THE BASTARD KING OF ENGLAND
-attributed to Rudyard Kipling, but probably not!
Oh the mistrels sing of an English King of many long years ago
who ruled his Land with an iron hand tho his morals were weak and low
his only outer garment was a dirty yellow shirt
with which he served to hide his hide, but he couldn't hide the dirt
He was dirty, and lousy, and full of fleas
but a Royal Tool hung to his knees
God bless the Bastard King of England!
Now the Queen of Spain was an amourous Jane, a lascivious wench was she
who heard about the prowess of this King from over the sea
so she sent a Royal Message by a Royal Messenger
to ask the King of England to spend the night with her
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
but he kept his women by twos and threes....
God Bless the Bastard King of England!
When Philip of France heard of this chance, he swore before his Court
"The Queen prefers my rival just because mine's...somewhat short."
So he sent the Count of Zippety-Zap
to give to the Queen a Dose of Clap
to pass it on to the Bastard King of England!
When the King of England heard the news, he cursed the Gallic farce
and he up and swore by the Royal Whore he'd have the Frenchman's arse
So he offered half his Kingdom, and a piece of Queen Hortense
To any Royal Subject who'd undo the King of France
So the brave young Duke of Buckingham went instantly to France
He swore he was a fruitier; the King took down his pants.
So in front of the throng he slipped on a thong
and jumped on his horse and he galloped along
dragging the Frenchman back to Merrie England!
When the King of England saw the sight he fainted dead on the floor,
for during the ride his rival's hide had stretched...a yard...or more!
and all the girls of England came down to London Town
and shouted round the battlements "To hell with the British Crown!"
So Philip of France usurped the Throne
his scepter was his Royal Bone
with which he bitched the Bastard King of England!
As I was sittin by the fire
talking to O'Riley's daughter
suddenly a thought came into my head:
I'd like to shag O'Riley's daughter
(Chorus): Giddy aye ay, giddy aye ay,
giddy aye ay for the one-ball Riley
Giddy aye ay: (three claps or stomps)
try it on yer own big drum!
Riley played on the big bass drum;
Riley had a mind for murder and slaughter
Riley had a bright red glitterin eye
and he kept that eye on his lovely daughter
Got me a bottle and a condom too,
got me hands on Riley's daughter
settled me down for a good old time
doin things we shouldn't oughter
Suddenly a footstep on the stair
who should it be but Riley out for slaughter
with two pistols in his hands
lookin for the man that shagged his daughter
Grabbed Old Riley by the ball,
rammed his head in a pail of water
shoved them pistols up his ass
a damn sight quicker than I shagged his daughter!
As I go walkin' down the street
People shout from every corner
There's the randy sonofabitch
That finally shagged Old Riley's daughter!
THE COUNTESS' GARTER
-Anonymous
-tune: Cornell's Alma Mater
(& only sing it when you KNOW your listeners!)
High above a Countess' garter, high above her knee
Lies the key to her successes: her virginity!
Once she had it, now she's lost it
It is gone for good!
She goes down for belted fighters
Like a Countess should!
Lift her skirts, Oh lift them gently,
Lay her on the grass!
Often are the times I've dreamed of
A piece of Countess' ass!
TRIMARIAN SHEEP SONG
-Anonymous
Tune: Scotland the Brave
Bring me some whiskey, mother
I'm feeling frisky, mother
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
I need a lover, mother
No, not my brother, mother
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
Gerbils don't make it, mother
They just can't take it, mother
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
Owls, bats and other critters
Just tend to give me jitters
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
(bridge) Sheep never talk about it
They never ever doubt it
Always so placid, affectionate and nice!
Give me that lanolin
Better than flannel-in
I need a sheep to keep me warm through the night!
IN DAYS OF OLD
-Anonymous & Ioseph of Locksley
-tune: "The Girl I left Behind Me"
In days of old, when knights were bold,
And rubbers weren't invented;
They used old socks
To cover up their jocks
And babies were prevented!
But now we're in the SCA
And we always get our fill, sir!
For the boys take matters firm in hand
And the girls are on the Pill, sir!
In days of old, when knights were bold,
And women weren't particular
They lined them up
Against the wall
And diddled 'em perpendicular!
But now we're in the SCA
And any old way is fine, sir!
So choose your lass and go to town,
As long as she's not mine, sir!
In days of old, when knights were bold
And paper not invented
They wiped their ass
With tufts of grass
And, thereby, were contented!
But now we're in the SCA
And a public park's a gas, sir!
For a toilet seat is very neat
When you have to park your ass, sir!
Last night I slept in a hollow log
With the girl I love beside me;
Tonight I sleep in a feather bed
And she's right there beside me
She jumped in bed and covered up her head
And said I couldn't find her
But she knew damn well she lied like hell
So I jumped in bed beside her!
I diddled her once, I diddled her twice,
I diddled her once too often.....
I broke a spring, or some damn thing
I diddled her to her coffin......
In the harems of Egypt it's good to behold
The fairest of harlots appear,
But the fairest, a Greek
Was owned by a sheik
Named Abdul el Bulbul Emir!
A traveling brothel came into the town
Run by a pimp from afar
Whose great reputation
Had traveled the nation:
'Twas Ivan Skidavitsky Skavar!
Abdul the Bulbul arrived with his bride
A prize whose eyes shone like a star
He claimed he could prong
More cunts with his dong
Than Ivan Skidavitsky Skavar!
A day was arranged for the spectacle great;
A visit was planned by the Czar!
And the curbs were all lined
With harlots reclined
In honour of Ivan Skavar!
They met on the track with their tools hanging slack
Dressed only in shoes and a leer,
Both were fast on the rise
but folks gasped at the size
Of Abdul el Bulbul Emir!
The cunts were all shorn, and no rubbers adorned
The prongs of the pimp and the peer,
But the pimp's steady stroke
Soon left without hope
The chance of the Bulbul Emir!
They worked thru the night til the dawn's early light
The clamor was heard from afar
The multitudes came
To applaud the ball game
Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar!
When Ivan had finished, he turned to the Greek,
And laughed when she shivered in fear
She swallowed his pride,
He buggered the bride
Of Abdul el Bulbul, Emir!
When Ivan was done, and was wiping his gun,
He bent down to polish his gear;
He felt, up his ass,
A hard pecker pass;
'Twas Abdul el Bulbul, Emir! * more *
Abdul el Bulbul, Emir (cont.)
The crowd loudly howled that it was a foul,
They were ordered to part, by the Czar,
But fast they were jammed;
The pecker was crammed
In Ivan Skidavitsky Skavar!
Now, the cream of the joke, when apart they were broke,
Was laughed at for years by the Czar:
For Abdul the Bulbul
Left most of his tool
In Ivan Skidavitsky Skavar!
The fair Grecian maiden a sad vigil keeps
With a husband whose tastes have turned queer...
She longs for the dong
That once did belong
To Abdul el Bulbul, Emir!
Caviar comes from virgin sturgeon The oyster's a prolific bivalve
Virgin sturgeon's a mighty fine fish Keeps its' innards in its' shell,
Virgin sturgeon needs no urgin' How they diddle is a riddle,
That's why caviar is my dish! But they do, so wotthehell!
Shad roe comes from scarlet shad fish The trout is just a little salmon,
Shad fish have a very sad fate: Just half-grown, and minus scales,
Pregnant shad fish is a sad fish But the trout, just like the salmon
Got that way without a mate! Can't get on without his tail!
Mrs. Clam is optimistic Give a thought to the happy codfish
Shoots her eggs out in the sea Always there when duty calls,
Hopes her suitor is a shooter Female cod fish is an odd fish
Hits the selfsame spot as she! From her come your cod fish balls!
The green sea-turtle's mate is happy A lucky fish is the common starfish
With her lover's winning ways When for offspring they essay;
First he grips her with his flipper Yes, me hearties, they have parties
Then they flip for days and days! In the good old fashioned way!
I fed caviar to my Lady I fed caviar to my grandpa
She was a virgin tried and true He was a man of ninety-three
Now that virgin needs no urgin' Shouts and screams were heard from
Now there's nothin' she won't do! grandma
As he chased her up a tree!
I fed caviar to my rooster Every living thing will do it
I fed caviar to my cow, Without making lots of fuss
Now the barnyard sure looks funny: When they do it, they don't rue it,
All the cows have feathers now! So my darlin', why not us?
SEVEN NIGHTS DRUNK
-Traditional
-From the singing of Seamus McCafferty
When I came home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be
Saw a hat on the hat-rack, where my old hat should be
So I said to my wife, (audience shouts: HEY WIFE!)
Now Honey, explain this thing to me
What's this hat doin' on the hat-rack, where my old hat should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you drunk, you silly old fool,
Can't you plainly see?
It's nothin' but a chamber-pot my mother give to me
I've traveled this world o'er, a million miles or more
But a 6 and 7/8ths chamber pot I've never seen before!
When I came home on Tuesday night......etc.
Saw a horse in the stable......etc.
...It's nothing but a milk-cow...
...But a milk-cow with a saddle on....etc.
When I came home on Wednesday night.....etc.
I saw some pants upon the chair, where my pants ought to be..etc.
...It's nothing but a bedquilt that my mother gave to me!
...But a zipper on a bedquilt I've never seen before!
When I came home on Thursday night......etc.
There in the parlor were some boots.......etc.
...It's nothing but a geranium-pot...etc.
...But a geranium-pot with laces on....etc.
When I came home on Friday night......etc.
Saw a head on the pillow......etc.
...It's nothing but a cabbage...etc.
...but a mustache on a cabbage...etc.
When I came home on Saturday night....etc.
Saw a rise beneath the sheets.....etc.
...It's nothing but a shillaghlegh...etc.
...But a shillaghlegh with ballocks on....etc.
When I came home on Sunday night...etc.
I saw a man sneakin' out my door, a little after three!
...It's an English tax-collector....etc.
...But an Englishman that can last till three....etc.
The sexual life of the Camel
Is stranger than anyone thinks
One night in a moment of passion
He tried to deflower the Sphinx!
Now, the Sphinx's posterior anatomy
Is covered with sand from the Nile.
That accounts for the hump in the Camel,
And the Sphinx's inscrutable smile!
Exhaustive experimentation
By Darwin, and Huxley and Hall
Has proved that the ass of a hedgehog
Can hardly be buggered at all!
The Baron, he rides on a warhorse,
With a fancy great helluva rig,
He doesn't get there any faster,
But it makes the old bastard feel big!
The King, he sleeps in a feather bed
The Knights all sleep in their sacks;
As a means of self-preservation,
The squires all sleep on their backs!
And here's to the girls of (insert name)
And here's to the alleys they roam,
And here's to their dirty-faced bastards,
God bless 'em, they may be your own!
My father makes illegal whiskey,
My mother makes illegal gin,
My sister runs guns for the Dark Horde:
My God, how the money rolls in!
My brother's a poor missionary
He saves little girlies from Sin!
He'll save you a blonde for five dollars...
My God, how the money rolls in!
And here's to the Outlands' new Navy!
Let's all give them three cheers!
The first submarine made of adobe....
It's been down for thirty-two years!
So here's to the War at Estrella
Where all of us landed in gaol,
And here's to the (insert name) maidens,
Who gave us our first piece of tail!
OLD DRUBBED DING
-Anonymous
-tune "Old Used Queen"
Once I was a swyver of the finest kind, a ruler of the bed
But now I spend my days as an old used thing and I find I'm rubbed too red!
With a hey-ho derry up and down I sing,
never any fun for an old drubbed ding!
My owner spends his time in solemn prayer, and dreams of naked flesh
I spend MY time in clothbound walls getting slapped when we`re too fresh
With a hey-ho derry up and down I sing,
never some relief for an old drubbed ding!
The other men they sit and talk of baring, thrust and fling
But when I come out the wenches flee, and won't give me a thing
With a hey-ho derry up and down I sing,
never any girls for an old drubbed ding!
The other ones can rise and dive and frolic near the ass
I'm the Model of Priapus, I'm hard as hell, but must not make a pass!
With a hey-ho derry up and down I sing
never any fun for an old drubbed ding!
But someday soon there'll be a change, in Martin Luther's "rise,"
And the Reformation's opening "shot" will land between his eyes!
With a Hey-ho derry up and down WE'LL sing,
Then there will be FUN for an old drubbed ding!
