Lyrics: Bryony Lavery
Music: Jessica Higgs
Songs performed by: Buffy Davis, Su Elliot, Sally Greenwood and Pippa Sparkes
Piano and flute: Jessica Higgs
Reproduced here courtesy of Buffy Davis Su Elliot, Jessica Higgs, Pippa Sparkes in memory of their dear friend, Sally Greenwood.
Eine Kleine Woodlouse (after Brecht/Weil)
No turkey, no chicken, no duck, no goose,
No capon, no pigeon, no quail, no grouse.
Who can afford the birds of the air,
All we can afford is the lowly woodlouse.
Eine kleine woodlouse, Johnny,
Eine kleine woodlouse you rat,
Eine kleine woodlouse, Johnny,
Take that woodlouse
Out of your mouth, you rat.
No turkey, no chicken, no duck, no goose,
No capon, no pigeon, no quail, no grouse,
While the rich eat their roast bird at Christmas
Us canon fodder, we eat woodlouse.
Eine kleine woodlouse, Johnny,
Eine kleine woodlouse you rat,
Eine kleine woodlouse, Johnny,
Take that woodlouse
Out of your mouth, you rat.
Wilkommen poverty,
Glucklich zu sehen, unemployment.
Eine kleine woodlouse, danke schon,
Maggie the knife!
The Manicurist
Every Sunday off I go to Downing Street,
Number Ten.
I sneak in do a little job,
And then sneak out again.
I am the Manicurist,
Je suis la Manicuriste,
Ich bin die Manicurist,
At Number Ten.
Thatcher’s finger nails grow
Eighteen inches every week.
Her toe nails grow even longer –
They’re growing as I speak.
I am the Manicurist,
Je suis la Manicuriste,
Ich bin die Manicurist,
At Number Ten.
There is a chair
At Number Ten Downing Street
That is entirely stuffed
With nail clippings
From Thatcher’s hands,
From Thatcher’s feet –
I cut her nails
(Her hands are claws)
I cut her nails
(Her feet are claws).
I sometimes get to sit upon the chair,
I feel her nails dig in, everywhere.
I am the Manicurist,
Je suis la Manicuriste,
Ich bin die Manicurist,
At Number Ten.
Wandsworth Eleison
Wandsworth,
Wandsworth,
Wandsworth,
Wandsworth eleison (etc),
Wandsworth eleison.
Yuppies resquiescant in Wandworth
Wine bars requiescant in Wandsworth
Shopping precincts floriant in Wandsworth
Wandsworth eleison.
Let there be weeping, wailing, crying,
The Wandsworth we know is dying.
Rigor mortis Wandsworth,
Wandsworth eleison.
Per ardua ad astra
Ars longa vita brevis
Res non verbam
Wandsworth eleison,
Wandsworth eleison.
The Newt
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a
Newt.
The newt
Is a handsome brute.
The newt,
The newt,
The newt sans doute
Is the colour of unripe fruit.
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a
Newt.
The newt,
The newt as a pet will suit.
You can
Keep it in a suit,
No problem with fur,
It’s as bald as a coot.
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a,
As pissed as a
Newt.
The newt,
The newt I don’t give a hoot.
No problem with air,
If you want to mute the toot,
You can stick it up your flute.
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