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16 Sep 11 - 08:48 AM (#3224154) Subject: Lyr Req: Lord Randal - Roaring Jelly From: GUEST,Dave Hunt I collect parodies and the other day I started singing the parody of Lord Randal that Roaring Jelly did - but can't remember all of it - anyone got the words please? Starts Where the hell 'av' you been, 'av' you been, 'av' you been Where the hell have you been Lord Randal our son Mind yer bloody business, bloody business, bloody business, Mind yer bloody business Lady Randal our mum Don't talk to yer mother that way, mother that way, mother that way Don't talk to yer mother that way Lord Randal our son Tune as -'You can't put your muck in our dustbin' Dr.Sunshine (Dave Hunt) www.sunshinearts.co.uk |
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16 Sep 11 - 10:01 AM (#3224185) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Lord Randal - Roaring Jelly From: GUEST,Sean O'Shea, Come and get your breakfast,get your breakfast,get your breakfast, Come and get your breakfast,Lord Randal,our son. I don't want me bloody breakfast,me bloody breakfast,me bloody breakfast, I don't want me bloody breakfast,Lady Randal,our mam. You'll get a clip around the earole,around the earole,around the earole, You'll get a clip around the earole,Lord Randal,our son. Then,all these three bits sung at the same time,giving the impression of a family row. |
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16 Sep 11 - 11:02 AM (#3224214) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Lord Randal - Roaring Jelly From: Mick Pearce (MCP) Have a look at this thread: Lyr Req: Lord Randall parody (Roaring Jelly) Mick |
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16 Sep 11 - 07:02 PM (#3224437) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Lord Randal - Roaring Jelly From: GUEST,Dave Hunt Many thanks for the very speedy response - as usual on Mudcat. That's another one for the collection! Ta.... Dave |
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02 Aug 20 - 09:46 PM (#4067069) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Lord Randal (Roaring Jelly) - parody From: keberoxu How about an entirely different parody? Not sure it merits its own thread, after all, and have to put it somewhere. Not my writing -- it's from Mad Magazine. Oh where ha'e ye been, Matt Dillon, my son? Oh where ha'e ye been, my lanky young man? I got shot near Topeka at least sixteen times. Now I'm weary wi' bleeding, and fain wald lie down. Why rode ye so far, Matt Dillon, my son? Topeka's not close, my tin-badged young man. When Sioux warriors pursue me, I go where I'm chased. Now pull out these darned arrows, so I can lie down. Ye fought with the Sioux, Matt Dillon, my son? There's none within miles, my roving young man! When some crooks tried to hang me, I fled the wrong way. Get this rope off my neck now, I fain wald lie down. Why seek out danger, Matt Dillon, my son? Why not stay in Dodge, my foolish young man? I must roam o'er the prairie each third episode 'Tis a clause in my contract. Now let me lie down. But Gunsmoke's filmed here, Matt Dillon, my son! How come you blow town, my mixed-up young man? So I need but appear in two shows out of three: To be frank, Ma, I'm lazy, so let me lie down! July 1972, Vol I, no. 152 |