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Origins: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse

DigiTrad:
CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE WORKHOUSE
WORKHOUSE BOY


Related threads:
Lyr Req: Christmas in the Workhouse (39)
Lyr Req: It's Christmas in the Workhouse (not (15)
Lyr Req: Christmas Day in the Workhouse (36)
Lyr Req: Christmas Day in the Workhouse (14)
Lyr Add: Workhouse Boy (29)
Lyr Req: Christmas in the Workhouse Canadian (3)


Wotcha 23 Nov 98 - 12:26 AM
Steve Parkes 23 Nov 98 - 06:00 AM
Barbara 23 Nov 98 - 09:08 AM
23 Nov 98 - 11:16 AM
Barbara 23 Nov 98 - 03:08 PM
Bobby Bob, Ellan Vannin 24 Nov 98 - 02:14 PM
John in Brisbane 24 Nov 98 - 07:06 PM
Steve Parkes 25 Nov 98 - 03:47 AM
Steve Parkes 30 Nov 98 - 07:51 AM
John in Brisbane 30 Nov 98 - 06:36 PM
Steve Parkes 01 Dec 98 - 11:18 AM
RoyH (Burl) 05 Dec 99 - 03:10 PM
Dicho (Frank Staplin) 18 Jan 02 - 01:18 PM
CRANKY YANKEE 19 Jan 02 - 12:56 AM
CRANKY YANKEE 19 Jan 02 - 01:04 AM
Dicho (Frank Staplin) 19 Jan 02 - 08:17 PM
Hrothgar 20 Jan 02 - 04:00 AM
John in Brisbane 11 Jul 04 - 09:37 AM
Billy the Bus 11 Jul 04 - 09:53 AM
John in Brisbane 11 Jul 04 - 10:04 AM
freda underhill 11 Jul 04 - 11:54 AM
katlaughing 11 Jul 04 - 03:53 PM
John in Brisbane 12 Jul 04 - 06:53 AM
GUEST,Nigel in Stockton on Tees 10 May 09 - 08:58 AM
Charley Noble 10 May 09 - 12:03 PM
GUEST 26 Feb 13 - 07:42 AM
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Subject: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Wotcha
Date: 23 Nov 98 - 12:26 AM

Looking for information on the origins, history etc of the following WWI song (lifted from "Oh What a Lovely War!"):

It was Christmas DAy in the Cookhouse
The happiest day of the year.
Men's hearts were fully of gladness
And their bellies full of beer.
When Up old Private Shorthouse,
His face as bold as brass,
Saying we don't want your Christmas Pud,
You can stick it up your...[Chorus}Tidings of Comfort and Joy ...

It was Christmas Day in the Harem,
The eunuchs were standing round,
And hundreds of beautiful women,
Were stretched out on the ground.
When in comes the Bulbat (??) sultan
And gazes on his mighty halls,
Saying what do you want for Christmas Boys?
And the eunuchs answer ... [chorus} Tidings of Comfort...


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Steve Parkes
Date: 23 Nov 98 - 06:00 AM

Barrie Roberts of Walsall, England, wrote the following (many, many years ago!):

It was Christmas day in the hospital, and the cold bare walls were hung
With merry yuletide trimmings, all the carols had been sung,
When Matron came to the Men's Ward door with a voice so loud and clear
To announce a royal visitor to bring them Christmas --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

The princess stood in the doorway, tiara on her head,
Dispensing Christmas goodwill as she moved from bed to bed.
She asked each bloke his troubles as she moved on down the halls,
Till she came to the bed of a bloke who said he'd got boils upon his --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

The probationers all giggled and Matron's face was red
As she dragged Her Royal Highness away from the patient's bed.
"Who served him sherry trifle and started off his frolics?
When I get back I'll give him worse than boils upon his" --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

It was midnight in the ward that night, and not a patient stirred,
When Matron cmae to the bedside of the man who'd used that word.
She stripps the blankets from him, and then on him she starts:
"How dare you talk to a royal princess about your boily" --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

"Now if ever again we're visited by one of the royal select
And they ask about your illness, you just show 'em a bit of respect.
Remember your blooming manners and don't make us a spectacle -
Tell 'em they're on your back or your legs, but not upon your" --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

[spoken] A year passed …

It was Christmas on the wards once more, and the place was full of cheer:
Once more a royal visitor - the queen herself was here!
Her Majesty swept through the wards to the merry snap! of crackers,
Till she came to the bed of the bloke who'd said he'd got boils upon his --
Tidings of comfort and joy!

The patient grew embarrassed, he squirmed in grief and woe.
Then inspiration struck, and he cried, "Boils - on me toe!".
Her majest looked most upset, "Oh dear", she said, "oh dear!
They must have spread all up your leg since my sister came last year!"



Non-British Mudcatters may need help with the missing words: I'm sure some less delicate fellow Brit can oblige!

Steve.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Barbara
Date: 23 Nov 98 - 09:08 AM

Sometime in the last six months, we had a thread on this topic, with several variations of the theme and the original version this song, but I'm not finding it in the forum search. Anyone else find it?
Blessings,
Barbara


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From:
Date: 23 Nov 98 - 11:16 AM

Maybe it was this thread!
*Christmas in the Workhouse*
a forum search for [christmas]
will bring up over 400 posts


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Barbara
Date: 23 Nov 98 - 03:08 PM

Workhouse! I tried 'Cookhouse' and 'Poorhouse' and again with spaces, but I couldn't remember the word! (Knew better than to try 'Christmas') Thanks, nameless with a better memory.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Bobby Bob, Ellan Vannin
Date: 24 Nov 98 - 02:14 PM

Somehow this got into a thread some time ago - it was all to do with san fairy ann. I mentioned Billy Bennet's Budgets, which were monologues by Billy Bennet, a comedian who was described as "Almost a Gentleman". The humour was fairly gentle. There are recordings of him, and his Budgets were published as well. Unfortunately, I have neither, but my friend Big John does. If he doesn't spot this, as a regular Mudcatter, perhaps I can get the words off him.

Yours rather ramblingly,

Bobby Bob


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: John in Brisbane
Date: 24 Nov 98 - 07:06 PM

Just a wee recollection. I recall a 78 record from the 20's or 30's which was a monologue in an English accent. It could have been Australian as we sounded very British until the advent of TV. There was a line in it which tickled me as a kid "And they served a sheep's head with the eyes in, because it had to see them through the week".

Regards John


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Steve Parkes
Date: 25 Nov 98 - 03:47 AM

This is as much as I can remember of Billy Bennett's "Christmas day in the cookhouse". When I get home at the weekend I'll look it up in my book of monologues and post the rest. I'll post the details of the book as well.

Steve


It was Christmas day in the cookhouse,
and the place was neat and tidy.
The soldiers were eating their hot-cross buns -
I'm a liar, that was Good Friday!
[…]


At one o'clock "dinner up" sounded;
the sight made an old soldier blush:
They were dishing out Guinness for nothing,
and fifteen got killed in the crush!
Potatoes were cooked in their jackets,
and carrots in pants - how unique!
A sheep's head was cooked with the eyes in,
as it had to see them through the week!


Then in came the old sergeant-major,
he'd walked all the way from his billet;
His chest was turned out, his toes were turned in,
with his head back in case he'd spill it.
He wished all the troops "merry Christmas!",
including the orderly man;
Some said, "Good old sergeant-major!",
and other said "San fairy-ann".


Then up spoke one ancient warrior,
his whiskers a nest for the sparrows -
The old man had first joined the army
when the soldiers had used bows and arrows -
His grey eyes were wildly flashing,
as he threw down his pudding and cursed:
"You dare to wish me 'merry Christmas'?
You just hear my story first.


[…]
It was springtime in the Rockies,
so it must be the same outside.
We asked for some Christmas dinner;
you gave us pease pudding and pork.
My poor wife went to the infirmary
with a pain in her Belle of New York.


You're the man who stopped bacon from shrinking
by making the cook fry in Lux,
And you wound up the cuckoo-clock backwards,
o now it goes 'oo' 'fore it cucks!

So bless you and blast you and b - low you;
you just take these curses from me:
May your wife give you nothing for dinner,
and then warm it up for your tea;
[…]

May whatever you eat forever repeat,
be it fish, flesh or fowl or horse-doovers;
May bluebottles and flies descend from the skies
and use your bald head for manouevres;
And now that I've told you my story,
I'll walk by myself to the gate.
And as for your old Christmas pudden,
stick that - on the next fellow's plate!


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Steve Parkes
Date: 30 Nov 98 - 07:51 AM

Found it! Here's the full text:

'Twas Christmas day in the cookhouse, and the place was neat and tidy.
The soldiers were eating their hot-cross buns - I'm a liar, that was Good Friday!
In the oven a turkey was sizzling and to make it look posh, I suppose,
They fetched the battallon baraber, to shingle its parson's nose!

Potatoes were cooked in their jackets, and carrots in pants - how unique!
A sheep's head was cooked with the eyes in - it had to see them through the week!
At one o'clock "dinner up" sounded; the sight made an old soldier blush:
They were dishing out Guinness for nothing, and fifteen got killed in the crush!

A jazz band played in the mess-room, a fine lot of messers, it's true,
We told them to go and play Ludo, and they all answered "Fishcakes to you!"
In came the old sergeant-major, he'd walked all the way from his billet;
His chest was turned out, his toes were turned in, with his head back in case he'd spill it.

He wished all the troops "merry Christmas!", including the orderly man;
Some said, "Good old sergeant-major!", and other said "San fairy-ann".
Then up spoke one ancient warrior, his whiskers a nest for the sparrows -
The old man had first joined the army when the soldiers had used bows and arrows -

His grey eyes were flashing with anger, as he threw down his pudding and cursed:
"You dare to wish me 'merry Christmas'? You just hear my story first.
Ten years ago, as the crow flies, I came here with my darling bride,
It was springtime in the Rockies, so it must be the same outside.

We asked for some Christmas dinner; you gave us pease pudding and pork.
My poor wife went to the infirmary with a pain in her Belle of New York.
You're the man who stopped bacon from shrinking by making the cook fry in Lux,
And you wound up the cuckoo-clock backwards, so now it goes 'oo' 'fore it cucks!

So thank you and bless you and b - low you; you just take these curses from me:
May your wife give you nothing for dinner, and then warm it up for your tea;
Whatever you eat , may it always repeat, be it soup, fish, entree or horse-doovers;
May bluebottles and flies descend from the skies and use your bald head for manouevres;

May the patent expire on your evening dress shoes, may your Marcel waives all come uncurled,
May your flannel shirt shrink up the back of your neck and expose your deceit to the world!
And now that I've told you my story, I'll walk by myself to the gate.
And as for your old Christmas pudden, stick that - on the next fellow's plate!"t

It's in a book called The Book of Comic and Dramatic Monologues, compiled & edited by Michael Marshall & published by Elm Tree Books / Hamish Hamilton, London, England - ISBN 0-241-10738-5 or 0-241-10670-2.

There, Steve


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: John in Brisbane
Date: 30 Nov 98 - 06:36 PM

Absolutely marvellous! That's the one, exactly as I recall it. Was the narrator a Pom?

Regards
John


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Steve Parkes
Date: 01 Dec 98 - 11:18 AM

John, the narrator (on the original record) was no less than Billy Bennett ("almost a gentleman") himself, an Englishman and proud of it! Does "Pom" specifically mean English, by the way, or any Brit?

Oh, I think Roy Hudd (another Pom) may have recorde it as well. I've performed it once or twice, but you won't have heard it unless you've been to Walsall.

Steve


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: RoyH (Burl)
Date: 05 Dec 99 - 03:10 PM

There is a marvellous album by Billy Bennet on a Topic vinyl circa 1978. "Almost A Gentleman", 'Songs and Recitations by the great Music hall comedian Billy Bennett' Topic 12T387. It contains "Christmas Day in the Cookhouse" and other gems as "The Green Tie on The Little Yellow Dog", and "Please Let Me Sleep On Your Doorstep Tonight". He was born in 1887 in Glasgow, but grew up in Liverpool. His father was a popular comedian in the early 1900's. Billy was a true original. Other people did monologues, but none like him. a reviewer called him "a genius of nonsense' His humour was surreal before anybody knew the word. WE NEED MORE BILLY BENNETT'S. Or at least a B.Bennett revival. Bob Davenport used to feature a Bennett poem or two. We need more. Chase up that album and give yourself a genuine treat. By the way, nice to see Barrie Roberts mentioned in this thread. I've not seen or heard of him for years. Last time was at the old Walsall folk club in the seventies.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Dicho (Frank Staplin)
Date: 18 Jan 02 - 01:18 PM

Christmas long over (start counting the days to the next one now!) but searching Christmas carols on the internet, I found the "Christmas in the Cookhouse" midi on the City of Bremem (Germany) Xmas website, with the tune, "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen." God rest... is not listed.
Email postcards with selected midi were available to send out. I hope the service will be available for this coming Christmas.
www.hansestadt-bremen.de/postcard/xmas2/


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: CRANKY YANKEE
Date: 19 Jan 02 - 12:56 AM

CHRISTMAS IN THE WERKHOUSE
(words by ????) ( no melody, , should be recited as a poem, with a London Accent)

It were Christmas in the work'ouse, the best time of the year
All them paupers, they was 'appy, they was full O' Christmas Cheer.
And the Master too was 'Appy as 'e strode down dismal 'alls
And he wished them, "Merry Christmas"
And all them paupers answered, "Balls"
This made the Master angry and he swore by all the Gods,
"You'll get no Christmas puddin'Y' lousy lot of Sods
Then up spoke a war scarred veteran, who'd stormed the Khyber pass,
You can take your Christmas Puddin' an' shove it up your ass.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: CRANKY YANKEE
Date: 19 Jan 02 - 01:04 AM

Christmass in the harem and al them Eunichs was standin round
and some four and twenty maidens was lyin' al around
When in came the bald fat Sultan from out of his marble halls,sayin', "What do you want for Christmas lads and all them eunuchs answered, "Blls


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Dicho (Frank Staplin)
Date: 19 Jan 02 - 08:17 PM

Cranky, the complete Christmas day in the Workhouse is in the Forum, Just For You
Let's see you put all of it into Lunnonspeak.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Hrothgar
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 04:00 AM

Steve

In general usage, "Pom" does usually apply to an Englishman. However, referring to the English cricket team as "Poms" does cause some confusion.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: John in Brisbane
Date: 11 Jul 04 - 09:37 AM

Stumbled across a site known as "Make 'Em Laugh" Here. It contains a large number of scripts by MARRIOTT EDGAR, STANLEY HOLLOWAY, BILLY BENNETT and many other men and women.

Here's a classic that's probably been posted before:



 
A SURREALIST ALPHABET
performed by
Clapham and Dwyer


"Hello, Uncle Charlie... and what have you got for the kiddies, this afternoon?"
"Hello, Uncle Willie... well I've got cakes and some porridge and..."
"No, no... what have you got in the way of entertainment?"
"Oh!... I've got a new alphabet."
"A new alphabet?"
"A brand new alphabet... it's a surreal-al-al-al-ist alphabet."
"A what?"
"Don't you know what surreal-al-al-al-ism is?"
"Oh!... surrealism!... Something different!"
"That's it!... instead of 'A for apple', 'B for boy' and 'C for cat'..."
"Ah!... you're going to be changing all that!"
"Yes, I'm going to be all new."
"May we try it?"
"We'll try it now, shall we?"
"Off we go, then."

A for 'orses (Hay for Horses)
B for Mutton (Beef or mutton)
C for th' islanders (Seaforth islanders)
D for ential (Differential)
E for Adam (Eve for Adam)
F for vessence (Effervesence)
G for police (Chief of police)
H for respect (Have respect)
I for novello (Ivor Novello)
J for orange (Jaffa orange)
K for ancis (Kay Francis)
L for leather (Hell for leather)
M for sis (Emphasis)
N for lope (Envelope)
O for the garden wall (Over the garden wall)
P for relief (Pee for relief)
Q for music (Cue for music)
R for mo ('Arf a mo)
S for you (it's for you)
T for 2 (Tea for two)
U for films
V for la France (Viva la France)
W for a fiver (Double you for a fiver)
X for breakfast (Eggs for breakfast)
Y for God's sake (Why, for God's sake)
Z for breezes (Zephyr breezes)

And a few alternatives...
C for miles (See for Miles)
E for ning Standard (Evening Standard)
E for brick ('Eave a brick)
O for the wings of a dove
Q for a bus (Queue for a bus)
R for Askey (Arthur Askey)
S for me to know and you to find out (That's for me to know etc.)
T for biting (Teeth for biting)
V for L'Espana (Viva L' Espana)
Y for mistress (Wife or Mistress)

Regards, John


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Billy the Bus
Date: 11 Jul 04 - 09:53 AM

T'was Xmas Day in the workhouse,
The happiest day of the year,
The workers hearts were full of fun,
And their bellies were full of beer....

--------------------
T'was Xmas day in the workhouse,
The Beadle saw something amiss,
The workers hearts were full of fun,
But their bellie were ful of p###
--------------------------
Or something - Sam

Mumble.... I'll try to remember the 'Outhouse' virgins


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: John in Brisbane
Date: 11 Jul 04 - 10:04 AM

The flipside of the Billy Bennett version of Christmas Day in the Cookhouse was this one:

PLEASE LET ME SLEEP ON YOUR DOORSTEP, TONIGHT.
by Bob Weston and Bert Lee (1930)
performed by Billy Bennett


'Twas Christmas Eve at midnight
And a tramp with haggard face
Was knocking at the door
Of a rich millionaire's palace.
The rich man in pyjamas
Trimmed with gold and costly fur
Said, 'What are you a-wanting of?
The tramp replied, 'Dear sir,
Please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight,
I'm homeless and cold and the snow's falling white,
The fire through your keyhole looks cosy and bright,
So please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight.'
The rich man said, 'How dare you?'
In a manner cold and chill
And from his freezing nose
He proudly wiped an icicle.
That night while his rich brother
slept on silk sheets trimmed with lace
The poor man slept and then the snowflakes fell
On his cold face.
(SUNG CHORUS)
'Please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight,
I'm homeless and cold and the snow's falling white,
The fire through your keyhole looks cosy and bright,
So please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight.'

The rich man called a constable and said,
'Remove this man.'
He shone his lamp - the rich man cried,
'Why it's my brother Dan!
You want to sleep upon my doorstep,
You my brother Fred,
You shall sleep on my doorstep
I didn't know you when yer said,

"Please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight,
I'm homeless and cold and the snow's falling white,
The fire through your keyhole looks cosy and bright,
So please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight."

The rich man caught pneumonia
Through standing in the cold
And soon at heavens pearly gates
He claimed his wings of gold.
The angel to the rich man said,
'You can't come in, oh no.'
The rich man said,'Well as it's late
and they're full up below,

Please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight,
I'm homeless and cold and the snow's falling white,
The fire through your keyhole looks cosy and bright,
So please let me sleep on your doorstep tonight.'

Cheers, John


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Chookhouse
From: freda underhill
Date: 11 Jul 04 - 11:54 AM

'Twas Christmas day in the chookhouse, and the chooks had been fattened a treat
The men were out back, playing cricket , and the air was a shimmerin' with heat
In the oven a turkey was sizzling, crammed with old breadcrumbs n stuff,
And mum on her feet in the Aussie heat, and Cheryl was up the duff.

And Dad was singing in the kitchen, Red Sails in the Sunset and more
We told him to go to the chookhouse, and to yodel til the chooks all snore
For dad's singing was rumoured hypnotic; twas said it would send you to sleep
For whenever he warbled old grannie, passed out in the afternoon heat

At one o'clock "Come an Get It" screamed mum from the back of the yard
While Uncle Ted and his mates were gambling, and Ted laid the winning card
The spuds were all crispy and fluffy, and the onions were sizzling sweet!
The pudding was boiling in calico, while the plonk was aflowing a treat

we all sat round, joking and whispering, while mum laid out the turkey with style
Dad carved up each slice as we fidgeted, Uncle Ted with some drool on his dial
Then up spoke old grannie, quite loudly, (she was deaf we all knew in one ear)
Saying this year there's going to be changes – and she skolled a full schooner of beer.

Her old grey eyes flashing with anger, as she looked with contempt and then cursed:
"You dare to wish me 'merry Christmas'? You just hear my story first.
Sixty years ago, in the summer, I came here an innocent bride,
With your old grandpa Kevin, I thought it was heaven, but within ten tough long years he had died.

For fifty sad years I've suffered, through bushfires, through floods and through drought
She eyed off old Ted, leaned across to his head, and gave the poor bastard a clout.

Then grannie stood up at the table, as we sat there, all raising our glass
The carving knife high, she saluted the sky, and sliced off the turkey's arse.
I never did like that old parson, his nose will go down a real treat
With a cunning quite perky, she savaged the turkey, and slipped off in the evening heat.

You can all go to buggery, you bastards, while you're at it you can take uncle Ted
Then old grannie turned back, and she farted, then hobbled off slowly to bed.


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Subject: RE: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: katlaughing
Date: 11 Jul 04 - 03:53 PM

Damn good to see you, Billy the Bus!!


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Subject: Tune Add: PLEASE LET ME SLEEP ON YOUR DOORSTEP...
From: John in Brisbane
Date: 12 Jul 04 - 06:53 AM

And for those people who've been waiting breathlessly for the tune to 'PLEASE LET ME SLEEP ON YOUR DOORSTEP TONIGHT', here's the tune in ABC Notation. I've added two further harmony parts for any schmaltzy crooners out there.

X:1
T:Oh Please Let Me Sleep On Your Doorstop Tonight
%%MIDI voice 1 instrument=1
Q: 1/4=140
L:1/4
M:3/4
K:C
V:1 clef=TREBLE
|"C"G _G F|E _E =E|G F B,|"G7"D2 G|
w: Please let me sleep on your door- step to night, I'm
B A G|F D E|F E _E|"C"E2 G|
w: home- less and cold and the snow's fall- ing white, The
G _G F|E _E =E|G F B,|"G7"D2 G|
w: fire through your key- hole looks co- sy and bright, So
B A G|F D E|F D B,|"C"C2 z|
w: please let me sleep on your door- step to- night.
V:2 clef=TREBLE
%%MIDI voice 2 instrument=70
|c B A|G G G|c A D|G2 B|
d c B|G F G|G G G|G2 c|
c B A|G G G|c A D|F2 B|
d c B|G F G|G F D|E2 z|
V:3 clef=TREBLE
%%MIDI voice 3 instrument=89
|E D D|C B, B,|E D G,|B,2 F|
G F F|D B, C|D C B,|C2 E|
E D D|C B, B,|E D G,|B,2 F|
G F F|D B, C|D B, G,|G,2 z|

Regards, John


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Subject: RE: Origins: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: GUEST,Nigel in Stockton on Tees
Date: 10 May 09 - 08:58 AM

Was Christmas day in the Workhouse when the pudding came on view.
The Currants they where many, the Raisens they where few.
Up got an old time warrior who'd thought in the Khyber pass, "I don't want no Christmas pudding, so shove it up your Ass".
This soon aroused the workhouse master, who swore by all the Gods, "You won't get no Christmas pudding, you dirty rotten Sods".


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Subject: RE: Origins: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: Charley Noble
Date: 10 May 09 - 12:03 PM

Nigel-

Shouldn't that 3rd line read:

Up got an old time warrior who'd FOUGHT in the Khyber pass.,

Cheerily,
Charley Noble


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Subject: RE: Origins: Christmas Day in the Cookhouse
From: GUEST
Date: 26 Feb 13 - 07:42 AM

That last line should be

"They must have spread all DOWN your leg since my sister came last year"

A small change, but crucial...


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