ROWDY SONGS NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN OR SMALL DOGS!
                            -transcribed by Ioseph of Locksley
                             All lyrics Public Domain/ NO copyright!
                             (as far as we know!)

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                     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 amorous 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!

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2
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                         THE SQUIRE'S SONG
                                -Anonymous
                        -note: not for the weak-kneed!

                Don't laugh when you see a Duke walk by
                For you may be the next to die!

                To fight with him is suicide
                Especially if you "rhino-hide!"

                As on the field your helm caves in;
                His sword is buried down to your chin!

                They'll take you out to the family plot
                And there you'll wither, decay, and rot!

                They'll take you out, and lower you down,
                And men with shovels will gather 'round!

                They wrap you up in a big white sheet
                And bury you under about six feet!

                And all goes well for about a week
                And then the coffin begins to leak!

                The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out,
                The worms hold revels upon your snout!

                They call their friends, and their buddies, too,
                They'll make a terrible mess of you!

                Your body turns a slimey green
                And pus runs out like whipping cream!

                Your hair turns white, your skin turns blue
                You don't look like you used to do!

                Your eyes fall in, your teeth fall out,
                Your liver turns to sauerkraut!

                And great big bugs with eyes of green
                Crawl in your liver and out your spleen!

                You become a thing that's very rare
                A smell worse than your underwear!

                So don't laugh when you see a Duke walk by
                For you may be the next to die!

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3
                      ONE-BALL RILEY
                          -Traditional Irish

                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!

                Her hair was black and her eyes were blue
                The Colonel and the Major and the Captain sought her
                The Sergeant and the Private and the Drummer boy too
                All of 'em shagged O'Riley's daughter!

                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

                While walking thru the park one day
                Who should I spy but Riley's daughter?
                Never a word I had to say
                But "Don't you think we really oughter?"

                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

                Up the stairs and into bed
                I shagged and shagged until I stove her
                Never a word that maiden said
                just laughed like hell till the fun was over!

                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!

                Now all you lasses, all you maids
                Answer me now, and don't speak shyly
                Would you have it straight and true
                Or the way I gave it to One-Ball Riley?

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4




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                        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!

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                            TAIL TODDLE
                                -Traditional Scots
                                 recorded by the Mitchell Trio

                Our guidwife held o'er to Fife
                For tae buy a coal-riddle
                Lang or she cam back agin
                Tammie gart my tail toddle!

                (Chorus): Tail toddle, tail toddle
                          Tammie gars my tail toddle
                          But an' ben we diddle-doddle
                          Tammie gars my tail toddle!

                Wen I'm deid I'm out o'date
                Wen I'm seik I'm fu' o'trouble
                Wen I'm weel I stap about
                An' Tammie gars my tail toddle!

                Jenny Jack she gae'd a plack
                Helen Wallace gae'd a bottle
                Quo' the bride "It's o'er little
                For tae mend a broken dottle!"

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                           THE GOOD SHIP VENUS
                                   -Anonymous

It was on the good ship Venus        The Captain's name was Morgan
My God, you should have seen us!     By God, he was a gorgon!
The figurehead was a whore in bed,   Ten times each day sweet tunes he'd play
And the mast, an upright penis!      On his reproductive organ!

The Captain of this lugger       The Captain's wife was Mable
He was a dirty bugger!           To screw, she wasn't able
He wasn't fit to shovel shit     So the dirty shits, they nailed her tits
From one place to another!       Across the Captain's table!

The Mate's name it was Andy
By God, he had a dandy!
Till they crushed his cock with a jagged rock
For coming in the brandy!
                                      
The second mate was Hooper            
By God, he was a trooper!
He jerked and jerked until he worked
Himself into a stupor!

The cabin boy, the cabin boy,          The Captain's dog was Rover
The dirty little nipper;               We rolled that poor dog over
He filled his ass with broken glass,   Ten times each day all along the way
And circumcised the Skipper!           From Calais back to Dover!

The Captain's daughter, Mable,
Was ready, willing and able,
To fornicate with the second mate
Upon the chartroom table!

The Captain's daughter, Mary,
Had never lost her cherry,
The men grew bold, and offered gold:
Now there's no Virgin Mary!

The Captain's other daughter
Fell in the deep sea water
Delighted squeals revealed that eels
Had found her sexual quarter!

Aboard the good ship Venus
We sailors all were henious:
It was our fate to masturbate
And that develops meanness!

The trip it was exciting
The pleasures were inviting
All day we blew - all night we'd screw
By artificial lighting!

One day the good ship foundered          And when we reached our station
On crags our bags were pound(er)ed       We found to our elation
We stubbed our cocks against the rocks,  The ship had sunk in a sea of spunk
And then, we all were drownd(er)ed!      From mutual masturbation!

6
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                          IN DAYS OF OLD
                                 -Anonymous & Ioseph of Locksley
                  (Tune: "The Girl I left Behind Me")

SCA:            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!

MUNDANE:        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......

                        (shouted:) DAMN! DAMN! DAMN! DAMN!

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                ABDUL EL BULBUL, EMIR!
                            -Anonymous

        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)
8
   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!

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                            VIRGIN STURGEON
                                 -Anonymous
                         (Tune: "Ruben, Ruben")

 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?

 
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                        SEVEN NIGHTS DRUNK
                                -Traditional
                                -From the singing of Seamus McCafferty

    When I came home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be
    I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be
    So I called my wife, (audience shouts: HEY WIFE!)
    And I said to her, would you kindly tell to me
    Who owns that horse outside my door, where my old horse should be?
            Oh, you're drunk, you drunk, you silly old fool,
            Can't you plainly see?
            That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me
            Well it's many a day I've travelled, a hundred miles or more
            But a saddle on a sow I've never seen before!

    When I came home on Tuesday night......etc.
    Saw a coat behind the door......etc.
    ....Who owns that coat.....
            ...that's a lovely blanket...
            ...But buttons on a blanket....etc.

    When I came home on Wednesday night.....etc.
    I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be..etc.
    ....Who owns that pipe.....
            ...That's a lovely tin-whistle that my mother sent to me!
            ...But tobacco in a tin-whistle I've never seen before!

    When I came home on Thursday night......etc.
    I saw two boots beneath the bed.......etc.
    ....Who owns those boots.......etc.
            ...They're two geranium-pots...etc.
            ...But laces in geranium-pots....etc.

    When I came home on Friday night......etc.
    Saw a head upon the bed......etc.
    ....Who owns that head.........etc.
            ...That's a baby boy...etc.
            ...but whiskers on a baby boy...etc.

    When I came home on Saturday night....etc.
    Saw a rise beneath the sheets.....etc.
    ....Who owns that rise......
            ...It's nothing but a shillelagh...etc.
            ...But knackers on a shillelagh....etc.

    (Alternate lyric: "Hammer" "A hammer with a head like that..")

    When I came home on Sunday night...etc.
    I saw a man walk out the door, a little after three! (shout: A.M.!)
    ....Who was that man......after three (shout: A.M.!)
            ...That's an English tax-man....etc.
            ...But an Englishman that could last till three....etc.


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      THE SEXUAL LIFE OF THE CAMEL, or MY GOD HOW THE MONEY ROLLS IN!
                                                           -Anonymous

The sexual life of the Camel        My cousin sells shields to the Tuchux
Is stranger than anyone thinks      The plywood they're made of is thin;
One night in a moment of passion    I'm a doggone good Chiurgeon
He tried to deflower the Sphinx!    My God, how the money rolls in!

Now, the Sphinx's posterior anatomy      My brother is a mercenary 
Is covered with sand from the Nile.      Hiring out to help you win
That accounts for the hump in the Camel, Since both Kingdoms pay for his wages
And the Sphinx's inscrutable smile!      My God, how the money rolls in!

Exhaustive experimentation             The East and the Middle are fighting
By Darwin, and Huxley and Hall         Trimaris and others join in
Has proved that the ass of a hedgehog  The Dark Horde makes book on the winner
Can hardly be buggered at all!         My God, how the money rolls in!

The Baron, he rides on a warhorse,      Smilin' Ali is looking for people
With a fancy great helluva rig,         To travel a long way with him
He doesn't get there any faster,        To auctions in old Persian markets
But it makes the old bastard feel big!  My God, how the money rolls in!  

The King, he sleeps in a feather bed    I'm just a poor mercenary
The Knights all sleep in their sacks;   I don't care if we lose or we win
As a means of self-preservation,        As long as you're still here on payday
The squires all sleep on their backs!   My God, how the money rolls in!

And here's to the girls of (insert name)    Ioseph of Locksley is Celtic,
And here's to the alleys they roam,         Ioseph of Locksley is thin,
And here's to their dirty-faced bastards,   Ioseph writes satire to order,
God bless 'em, they may be your own!        My God, how the money rolls in!

My father makes illegal whiskey,          Petruccio is an Italian
My mother makes illegal gin,              He is an expert at Sin
My sister runs guns for the Dark Horde:   He has a stable of gerbils
My God, how the money rolls in!           My God, how the money rolls in!

My brother's a poor missionary          The Dark Horde really likes fighting
He saves little girlies from Sin!       We want your side to win
He'll save you a blonde for 5 dollars   We've cornered the market on duct tape
My God, how the money rolls in!         My God, how the money rolls in!

And here's to the Outlands' new Navy!   Elric, he drives a hard bargain
Let's all give them three cheers!       While trading for leather or skins
The first submarine made of adobe....   He'll let you keep yours for a cookie!
It's been down for thirty-two years!    My God, how the cookies roll in!

So here's to the War at Estrella          Elric's a traveling merchant
Where all of us landed in gaol,           With a band of his very large friends
And here's to the (insert name) maidens,  He'll sell you your lives for your
Who gave us our first piece of tail!                                  silver
                                          My God, how the money rolls in!


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11

                




                
                
                

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                          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!
  
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12
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                       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!

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                        IT TAKES A NASTY MAN
                             -Braden the Bard
                        (Tune: "It Takes a Worried Man")

        It takes a nasty man, to sing a nasty song (3X)
        I'm nasty now, and I'll be nasty all night long!

        Every single morning I insist on breakfast in bed
        So my Lady wraps her legs around my head!

        I say my bedtime prayers when the Mission bell rings eight
        O send me, Lord, a girl that wants to fornicate!

        They call me short, dark and handsome butI thank God they're wrong
        How can I be short, at a full nine inches long?

        My Liege Lord says I'm slow, but his daughter doesn't mind
        It's 'cause I'm slow, that I get a little behind....!

        I've got hair everywhere, from my head down to my feet
        And in my mouth it gets stuck between my teeth!

        I'll give you some kissin', girl, every single night
        If you want more than that, the line forms to the right!

        They say you are what you eat, I answer "Is that a fact?"
        If that is true, I'm a nymphomaniac!

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13
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                             THE RED FLAG
                (Tune: "O Tannenbaum," "Maryland," &c.)

        While walking 'cross the rocks so bare
        I saw a maiden lying there
        And as she lay in sweet repose
        A breath of wind blew up her clothes
                A mongol who was passing by
                Lifted his hat and winked his eye
        And then he saw, to his despair,
        She had the Red Flag waving there!

        The mongol would not be denied
        He said "By God, I'll slip inside!"
        He stripped down to his underwear,
        And soon his ass was shining bare
                The maiden she was not disturbed
                Nor in the slightest bit perterbed
        For, come what may, full well she knew,
        The brave Red Flag would see her thru!

        The mongol he was shivering
        His mighty prick was quivering.
        But soon he knew he'd met his match,
        He could not penetrate her snatch!
                Try as he might, his path was blocked,
                All he could do was fire half-cocked;
        To quit the fray he did prepare,
        And leave the goddam Red Flag there!

        The moral of this tale is plain,
        But pardon me if I explain;
        In love, or war - it matters not,
        You never, ever waste a shot!
                The mongol's judgement was at fault
                To penetrate the maiden's vault
        With Red Flag flying, let it pass:
        Just shove it up the maiden's ass!

                OPTIONAL CHORUS:

                        The peasant class can kiss my ass!
                        I've got my Peerage, now, at last!
                        Don't bother me, I cannot work,
                        I'm in a Peerage Circle Jerk!





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14
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                      THE FARTING CONTEST
                      (Tune: Sweet Betsy From Pike)

        I'll tell you a story that is sure to please
        Of a great farting contest at Sutton-on-Pease
        Where all the best arses paraded the field
        To compete in a contest for various shields.
                  Some tighten their arses and fart up the scale
                  To compete for a cup, or a barrel of ale,
                  While others, whose arses are biggest and strongest,
                  Compete in the section for loudest and longest.
 
        Now, this year's event had drawn quite a big crowd
        And the betting was even on Mrs. McDowd
        For it had appeared, in the evening edition,
        That this lady's arse was in perfect condition.
                  Miss Bingle arrived amid roars of applause
                  And promptly proceeded to pull off her drawers
                  For, though she'd no chance in the farting display
                  She'd the prettiest bottom you'd see in a day!

        Now, young Mrs. Porter was backed for a place
        though she'd often been placed in the deepest disgrace
        by dropping a fart on a Sunday in church
        And disturbing the sermon of Reverend McGurk!
                  The ladies lined up, at the signal to start,
                  And, winning the toss, Mrs. Jones to first fart;
                  The people around stood in silence and wonder,
                  While her wireless transmitted gale force and thunder!

        Now, Mrs. McDowd reckoned nothing of this
        For she'd had some weak tea, and was all wind and piss;
        So she took up her place, and her arse opened wide,
        But, unluckily, shit, and was disqualified!
                  Then young Mrs. Porter was called to the front
                  And started by doing a wonderful stunt:
                  She took a deep breath, and, clenching her hands,
                  She blew the damnned roof off the popular stands!

        This left young Miss Bingle, who shyly appeared,
        And smiled at the clergy, who lustily cheered!
        And though it was thought that her chances were small,
        She ran out a winner, out-farting them all!
                  She went to the rostrum with dignified gait,
                  And took from the Vicar a set of gold plate,
                  Then she turned to the clergy, with sweetness sublime,
                  And, smiling, said "Come up and see me sometime!"

        The clergy was shocked by Miss Bingle's remark,
        Though some felt a stirring 'neath vestment and sark,
        Perhaps t'was the wind - but who could have guessed?
        And that was the end of the farting contest!

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15
                           THE MOOSE SONG
                                -Thomas Payton, et. al.
                           (tune: "Betsy From Pike")
 
      When I was a young girl (man) I used to like boys (girls),
      I fondled their tights (bodies) and played with their toys (curls),
      But me boy (girl) friend ran off with a salesman named Bruce,
      You'd never get treatment like that from a Moose!

      CHORUS: So it's Moose, Moose, I like a Moose,
              I've never had anything quite like a Moose,
              I've had many lovers, my life has been loose,
              But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!

      Now when I'm in need of a very good lay,
      I go to me stables and gets me some hay,
      I opens me window and spreads it around,
      'Cause Moose always comes when there's hay on the ground!

      Now I've made it with all kinds of beasties with hair,
      I'd make it with snakes if their fangs were not there,
      I've made it with walrus, two ducks and a goose,
      But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!
                                                           
      Now gorillas are fine for a Saturday night,
      And lions and tigers, they puts up a fight,
      But it just ain't the same when you slams your caboose
      As the feeling you gets when you humps with a Moose!

      I've tried many beasties on land or on sea
      I've even tried hump-backs that humped back on me!
      Sharks are quite good, tho they're hard to pull loose
      But on dry land there is nothing quite like a moose!

      Woodchucks are all right except that they bite
      And foxes and rabbits won't last thru the night!
      Cows would be fun, but they're hard to seduce
      But you never need worry should you find a moose!

      Step in my study, and trophies you'll find
      A black striped tiger and scruffy maned lion
      You'll know the elephant by his ivory tooth
      And the one that's a-winking, you know is the moose!

      The lion succumbed to a thirty-ought-six
      Machine guns and tigers I've proved do not mix
      The elephant fell by a bomb with a fuse
      But I won't tell a soul how I did in the moose!

      I've found many women attracted to me
      A few of them have had me over for tea
      Some say that they love me when they're feeling loose
      But I'd trade the world's women for one lovely moose!

      The good Lord made Adam, and then He made Eve
      Said He: "If you sin now, I'll ask you to leave!"
      They left not because of Eve's forbidden fruit
      But 'cause Adam decided the moose there were cute!

                         (more!)
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   The Moose Song (Cont.)

      The English are said to like boars who've had corn
      The Celtics just dream of the young Unicorn
      The Germans, it's said, just need leather and rope
      But give me a moose and I'll no longer mope!

      Now I've broken the laws in this god-awful state
      They've put me in prison and locked up the gate
      They say that tomorrow I'll swing from a noose
      But my last night I'll spend with a good sexy moose!

      Next morning the Governor's word reached my ears
      "We've commuted your sentence to ninety-nine years!"
      "You won't get parole; not a five minute's truce,
      And your friend goes to Sing-Sing, he's so big-a-moose!"

(slowly) Now that I'm old and advanced in me years,
         I'll look back on me life, and I'll shed me no tears,
         As I sit in me chair with me glass of Mateuse,
         And play hide the salami with Marvin (Millie) the Moose!

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                THE ANCIENT AND OLD IRISH CONDOM
                                      -Anonymous
                (Tune: "Rosin the Beau")
                (Recorded: "Celtic Pride: In Strange Form")

        I was up to me arse in the muck, Sir,
        with a peat contract down in the bog
        When me shovel it struck something hard, Sir,
        that I thought was a rock or a log

        T'was a box of the finest old oak, Sir,
        T'was a foot long, and four inches wide
        and not giving a damn for the Fairies
        I just took a quick look inside

        Now I opened the lid of this box, Sir,
        and I swear that my story is true
        T'was an ancient and old Irish condom
        A relic of Brian Boru

        T'was an ancient and old Irish condom
        T'was a foot long, and made of elk hide,
        With a little gold tag on it's end, Sir,
        with his name, rank, and stud fee inscribed

        Now, I cast me mind back thru the ages
        To the days of that horny old Celt
        With his wife lyin' by on the bed, Sir,
        As he stood by the fire in his pelt

        And I thought that I heard Brian whisper
        As he stood in the fire's rosy light
        "Well, you've had yer own way long enough, dear...
        'Tis the hairy side outside, tonight."

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17
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                   THE BANTAM COCK
                   (Recorded: "Celtic Pride: In Strange Form")
                               
           He was a fine upstanding bantam-cock
           So brisk, and stiff, and spry...
           With a springy step, and a jaunty plume,
           And a purposeful look in his eye
           In his little black laughing eye!

           So I took him to the coop and introduced him to
           My seventeen wide-eyed hens
           And he tupped and he tupped as a hero tupps,
           And he bowed to them all, and then,
           He up and took 'em all again!

           Then upon the peace of my ducks and geese
           He boldly did intrude
           And with glazed eyes and opened mouths
           They bore him with fortitude...
           And a little bit of gratitude!

           He jumped my giggling guinea-fowl!
           He thrust his attentions upon
           Twenty hysterical turkeys,
           And a visiting migrant swan!
           And the bantam thundered on!

           He groped my fan-tail pigeon doves,
           My lily-white Columbine,
           And as I was lookin' at me budgerigar,
           He jumped my parrot from behind!
           And it was sittin' on me shoulder at the time!

           But all of a sudden, with a gasp and a gulp,
           He clapped his wings to his head!
           He lay flat on his back with his feet in the air;
           My bantam-cock was dead!
           And the vultures circled overhead!

           What a noble beast! What a champion cock!
           What a way to live and die!
           As I dug him a grave to protect his bones,
           From those hungry buzzards in the sky,
           The bantam opened up his eyes!

           He gave me a wink, and a terrible grin,
           The way that rapists do....
           He said, "Do you see them silly daft buggers up there?
           They'll be down in a minnit 'er two!
           They'll be down in a minnit 'er two!"


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18
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                       THE MODEST WENCH 
                                -David of Bagulay 

       A comely young wench from the south        
       Went travelling far and free   
       She said "I'm searching for love as true as the dove!"
       And she came to the north country

       CHORUS: Saying "I beg your pardon, Sir!
               I am but a modest wench....
               A lovely lively lusty busty rather outrageous wench  
               But a modest one, nevertheless!"

       She met with two grinning dwarves
       Said one to the other: "What bliss!
       You stand on her shoulder; together we'll hold her
       And give her a rousing kiss!"

       She met with a leering banker
       Who said "Banking has various facets...
       I could invest all your money till the ledgers looked funny,
       But I'd rather hold onto your assets!"

       She met with a hungry giant
       Who roared in stentorian tones
       "To pepper I'd falter; I'd rather assault her
       before I devour her bones!"

       She met with a country lout
       who said,"Massage me here on this hummock.
       Like my girlfriend who felt she should stop at the belt
       And never got up to my stomach..."

       She met with a charming minstrel
       "At last sir can you show me true love?"
       He chortled with glee as he patted her knee     
       He rubbed his hands as he fired up his glands     
       He looked very droll as he turned into a troll
       And sneered "Certainly! From below or above!"

                 "I beg your pardon, sir!
                 I -was- but a modest wench...
                 A lovely lively lusty busty rather outrageous wench
                 But a modest one....never the more!"

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19

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                       THE SLEEPING SCOTSMAN
                                -Anonymous
                   (last 2 verses by Rich Bailey)

   A Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
   And one could tell by how he walked he'd drunk more than his share
   He stumbled on until he could no longer keep his feet
   Then staggered off into the grass to sleep, beside the street

   CHORUS: A ring-di-diddle-e-di do, a-ring-di-diddle-i-day
           He staggered off into the grass to sleep beside the street.

           (following choruses as above, repeating last line of verse)

   A pair of young and lovely girls just happened to come by
   And one said to the other, with a twinkle in her eye:
   "You see yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong and handsome built..
   I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?"

   They crept upon the sleeping Scotsman, quiet as could be,
   And lifted up his kilt above the waist, so they could see..
   And there, behold, for them to view, beneath his Scottish skirt
   T'was nothing but what God has graced him with upon his birth!

   They marveled for a moment, then one said: "We'd best be gone.
   But let's leave a present for our friend before we move along!"
   So as a gift, they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow,
   Around the Bonnie Star the Scottish kilt did lift and show!

   The Scotsman woke to Nature's Call, and stumbled towards a tree
   Behind the bush, he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees!
   Then, in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes:
   "I ken na' whaur y'been, m'lad, but I see y'won First Prize!"

   Our Scottish friend, still dressed in kilt, continued up the street
   He hadn't gone ten yards or more, when a lass he chanced to meet.
   She said: "I've heard what's underneath there, tell me, is it so?"
   He said: "Just slip your hand up, lass, if y'really want to know!"

   So she slipped her hand right up his kilt, and much to her surprise,
   The Scotsman smiled, and a very strange look came into his eyes,
   She said: "Why, sir, that's gruesome!" And then she heard him roar:
   "If you stick yer hand up once again, you'll find it grew some more!"

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20
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                        PUFF, THE TRAGIC FAGGOT
                                     -Anonymous
                     (Tune: "Puff, The Magic Dragon")

        Puff, the tragic faggot, went on a spree
        And terrorized the people at the Nudist Colony!
        Little Jackie Paper, loved that rascal, Puff,
        But wished he wouldn't use so much of that "greasy kid stuff!"

CHORUS: Puff, the tragic faggot, went on a spree
        And terrorized the people at the Nudist Colony! (2X)

        Together they would travel, like a boat with billowed sail
        Jackie kept his fingers pressed 'neath Puff's romantic tail
        Noble Kings and Princes bowed low whene're they came
        Pirates lowered EVERYTHING when Puff roared out his name!

        A faggot lives for AGES, but not so little boys;
        Ding-a-lings and Faery Rings make way for other toys.
        One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
        And Puff, the tragic faggot, he ceased his fearless roar.

        His head was bent in sorrow, green tears fell like rain
        Puff no longer went to play along the "Cherry" Lane
        Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave
        So Puff the tragic faggot sadly crept into his cave.

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                          MOLLY MALONE
                                -Ioseph of Locksley

        In Dublin's fair city, where the girls have no titties
        T'was there that I first met sweet Molly Malone
        You could have her for a penny, and be one of many,
        But for sixpence she would act alive, alive-o!

                Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
                But for sixpence she would act alive, alive-o!

        She was a street walker, and sure t'was no wonder
        For so were her mother and grandmother too,
        With a mattress on the barrow, thru streets broad and narrow,
        And for sixpence they would act alive, alive-o!

                Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
                And for sixpence they would act alive, alive-o!

        She died of a fever, and no one could save her;
        It was caught from a folkie from Ontario,
        Now her ghost wheels the barrow thru streets broad and narrow
        But a ghost can't be had that's alive, alive-o!

                Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
                But a ghost can't be had that's alive, alive-o!

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21
                             *

     This is one of several files comprising the Black Book
     of Song of Ioseph of Locksley, OL, OP, &c. Collect them
                            All!