He swore Lord Donald he would know, so he sent him off a text. And when Lord Donald read the news, he began to swear and cuss, He threw his melodeon back in its box, and jumped on the very next bus. And when he came to his own bedroom, he peeped around the door, His lady wife and Matty Groves, still at it on the floor. And then Lord Donald turned him around, and hurried from the room, He came back with his camcorder, with twenty times optical zoom. And when the filming it was done, it was sold to Channel 4, The three of them got stinking rich, so they filmed a dozen more... |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Rusty Dobro Date: 11 Nov 17 - 04:39 AM Oops,sorry, no idea how this got posted twice. It's not that good. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Raggytash Date: 11 Nov 17 - 09:33 AM From the pen of Stanley Accrington, the abridged version of Matty Groves. Matty Groves gets off with this high class bird she takes him home to bed they're at it like hammer and tongues when her husband come home unexpected what the bloody hells going here he sez and stabs Matty in the guts what do you think of your lover boy now he sez but she's cheeky so he chops her head off |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: The Sandman Date: 11 Nov 17 - 09:37 AM not very good parodies, imo. The original is much better, imo. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Raggytash Date: 11 Nov 17 - 09:45 AM Of course it is Dick .......... a bit of humour eh ....... |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Tattie Bogle Date: 11 Nov 17 - 10:20 AM I note that when Fairport Convention do it they stick mainly with the original but then throw in "and how do you like my curtains that I got in IKEA las week"! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: michaelr Date: 11 Nov 17 - 12:26 PM Love it, Rusty! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: The Sandman Date: 11 Nov 17 - 01:18 PM a bit of humour if its funny is good ,but imo it is not funny, only funny peculiar |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Raggytash Date: 11 Nov 17 - 02:45 PM Each to us own ! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: GUEST,Cllr Date: 12 Nov 17 - 02:18 PM The how do you like my curtains comes from the parody masters Fatty Groves (Dick Nudds & Chris Sugden 1987) A holiday, a holiday, and all the people dozed Lord Ormsby's wife went into the town, but everything was closed She couldn't get no shopping done, and so she looked around And there she saw big Fatty Groves a-lying on the ground "Go home, go home, you Fatty Groves, you are a drunken lout; Go home, go home, you Fatty Groves, you shouldn't be let out." "Oh I can't go home, and I won't go home, and I can't go home for my life For the ring off my finger I have lost, I'll be murdered by me wife "Well if I am quite frank with you, your wife is not at home, For she is in my husband's bed, and she is not alone. So as I've nothing else to do - no really not a thing - I might as well come back with you and help you find the ring." A servant who was standing there, just why nobody knows, He swore his cronies they should know before the pub was closed. And when he come to the broad mill stream he did not see the plank And in his hurry to carry the news he fell on his belly and sank. Big Fatty and Lord Ormsby's wife they hunted high and wide, Till Fatty fell upon his bed and she fell by his side. Big Fatty Grives he got up to go and wash his face, When he returned Lady Ormsby's husband lay there in his place. Saying "Well, I like your feather bed and well, I like your sheets, And well, to be frank, I like your wife who lies in my arms asleep. "Stay there, stay there," said Fatty Groves, "I shall not rant and curse For you have got the better of me and I have got the worse." "Stout fellow," said Lady Ormsby's husband, "Taken like a man." But in then come Mrs. Fatty Groves and in amazement stands. Saying "How do you like my feather bed, and how do you like my sheet And how do you like my curtains that I got in the sale last week?" And then up spoke Mrs. Fatty Groves, never heard to speak so cheap, "You told me you didn't like your wife, and now with her you sleep. Lady Ormsby's husband he jumped up and ran right out the door, "I didn't know it was her", he cried, and was never seen no more. Fatty fainted clean away at the closeness of the call, The ladies picked him up, and they leant him against the wall. They leant him up against the wall, and that was a disaster, For Fatty weighed full twenty stone and the wall just lathe and plaster. The wall gave way and Fatty fell, oh Fatty fell outside, And when he came to the broad pavement he fell on his head and he died. "A grave, a grave," the ladies cried "To bury Fatty in, But better you make it extra large, or you won't get him all in." "Now isn't that just typical," these ladies they did say, "The men can be relied upon to spoil a holiday." ------------------------------------------------------------------- Child #81 from the singing of the Kipper Family of Trunch. This is a parody of Fairport Convention's version of "Matty Groves" Cllr |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Tattie Bogle Date: 13 Nov 17 - 07:59 PM Thanks Cllr. I confess to be an enjoyer of parodies, especially those of the Kipper family! Even write some myself. But I know some people don't like 'em. Aye, each to his/her own! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Acorn4 Date: 14 Nov 17 - 03:40 AM Matty Groves was a stupid Pratt, He screwed Lord Barnard's wife, Lord Barnard caught them on the job And so he took his life. That's all you need really innit? |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Mrrzy Date: 14 Nov 17 - 08:22 AM Love the parodies! The short versions reminds me of a Romeo and Juliet poem that does the entire playa in a few lines, ending (spoiler alert!) Then Juliet seized that awful knife and in her bosom stuck it / Let out a most terrific yell, fell down and kicked the bucket. It's in the Forum, oddly enough, here. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: GUEST,Some bloke or other Date: 15 Nov 17 - 03:41 AM A singer, a singer was old Dick Though singing strained his piles He never liked a parody Never in a million Miles Amen & druse |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: GUEST,maltbypicker Date: 01 Sep 21 - 10:28 AM I wrote this version when buttering bread (with a palette knife) and exasperated at the number of cooking shows on the bbc. The double entendres are as thin as filo pastry..... Little Master Chuff Am Em Twas a filming day on the cookery show and the make up girls imposed G Am Em Am That inane grin on Gregg Wallace and more stubble on John Torrode And afterwards Wallace's tasty sous chef she cast her icing about But it was caught by little Master Chuff who gave a 'howzat' shout Come away with me little Master Chuff come off with me tonight Come away with me little Master Chuff and we'll cook til morning light Ok then why not? said little Master Chuff I'll not play hard to get Though the way this song is going I think I might regret it yet She took him back to the fine kitchen and she told him of her plan she wanted his spicy nibbles for hors d'oeuvres followed by his coq au vin That sounds good to me cried Master Chuff for I've also got a thirst And I'm ok doing it on the worktop but can we put these sharp knives away first They pulsed and beat and tumbled and whisked til they were in quite a froth Then at dawn up strode Gregg Wallace who was still grinning in his wrath How do you like my feathered goose and how do you like my beef And how do you like my tasty sous chef who braises your carrot so sweet? Waltzing off with my pretty sous chef you arrogant young pup Souffle to the death its me or you get your pudding spoon out and man up You must be joking said Master Chuff I'll not souffle for my life For you have two brand new Kenwood Chefs and I not a palette knife Its true I have two brand new KCs that cost the licence payers some beans But you shall have the Ferrari Red one and I the British Racing Green And you shall make a tall souffle to rise as high as you can And I shall make a taller one and it'll make yours look like a flan Little Master Chuff he rose up and at Wallace his shoe did throw Saying what's the point its obvious the prettiest contestant wins the show Wallace grinned and said of course and blew his sous chef a kiss He took a bite out of Master Chuff's shoe and said Cooking doesn't get tougher than this |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: John C. Bunnell Date: 01 Sep 21 - 08:40 PM I am somehow not at all surprised that there are a lot of parodies of this song. That said, the one I've heard most often in my particular orbit is none of these, but rather the talking-blues version by master filk/folk artist Frank Hayes: Like A Lamb to the Slaughter (studio version) (live version) One high, one holy holiday, on the first day of the year, Little Matty Groves to church did go, some holy words to hear. When in came old Lord Arnold's wife, and she looked at him and said, "Come here often? What's your sign?" And off they went to bed. In the interests of brevity, I'll omit some of the more disposable parts of the song, like the section where they get undressed... ...all forty-seven verses of it. Now old Lord Arnold he had a page; when he saw what they had done, He said, "I'd better tell the boss!" and he began to run! He ran through the briars and he ran through the brambles, Ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go, Ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch him, Down the Mississippi to the-- You get the idea. Next morning the happy lovers awoke, took one look at who was standing at the foot of the bed, and said, "Ohhhhhhhhh, shit!" "Rrrise oop, rrrise oop noo, Matty Grrroves, put yuir clo'es on quick's ye can, Ne'er let it be said that in a' Scotland I slew a naked man! And ye shall have the be'er sworrrd, and I shall have the worrrst, And I shall strrrike the second blow, for ye shall strike the firrrst!" Stupid Scottish twit. Again, in the interests of brevity, I will omit the part where Matty, for perfectly obvious reasons, takes his own sweet time about getting dressed again... ...all forty-seven verses of it. Now the first blow little Matty struck, it hurt Lord Arnold sore; The second blow Lord Arnold struck, little Matty stood no more. Lord Arnold felt about himself, to see where he'd been cut: He looked, and found to his surprise he'd lost his -- you-know-what. And he said "Ooohhhh, shit!" Now if he hadn't let Matty Groves strike first he'd never have lost his dong, And if she hadn't let the pageboy know you'd never have heard this song. And now they sit at home a lot, becoming nervous wrecks, Which goes to show discretion is the better part of sex. Moral of this story? Be good. If you can't be good, be careful. And if you can't be careful -- try and keep it down to five or six verses, huh? |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Joe_F Date: 02 Sep 21 - 10:03 PM LYR ADD: Manly Man Matty Groves by Leslie Fish (1993) Oh, Matty Groves was a manly man, and a man among men was he. He shacked up with Lord Arlen's wife on a Sunday morning spree. Lord Arlen was a manly man, as ever voiced a curse. He learned that Matty screwed his wife, and swore to screw him worse. Matty Groves was a manly man, with balls to split his pants, sirs. When caught in bed with Arlen's wife, he gave him snappy answers. Lord Arlen had more balls than that, let Matty put his clothes on, Gave him a sword and one free chance to lay a couple blows on. But Matty had more balls than brains; he hit Lord Arlen square Instead of taking out a leg and scamp'ring out of there. Lord Arlen, he had mighty balls---but smaller than his head. He took the cut, and counter-cut, and Matty wound up dead. Now where was Arlen's wife through this? She stayed beneath the covers, She watched the fight, and did her nails, while Arlen killed her lover. She never thought to run and hide, nor did she make excuses, She said the one thing guaranteed to make Arlen blow his fuses. She got herself and Matty killed by being a stupid hen--- But what else but a brainless slut would go for Manly Men? |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Matty Groves (parody) From: Phil Edwards Date: 03 Sep 21 - 01:02 PM I haven't seen the version with this memorable verse: Then it fell out upon a day As oftentimes before But Matty tucked it in again And hoped that no one saw |
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