Perhaps this collection might be of some interest to the connoisseurs of ribald songs.
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As far as I can tell, this was written in the 18th century. As such, it seems to be in the public domain at the moment, otherwise I would not post the lyirics.
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I give you, The Lusty Young Smith.
A Lusty Young Smith
A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing,
his hammer laid by but his forge still aglow,
When to him a buxom young damesel cam smiling,
and asked if to work at her forge he would go.
Chorus
With a jingle-bang jingle-bang jingle-bang jingle,
with a jingle-bang jingle-bang jingle-hi-ho!
“I will”, said the smith, and they went off together,
Away to the young damsel’s forge they did go,
They stripped to go to it, was hot work and weather,
She kindled a fire and soon made him blow.
Her husbad, she said, no good work could afford her,
His strength and his tools were worn out long ago,
The smith said, “well mine are in very good order,
and now I am ready my skill for to show”
Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire,
and he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so…
Quoth she, “What I get I get out of the fire,
So prithee strike hard and redouble thy blow!”
Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating,
Grow soft in the forge in a minute or so,
And often was hardened, still beating and beating,
But each time it softened it hardened more slow.
The smith then would go; quoth the dame full of sorrow,
"Oh what would I give could my husband do so!
Good lad, with your hammer, come hither tomorrow
But pray won’t you use it once more ere you go?
I still don’t know the name of the tune to “Tom Taylor”, but it’s the same as:
*My name is Jan Janssen
I come from Wisconsin
I work in a lumber yard there
All the people I meet upon the street
Say, “Hi there! What’s your name?”
(And I tell them…)
My name is Jan Janssen
I come from Wisconsin… * (ad nauseum)
Cadences are different from tunes. I recognize LOTS of cadences, but I am apparently tune-education-deficient.
I’ve never heard most of these sung in any shape, form, or fashion, alas. I never went to camp or had a pony either.
How I love her,
How I love her,
How I love my mother in law!
Sheeeeeee’s a
Rag a bag, shag a bag
Fucking old towrag
Bastard of a fucking great whore,
She needs shootin’, bootin’ fucking executin,
Hangin’ from the shithouse door.
How I love her
How I love her
How I love my mother in law.
She’s coming round today,
How I wish she’d stay away
I’ve put tacks on all the chairs,
I’ve greased up all the stairs,
How I wish she’d fall and break her back
Cause I do like wearing Black Black Black
How I love her
How I love her
How I love my mother in law.
I think I shall stop there as this song starts to get a little bit rude after those first two verses.
Cajela
Other verses to that song, usually to the tune of the Eton Boating song.
We’ve all been thrown out of Eton,
For buggering the schoolmasters arse
We’re a shower of Brown hatters
and you are the top of the class!
And we’ll all pull together
Our bollocks between our knees
And we’ll all pull together
And do as we fucking well please.
Oh, what would you like said the waiter,
Casually picking his nose,
Two boiled eggs you bastard
You can’t put you finger in those
And we’ll all pull together
Our bollocks between our knees
And we’ll all pull together
And do as we fucking well please.
There was an old farmer who sat on a rock,
Shaking and waving his big hairy…
Fist at the ladies next door at the Ritz,
Who taught the young children to play with their…
Kite strings and marbles and all things galore,
Along came a lady who looked like a…
Decent young lady, but walked like a duck,
She thought she’d invented a new way to…
Bring up the children, to sew and to knit,
The boys in the stable were shoveling…
Litter and paper from yesterday’s hunt,
And old farmer Potter was having some…
Cake in the stables and singing this song,
If you think this song’s dirty you’re bloody well wrong!
I heard the Dirty Song a little bit differently:
There was an old farmer who lived by a rock,
he sat in the meadow a shaking his
fist at the boys who were down by the crick,
their feet in the water, their hands on their
marbles and playthings and in days of yore,
there came a young lady who looked like a
pretty young creature, she sat on the grass,
then pulled up her dresses and showed us her
ruffles and laces and white fluffy duck
She said she was learning a new way to
bring up her children and learn them to knit,
while the boys in the barnyard were shoveling
refuse and litter from yesterday’s hunt,
and the girl in the meadow was rubbing her
eyes at the fellows as girls sometimes do,
to make it quite clear that she wanted to
go for a nice little stroll on the grass,
then hurry back home for a nice piece of
ice cream and cake that stood three layers tall,
and after dessert she’d be ready to
go for another walk down by the dock,
with any young man with a sizeable
roll of one hundreds and a big bulge up front,
if he’d ask politely she’d show him her
little pet dog who was subject to fits,
and then she would let him take hold of her
small, dainty hand with a movement so quick,
then she would bend over and suck on his
soda, so sweetly, 'til she’d finished it,
then pull down her panties to rub on her
hip that she bruised when she ran down the hall
cause he’d tried to force her to lick on his
candy, so tasty, made of butterscotch,
and then he spread whipped cream all over her
cookies that she had been baking all night,
if you think this dirty, you’re fucking well right.
The bawdy songs from the cult '73 British horror flick The Wicker Man.
(Scroll down one page.)
Tune – first 2 lines of “Mine eyes have seen the glory of…”
Oh, Maryanne Barnes, she’s the queen of all the acrobats
She can do the tricks that will give the boys the shits
She can shoot green peas from her alimentary orifice
the do a double somersault & catch 'em on her tits.
She’s a great big son-of-a-bitch, twice as big as me
with hair on her ass just like the branches on a tree
she can swim, fight, fish, fuck
fly a plane and drive a truck
That’s the girl that’s gonna mary me!
Though not exactly ribald, I’ve always been partial to “The Handsome Cabin Boy,” an old sea dity re-popularized by Garcia and Grisman on their “Shady Grove” CD.
'Tis the story of a young lass who disguises herself as a boy and is hired by a very married sea captain as his cabin boy. While to sea, the cabin boy gives birth to the sea captain’s son much to the merriment of the doctor and crew and to the dismay of the captain’s wife.
And one for the ladies…
Rugby Men
Rugby men, they play one
Sucking them is like my thumb
Chorus:
With a knick-knack patty whack
Send the boys away
Women’s Rugby’s what we play
Rugby men, they play two
They can’t get it up to screw
Rugby men, they play three
They can’t get enough of me
Rugby men, they play four
They can’t get it up to score
Rugby men, they play five
They can’t fuck to save their lives
Rugby men, they play six
(screamed) LITTLE MEN WITH LITTLE DICKS!
Rugby men, they play seven
When we fuck them, they’re in heaven
Rugby men, they play eight
(screamed) WE WOULD RATHER MASTURBATE!
Rugby men, they play nine
They can’t get it up in time
Rugby men, they play ten
(screamed) FUCK THEM ONCE BUT NEVER AGAIN!
Ohhhhhhh…
First trip up the Michigan river, first trip up the Michigan shore
There I met the Mistress Flanagan, otherwise known as the Winnipeg whore
Some were drunk and some were drinking, some were lying on the floor
But I was over in the corner, screwing the hell out of that Winnipeg whore!