              ROWDY SONGS NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN 
              OR SMALL DOGS!
                            -transcribed by Ioseph of Locksley
                             All lyrics Public Domain/ NO copyright!


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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 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!



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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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                         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!

                   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!

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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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                        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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                           THE GOOD SHIP VENUS
                                   -Anonymous

                It was on the good ship Venus
                My God, you should have seen us!
                The figurehead was a whore in bed,
                And the mast, an upright penis!

                The Captain of this lugger
                He was a dirty bugger!
                He wasn't fit to shovel shit
                From one place to another!

                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 cabin boy, the cabin boy,
                The dirty little nipper;
                He filled his ass with broken glass,
                And circumcised the Skipper!

                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!

                One day the good ship foundered
                On crags our bags were pound(er)ed
                We stubbed our cocks against the rocks,
                And then, we all were drownd(er)ed!

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                             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......

                        (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 *


                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
        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.







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                         THE SEXUAL LIFE OF THE CAMEL 
                                           -Anonymous

                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!


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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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