Lyr/Chords Req: Irish Ballad / Rickity Tickity Tin

11 Sep 99 - 06:12 PM (#113475)
Subject: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: poet

Hi Folkies
Any one got the lyrics to this BLACK COMEDY song all I can remember from it is:-

she put them in a pot for a stew
and invited the neighbours in
ours in ours in
and invited the neighbours in


and lying she knew was a sin
a sin, a sin,
and lying she knew was a sin


Help please

Graham Hyett(Guernsey)

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11 Sep 99 - 06:29 PM (#113476)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Rickety Tickety Tin
From: Joe Offer

Hi, Graham - I think the official name of Tom Lehrer's classic is The Irish Ballad (click).

The chords in the Rise Up Singing songbook aren't always the best, but here's what they have:

Dm - DmGm Dm / Gm Dm DmC Dm /
DmGm DmGm / DmC Dm C / DmC Dm

-Joe Offer-

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11 Sep 99 - 07:23 PM (#113491)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: val sommerville

about a maid i'll sing a song say rickety etc. about a maid I'll sing a song a maid who did her family wrong not only did she do them wrong she did every one of them in in in she did every one of them in

one evening in a fit of pique say rickety etc one evening in a fit of pique she threw her father in the creek the water tasted bad for a week and they had to make do with gin gin gin they had to make do with gin

her mother she could never stand say ricety etc her mother she could never stand and so an arsenic soup she planned her mother died with her spoon in her hand and her face ina terrible grin grin grin her face in a terrible grin (know rest will send when more time)

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11 Sep 99 - 07:42 PM (#113495)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: Joe Offer

Hi, Val - Welcome to the 'Cat. Thanks for typing all that, but if you follow the link I posted in the previous message (or here), you'll see that we've already got the song in our database. Generally we try not to post lyrics that are already here, unless we have major variations on what's already in the database. I'm sure you'll find as time goes on that you know a lot of songs you can contribute that aren't in the database.
-Joe offer-

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12 Sep 99 - 08:04 AM (#113577)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: poet

Bloody Marvellous! thank you very much,I'll have that up and ready for a Christmas gig I'm doing.

Thanks again. & so quick too.

Graham Hyett(Guernsey)

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13 Sep 99 - 11:29 AM (#113850)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: Allan C.

Many of Tom Lehrer's best works are included on this marvelous site: Demented Lyrics

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13 Sep 99 - 11:29 PM (#114041)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: Susan A-R

There is also a great songbook of his stuff (pretty much everything) called Too Many Songs by Tom Lehrer and Not enough drawings by . . . It's worth getting!!

Susan

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31 Jan 00 - 11:54 PM (#171471)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: GUEST,Noah Pevar

Whats wrong with the chords in Rise up singing Joe? Noah Pevar

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01 Feb 00 - 06:21 PM (#171886)
Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Ricketty Ticketty Tin
From: Joe Offer

Hi, Noah - I'm not a guitarist, but I frequently hear guitarists complain about the chords in Rise Up Singing. They say the chords often just don't fit the tune. Trouble is, what our song circle guitarists come up with, is often worse. So, who's to say?
-Joe Offer, who prefers to sing a cappella-

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12 Sep 04 - 06:11 PM (#1270424)
Subject: Lyr Add: THE IRISH BALLAD (Tom Lehrer)
From: GUEST,olivia

THE IRISH BALLAD
(Tom Lehrer)
As recorded by Tom Lehrer on "Revisited" (1960)

1. About a maid I'll sing a song.
Sing rickety tickety tin.
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who didn't have her family long.
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did every one of them in, them in,
She did every one of them in.

2. One morning in a fit of pique,
Sing rickety tickety tin,
One morning in a fit of pique,
She drowned her father in the creek.
The water tasted bad for a week,
And we had to make do with gin, with gin,
We had to make do with gin.

3. Her mother she could never stand.
Sing rickety tickety tin.
Her mother she could never stand,
And so a cyanide soup she planned.
The mother died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin,
Her face in a hideous grin.

4. She set her sister's hair on fire.
Rickety tickety tin.
She set her sister's hair on fire,
And as the smoke and flame rose higher,
Danced around the funeral pyre,
Playing a violin, -olin,
Playing a violin.

5. She weighted her brother down with stones.
Rickety tickety tin.
She weighted her brother down with stones
And sent him off to Davy Jones.
All they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin.

6. One day when she had nothing to do,
Sing rickety tickety tin,
One day when she had nothing to do,
She cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an Irish stew
And invited the neighbors in, -bors in,
Invited the neighbors in.

7. And when at last the police came by,
Sing rickety tickety tin,
And when at last the police came by,
Her little pranks she did not deny.
To do so she would have had to lie,
And lying she knew was a sin, a sin,
Lying she knew was a sin.

8. My tragic tale I won't prolong.
Rickety tickety tin.
My tragic tale I won't prolong,
And if you did not enjoy my song,
You've yourselves to blame if it's too long.
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin.

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01 Jan 06 - 02:59 AM (#1638616)
Subject: Lyr Add: THE IRISH BALLAD (Tom Lehrer)
From: GUEST,[e-mail]

I don't have the music but here are the lyrics:

About a maid I'll sing a song,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
About a maid I'll sing a song,
Who didn't have her family long,
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did everyone of them in, them in,
She did everyone of them in.

One morning in a fit of pique,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
One morning in a fit of pique,
She drowned her father in the creek,
The water tasted bad for a week,
And they had to make do with gin, with gin,
They had to make do with gin.

Her mother she could never stand,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
Her mother she could never stand,
so a cyanide soup she planned,
Her mother did with the spoon in her hand,
And her face in a hidious grin, a grin,
Her face in a hidious grin.

She set her sister's hair on fire,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
She set her sister's hair on fire,
And as the smoke and flame rose higher,
She danced around the funeral pyre,
Playing the violin, oilin,
Playing the violin.

She weighted her brother down with stones,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
She weighted her brother down with stones,
And sent him off to Davy Jones,
All they ever found were some bones,
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin.

One day when she had nothing to do,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
One day when she had nothing to do,
She cut her little brother in two,
And served him up in an Irish stew,
And invited the neighbors in, bors in,
Invited the neighbors in.

And when at last the police came by,
Sing ricketty, ticketty tin,
And when at last the police came by,
Her little pranks she did not deny,
For to do so she would have had to lie,
And lying, she knew, was a sin, as sin,
Lying she knew was a sin.

My tragic tale I won't prolong,
Sing ricketty ticketty tin,
My tragic tale I won't prolong,
And if you do not enjoy my song,
You've yourselves to blame if it's too long,
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin.

SB

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