The Ever Decreasing Circle Lyrics
The Rusty, Cold Farmer
I'm a rusty, cold farmer in a cottage well thatched
My rusty, cold cupboard is full
In my rusty, cold garden there's chickens and ducks
Ane a pig and a sheep and a bull
CHO: I brew home brewed bread and I brew home brewed cheese
I brew home brewed beer and I drink it
My rusty, cold knowledge is second to none
I don't say a lot but I think it
At four in the morning I rise from my bed
For that is the lot of the farmer
If you saw my missus then you'd understand
I call her my morning alarmer
On Monday and Tuesday I take life quite slow
On Wednesday and Thursday I slack
On Friday and Sarurday I don't do a sight
And by Sunday I'm flat on my back
In Spring that's too wet to go on the land
In Summer that's always too dry
In Autumn that's cold and the crops get the mould
And that's how we keep the prices high
There's April, there's May, there's June and July
There's August, September, October and then
November, December, January, February
And March. Then we all start again
The Trunch Wassail Song
Here we come a wassailing all among the leaves
That isn't very easy when they're still all on the
trees
Chorus
Wassail, wassail, we'll tell you wassail
That comes in bottles brown and pale
Comes in bottles, so bring some here
And we'll have a happy new year
Let us now be thankful that the old year has departed
But there's no time for feast before another one has
started
Chorus
Now the year has passed away, cast away your sins
There's lots of lovely new ones as another year begins
Chorus
Pouring cider on the apple trees seems rather wrong
We'll drink it first and then we'll water the trees
before too long
Chorus
Bring food from off your table and beer from out o'
your barrel
For If you don't we'll stop and sing another ancient
carol
The Losing of the Whale
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
On March the fourteenth day,
I bought myself a calendar
For we were bound away.
We sailed from tacky guano
And followed the seabird's flight,
For we were hunting whales, me boys,
At least we thought we might.
We sailed for three long days and nights
But saw no whales at all.
The mate went up the mast to look
While our captain went up the wall.
We sailed for four more days and nights
And still we had no luck;
Till a whale come up for air, me boys
And the mate cried, "Thar she suck!"
The whale she lashed her tail, me boys,
One man on deck took a glancing blow;
But not so bad as our captain
For he was wounded down below.
Now the first to throw his harpoon out
Was Valparaiso Luke.
He hit her in the tail, me boys,
But they said that was a fluke.
Now we went in with our blubber hooks
And the whale sunk down below;
We caused her for to vomit, boys,
And the mate cried, "Thar she throw!"
Now we hauled that whale on deck, me boys,
Amid many hearty cries;
But that fish it was so huge, me boys,
That our vessel did capsize.
And our captain with remorse was filled
Likewise with water too;
" I'll no more hunt the whale," he cried,
" If that's the last thing I don't do!"
"I'll never more hunt that whale," he cried,
And what's more, he was right.
For the heavy seas bore down on him
And carried him from our sight.
And soon likewise we all were drowned
None lived to tell the tale;
Not one of us survived to tell
Of how we lost that whale.
The Southrepps May Song
All on this pleasant morning from Southrepps come we
To ask a bag of sugar to sweeten our tea.
If you can't spare a bag, then a cupfull will do.
And if you can't spare that, well, bugger you.
The master of this house in his rusty old chain
Will stamp and swear and curse and he'll bitterly
complain.
He'll say he's most offended with his house we're
bein' so bold,
And if he had his way, we'd be left out in the cold.
The mistress of this house with her stockings all torn
Will rant and rave and curse the very hour we were
born.
And then she'll fall asleep and loudly she will snore.
And when her body is at peace we hope her soul's at
war
The daughter of this house is a proper little whore,
She's had all the blokes round here, and plenty more.
And all her little children round the table do go
Until they all get dizzy and fall down on the floor.
This house and this arbour are in disrepair.
I'd live all in my pigsty as soon as I'd live there.
Your men and your maidens are rolling in the dew,
Unless they all take care, they'll go down with the
flu.
Bad luck to this household, the season begun.
Where you had ten apples, may you have one.
Now we'll come no more nigh you until the next year,
And the last thing we'll do is to wish you good cheer.
The Wild Mounting Time
Oh the Springtime that is coming,
And the girls are in a dither.
'Tis the Wild Mounting Time
And I am wondering whether
Do you go Lassie go
And will we go together
At the Wild Mounting Time
Or will I get Bloomin' Heather
Do you go Lassie go ?
My love is like a swan
With the lightness of a feather,
But her friend is like a goose
And they call her Bloomin'' Heather
I will build my love a Mower
And cut down that Bloomin' Heather
Then at the Wild Mounting Time
My love will be mine forever.
If my truelove she won't go
Then I surely will not bother
For at the Wild Mounting Time
I could even fancy Heather !
Bald General Coote
Bald General Coote that is my name
A drinking man of noble fame
With bottle and glass quite unsurpassed
But I've landed in the drink at last
CHO: I led my men with Courage bold
With Bullards Strong and Adnams Old
Napoleon Brandy and Navy Rum
But now at last to the dregs I have come
I sank them with Nelson as the rounds they flew
On the deck of the Victory he had a fair few
Some say 'twas blind courage that carried his downfall
Blind drunk is more like it as I recall
I drank at the bottle of Waterloo
A glorious victory for England too
But my only fight in that country so far
Was the fight I had to get to the bar
I fought for my country all at the Crimea
But the only crime 'ere was the price of the beer
The Light Brigade come all to grief
But we'd plenty of Brown for our relief
I was there when Lady Smith was relieved
When they brought her a drink a great sigh she did heave
The pints of beer came rolling in
And General Gordon he ordered a gin
But now my campaigs are all over I fear
My hand it do shake and my eye is not clear
And all on my stones these words you should fix
He died, dead drunk, aged twenty-six
Harvest Away
Now harvest time is here, my boys, so raise a bumper do
The oats and beans and barley, oh, and to the turnips, too
Now early in the morning, oh, we rise up with the quail
A lump of greasy bacon fat and half a pint of ale
CHO: So drink, boys, drink, that is the master's brew
And if you do not drink it there'll be no more work for you
We stagger to the harvest field for to begin our labours
And carry heavy firkins each one bigger than his neighbour's
We've barely started working when we have to stop, I fear
For now that is our duty bound to drind a pint of beer
And at the hour of ten o'clock our progress is cut short
The foreman cries let to my boys, now you must drink a quart
The work is hard, the sun is hot, 'tis hard to keep your balance
Especially in the afternoon when you've had several gallons
When harvest time is over, boys, it's to the pub we'll steer
For there our master doth provide more barrels of strong beer
When closing time is here at last thawnk God we all can stop
For even if he paid us we couldn't drink another drop
Now we will have a holiday before our work's resumption
The doctor says we need the rest, we're suffering from consumption
My back is sore, my arms are stiff, my legs like lumps of lead
But all of that is nothing to the aching in my head
Joan Sugarbeet
There were three men came out of the East
Their fortunes for to try
And these three men made a solemn vow
Joan Sugarbeet should die
They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed her in
Threw clods upon her head
And these three men made a solemn vow
Joan Sugarbeet was dead
They let her lie for a very long time
Till the rain from heaven did fall
Then little lady Joan sprung uo her head
And soon amazed them all
They let her stand till midwinter
Till she looked both flaccid and green
And little Lady Joan she grew a big bottom
And so became a queen
They hired men with hands so strong
To pull her out of bed
They cut her in half around the waist
And threw away her head
They hired men with sharp pitchforks
Who piled her by the road
But the driver he served her worse than that
For he threw her upon his load
They rolled her along and along the road
Till at Cantley they did meet
And there they made a bloody great stack
Of poor Joan Sugarbeet
They hired men with choppers so huge
To chop her into bits
And the Sugar Corporation served her worse than that
For they drowned her in a pit
Here's little Lady Joan in a china cup
And lumps all in a bowl
And little Lady Joan in the china cup
She proved the sweeter girl
For the office boy can't balance his books
Nor keep his desk so neat
And the housewife can't enjoy her cup of P. G. Tips
Without a little bit of Joan Sugarbeet
The Poacher's Christmas
On the first day of Christmas my dog and I brought back
A partridge in an old sack.
Two moor hens
Three lame ducks
Four bald coots
Five poached eggs
Six bootiful turkeys
Seven pleasant pheasants
Eight stoned crows
Nine breeding rabits - all with dirty habits
Ten hares receding
Eleven salmon smoking
Twelve stags a-rutting
On the thirteenth day of Christmas my dog and I got caught with:
Twelve stags a-rutting
etc.
Spoken: We got taken to court and tried
and spent the next fourteen days inside.