Author Topic: Poetry collection  (Read 240291 times)

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #210 on: April 03, 2015, 03:07:56 AM »
Pg. 295

Ignorance is Bliss

So Reynir stumbles onward on his trip,
Overwhelmed by the many people he sees.
Seeking a method for more travel, a ship.
This opportunity seemingly taken with ease.

Geography seems not to be his strong suit.
Nor does he seem to be that astute.
The place he thinks of has not high degrees.
Neither does Denmark have any palm trees.

Happy to think of sun, sea and sand.
However that was not that sort of place.
With limited knowledge, he does not understand.
And a blissfully ignorant look on his face.

----------------------------------------------------------

Mr Travelling Man (based on Mr Tambourine Man by Bob Dylan)

Hey, Mr Travelling Man, where you gonna be?
You're not sleepy and there is no place you're going to
Hey, Mr Travelling Man, what'll you go see?
In the bright and early morning you'll go travellin' through.

And you know that Bornholm Denmark is a bright sunny land
With palm trees and warm sand, you left blindly here to stand
But still not sleeping
Your excitement amazes thee, you're running on your feet
You have no one to meet, and the modern busy street's
Too full for dreaming.

Hey, Mr Travelling Man, where you gonna be?
You're not sleepy and there is no place you're going to
Hey, Mr Travelling Man, what'll you go see?
In the bright and early morning you'll go travellin' through.

Take you on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship
Your senses have been stripped, your hands can't feel to grip
Your toes too numb to step, wait only for your boot heels
To be wanderin'
You're ready to go anywhere, you're ready for today
Into your own escape, cast your running spell that way
You promised to go get to it.

Hey, Mr Travelling Man, where you gonna be?
You're not sleepy and there is no place you're going to
Hey, Mr Travelling Man, what'll you go see?
In the bright and early morning you'll go travellin' through.

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin' swingin' madly across the sun
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your travelling in time, it's just a ragged town behind
You wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow
You're knowin' that they're chasing.

Hey, Mr Travelling Man, where you gonna be?
You're not sleepy and there is no place you're going to
Hey, Mr Travelling Man, what'll you go see?
In the bright and early morning you'll go travellin' through.

Then take you disappearin' through the smoke rings of your mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the blowing sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let you forget about today until tomorrow.

Hey, Mr Travelling Man, where you gonna be?
You're not sleepy and there is no place you're going to
Hey, Mr Travelling Man, what'll you go see?
In the bright and early morning you'll go travellin' through.

Will he realise he's made a mistake,
Or will he just go along with the flow?
This could turn out a rather long break.
Especially with the rest of the team he's forced to go.
« Last Edit: April 03, 2015, 03:54:13 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

Brandenfascher

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #211 on: April 03, 2015, 11:05:43 AM »
"What does the note say?"

Page 274, parody of first stanza of "What does the fox say?"

------------------------------------------------------

Book goes "shump", pad goes "bap"
Memos "swheep", and fliers "fleep"
Pamphlets "clump". Card goes "tip", and the resume goes "flap".
Napkins "fluff" and labels "flip", and the stickers "stick-stick-stick".
But there's one sound that no one knows...
What does the note say?
Fluent: :usa:
Lightly dabbled in (read: "mostly forgotten"): :germany::france:
:hat:

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #212 on: April 04, 2015, 01:27:36 PM »
Pg 295

“Old Bornholm”
from “Kokomo”
by the Beach Boys

Away from
The sheep farm
What
Could be the great harm?
And into
The wide world
Vast
Horizons unfurled
So where will
I go first?
I’m so
Glad I might burst
To Bornholm!

I can’t wait to go see
This new place called Old Bornholm
Southernmost settlement
The Danish paradise home

Unfamiliar land
Colorful flowers and
Sweet warm sand

Warmth and sun
All year long
Fills my heart with songs
Of foreign lands
All down in Old Bornholm

Away from
The sheep farm
What
Could be the great harm of
My leaving
To wander
Free
To roam out yonder
So where will
I go first?
I’m so
(It looks)
Glad I might burst
(Like I’m going)
Off to Old Bornholm
It seems that’s where
The Fates want me to roam
So now that
I’ve left home
I’ll go to Old Bornholm
So far
So good
Let all be as it should

Setting out to sea
On the good ship Túnfiskurinn
And I’m sure I will find
It’s all my dreams have shown to me

I can hardly wait
So soon I’ll
Find my fate

So far away
From my ken
It should be perfect
To fill my yen
To go to Old Bornholm

Away from
The sheep farm
What
Could be the great harm of
My leaving
To wander
Free
To roam out yonder
So where will
I go first?
I’m so
(It looks)
Glad I might burst
(Like I’m going)
Off to Old Bornholm
It seems that’s where
The Fates want me to roam
So now that
I’ve left home
I’ll go to Old Bornholm
So far
So good
Let all be as it should

[Musical interlude]

Want to see it all
But it is best to start out small
And when I’m past this wall
I’ll go to that port-of-call
They call it Old Bornholm

Away from
The sheep farm
What
Could be the great harm of
My leaving
To wander
Free
To roam out yonder
So where will
I go first?
I’m so
(It looks)
Glad I might burst
(Like I’m going)
Off to Old Bornholm
It seems that’s where
The Fates want me to roam
So now that
I’ve left home
I’ll go to Old Bornholm

Away from
The sheep farm
What
Could be the great harm of
My leaving
To wander
Free
To roam out yonder
So where will
I go first?
I’m so
(It looks)
Glad I might burst
(Like I’m going)
Off to Old Bornholm
It seems that’s where
The Fates want me to roam
So now that
I’ve left home
I’ll go to Old Bornholm

Viisikielinenkantele

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #213 on: April 04, 2015, 03:34:16 PM »
Page 295

Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que será, será) by Doris Day

When I was just a little boy
I asked my parents, What will life be?
Will there be journeys? Will there be gest?
Here's what they said to me:

O beware, beware
The Silent World will be there
This world is not yours to see
O beware beware
It´s not yours to see

Then I grew up and still was home
I asked my brother what there´s to see
Are there big cities, can I go there?
Here's what my brother said:

There is Reykjavik
It´s safe and it´s fairly big
You could come and see the sights
And then go back home

Now I am standing here alone
And I am thinking where will I go?
It will be Bornholm and with some luck
I will return back home

O beware, beware
The Silent World will be there
This world is not yours to see
O beware beware
It´s not yours to see
Native: :germany:
Mostly fluent: :uk: / :usa:
Rusty: :finland:
almost forgotten: :italy:, :estonia:, :vaticancity:
learning: :sweden:

"People may say I can't sing, but no one can ever say I didn't sing." (Florence Foster Jenkins)

:chap5: :chap6:  :chap7: :chap8: :chap9: :chap10: :chap11: :chap12:

slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #214 on: April 04, 2015, 06:40:48 PM »
page 295

This is my tribute to one of the best songwriters of the 20th century (in my opinion), Al Stewart (yeah, the "Year of the Cat" guy).  If you didn't care for that song, don't let it stop you from listening to this one.  The original is "Roads to Moscow", one of his lesser known works.  I understand if you don't want to work through a filk of a song you don't know.  If not, give a listen to the original anyway, it's based on the experiences of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. 
/>
The first verse starts during the prologue.  The last verse would take place around page 217.

Disclaimer:  No Danes were harmed during the writing of this filk.

ROADS TO KASTRUP
or
The Story of the Danes as told by Mikkel

They crossed over the border the hour before dawn
Eleven in all, so they say
Every last one of them sick by the end of the day

The rash traveled quickly, our world overwhelmed
Most people carried away
Bodies abandoned, they stayed on the ground where they lay

Then we heard tales that the dead were not dying
Just rumors, we knew
Creatures from nightmares, devouring, hunting
It cannot be true

And all that we ever
Were able to hear
The screams in the night and the shouting
And running and panic and fear

Lines of survivors, we moved towards the coast
Walking in groups through the day
Huddled and hunted, at night some were stolen away

With pitchforks and axes we made our way through
Scavenging all of the way
Fighting and hiding, our numbers were whittled away

Winter brought cold and snow, the trolls disappeared underground
We stocked up our boats then, by springtime we must not be found

And all that we ever
Were able to see
Our homes standing silent, abandoned
We made our escape by the sea

(Ah, Ah, Ah) [x4]

For eighty years we helped to clear the cities and the forests of the north land
Dreaming of our homes and those still isolated farming on our island
By day we moved from street to street and cleaned those bits and pieces in the forest
By night the cats and scouts stood sentry, guarding us from monsters in the darkness
You never see, you never hear, you never know, which way to look,
you never see them
All the time we gained in skills and numbers, building up an army to return home

The day had come, our waiting done, tomorrow we're returning
We formed in lines in the darkness there, our torches brightly burning

We crossed over Oresund the hour before dawn
Decades of promise fulfilled
We took up positions by squads at the top of the hill

A gentle breeze carried the promise of Spring
Whispering over the hills
The cats were unsettled, below us the city was still

They came with the darkness in numbers uncounted with barely a sound
We hunters were hunted, they moved to our flanks, we can't slow them down

And all that I ever
Was able to see
The fire of the guns in the darkness
And strange silhouettes through the trees

(Ah. Ah, Ah) [x4]

'The radios aren't working for the static, we can't talk, the base can't hear us
We'll never hold, we'll never last without more men, we have to have more ammunition
The beasts are moving left and right to cut us off, we had to close the tunnel
Bring us aid please if you can!' and then I ran and scrambled heedless down the ladder
I spun the wheel and closed the bolts, my stumbling footfalls echoed in the darkness
In failing light and failing hope, the sound of gunfire fading in the distance

I cannot say what I feel today, on this dawn so like the other
The wind is soft, the guns are still, and below the city slumbers
I don't know when we'll be home again, but I won't see it, ever
The breezes sigh, and the silent earth and skies go on forever...

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #215 on: April 05, 2015, 11:30:58 PM »
Pg. 296

Clean Break

Reynir said that he didn't even need to be paid.
They however said they had all hands on deck.
However considering if the cook had some aid,
He'd be less of a pain in the neck.

So he gets on the ship with minimal fuss,
Washing the dirty plates that he's dished.
Although there was a small problem to discuss.
They won't let him off there as he wished.

Now he was on the ship cleaning the plates.
He thought he was pretty smart there, you see.
If he hadn't been stuck inside the crate,
He might have been stuck there permanently.

---------------------------------------------

I Wanna Be On Board (based on I Wanna Be Adored by The Stone Roses)

I don't have to work for pay
Don't want any money
I don't need to work for pay
Don't want any money

I wanna be on board
I wanna be on board

I don't have to work for pay
Don't want any money
I don't need to work for pay
Don't want any money

I wanna be on board
I wanna be on board

On board

I wanna be on board
You won't pay me
You won't pay me
You won't pay me
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be on board
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be on board
I wanna
I wanna
I wanna be on board
I wanna
I wanna
I gotta be on board

I wanna be on board

« Last Edit: April 05, 2015, 11:57:42 PM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #216 on: April 06, 2015, 08:32:20 PM »
Pg 294
“A Mother’s Lament”
from “The Fisherman’s Song” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iC1ZY8SC4ew
by Silly Wizard

O’er a wide white oak table
A woman is crying
Strands of grey mixed with gold
In her hair
And behind her bent form stands
Her russet-haired husband
But for now she can find no
Comfort there

For she has just read
A note that starts, “Forgive me”
And tells how her young Reynir
Has fled
He has gone to the seashore
And means to go exploring
Leaving them to fear that
He’ll be dead

Her dear boy, her youngest
The only non-immune
Held at home while the
Other four roamed
Now she prayed to the gods
All of them, and in order
That her Reynir might find
A safe way home

For she has just read
A note that starts, “Forgive me”
And tells how her young Reynir
Has fled
He has gone to the seashore
And means to go exploring
Leaving them to fear that
He’ll be dead

[Instrumental interlude]

There’s a pasture of sheep now
Awaiting their shepherd
Knowing not that they wait
In vain
Nor can they hear the heartbreak
Of Reynir’s dear parents
Who don’t know if they’ll see
Him again

For she has just read
A note that starts, “Forgive me”
And tells how her young Reynir
Has fled
He has gone to the seashore
And means to go exploring
Leaving them to fear that
He’ll be dead

Wherefore did he flee?
Whither hath he departed?
And when shall he come home
Again?
These and more nightmare worries
Will torment his fam’ly
As the answers are quite
Past their ken

For she has just read
A note that starts, “Forgive me”
And tells how her young Reynir
Has fled
He has gone to the seashore
And means to go exploring
Leaving them to fear that
He’ll be dead

[Instrumental postlude]

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #217 on: April 07, 2015, 08:39:01 AM »
Pg 297

Box it, Exit.

All paths are closed,
No going ashore.
Don't whine, stay composed.
And go work some more.

This is your life now.
You can't leave the ship.
No sir, no way, no how.
This isn't a pleasure trip.

Veg you must peel.
Such a long chore.
Not a great deal.
Stuck on this sea tour.

Supplies workers' talks.
Opportunity knocks.
Clever, a red fox,
Slips into the box.

Now we know the story,
The braidy crate cram.
As again we see the glory
Of the final grand slam.

-----------------------

Braid in Box (based on Long Live Rock by The Who)

Down inside the Tuna Fish the mood was changing
Peeling potatoes no shore leave arranging
He thought that he was so clever on that boat
And found the chances to the shore remote
Meanwhile they weren't ready for the shocks
Starve to death, they say
Braid in box.

Braid in box, they need to eat food tonight
Braid in box, come on and move supplies
Braid in box, the unfortunate surprise

People walk in buildings pretending they're not stealing
They put on their rifles and work out all the ways in
Medic in the storage holding candles all with cats on
The team were going hungry wondering where the food's gone
At both radios, operators have their talks
Starve to death, they say
Long live rock

Braid in box, they need to eat food tonight
Braid in box, come on and move supplies
Braid in box, the unfortunate surprise

Explode, bricks are falling
Falling down 'round our very heads
We tried but you were yawning
Look again, trolls are dead, trolls are dead, trolls are dead

To call this captain to create an extra trip
And give them some food supplies from off of that ship
In the distance they delivered crates in style
After the crates were open nobody dared to smile
Someone took cans out and climbed into the box
Starve to death, they say
Braid in box, braid in box, braid in box

Braid in box, braid in box, braid in box
Braid in box, braid in box, braid in box

Braid in box, they need to eat food tonight
Braid in box, come on and move supplies
Braid in box, the unfortunate surprise
« Last Edit: April 07, 2015, 11:44:05 AM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

Viisikielinenkantele

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #218 on: April 07, 2015, 04:38:25 PM »
Page 297

Based on Living In A Box by Living in a box

I just decided
that I chance my luck
Going in there
I feel excited
And I know that I´m stuck
In the crate here

I´ve found a way to go
debark this silly fish ship
And I think this will work
I am awesome

Am I leaving in a crate
Am I leaving in a tuna-crate
Am I leaving in a crate
Am I leaving in a tuna-crate
Am I leaving in a crate

And now I huddle here
inside between cans
Jubilation!
I`m really happy
there´s moving outside, yeah!
I´m escaping!

I´ve found a way to go
debark this silly fish ship
And I think this will work
I am awesome

Am I leaving in a tuna crate
Am I leaving in a crate (leaving)
Am I leaving in a tuna crate
Am I leaving in a crate (leaving)
Am I leaving in a tuna crate
Am I leaving in a crate (leaving)
Am I leaving in a tuna crate
Am I leaving am I leaving am I leaving
Am I leaving am I living am I leaving
(In a crate)

...
« Last Edit: April 08, 2015, 04:32:52 PM by Viisikielinenkantele »
Native: :germany:
Mostly fluent: :uk: / :usa:
Rusty: :finland:
almost forgotten: :italy:, :estonia:, :vaticancity:
learning: :sweden:

"People may say I can't sing, but no one can ever say I didn't sing." (Florence Foster Jenkins)

:chap5: :chap6:  :chap7: :chap8: :chap9: :chap10: :chap11: :chap12:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #219 on: April 08, 2015, 12:55:56 PM »
Pg. 298

Wasted Words

Lalli stares still at his face.
As Reynir's story is laid out.
Mikkel, as he's leaving spouts:
"We could eat you, in the worst case."

Shouting at the top of her breath,
Meanwhile Sigrun not a happy lady.
She knows what to do with the braidy.
Just send him out to his troll death.

Trond meanwhile sits, disappointment he feels.
More problems arise, winter soon on the land.
Leaning and holding his head in his hand.
"More blackmail wasted on this group of imbeciles."

--------------------------------------------------------------

You've Got Another Thing Comin' by Judas Priest (with a few small changes)

One life I'm gonna rip him up
I'm takin' flight said we'll not eat enough
Stand tall I'm seething angry now
I'm not letting him stay and that's my vow

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by
You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die
Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had
If you think I'll let him stay you're mad
You've got another thing comin'

That's right here's where the talkin' ends
Well listen this night there'll be some action spent
Drive hard I'm callin' all the shots
I got a dead corpse comin' down on the rocks

If you think I'll sit around while he eats all of my food
Listen I ain't foolin' and either way he's screwed
Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had
If you think I'll let him stay you're mad
You've got another thing comin'

In this world we're livin' in we have our share of sorrow
Answer now is don't let him stay on until tomorrow.

Oh so hot no time to take a rest yeah
That's tough ain't room for second best
Real strong got me some security
Hey I'm the lead lass I'll put him back out to sea yeah
« Last Edit: April 08, 2015, 01:23:10 PM by corncobman »
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

Viisikielinenkantele

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #220 on: April 08, 2015, 04:29:57 PM »
Page 298

Based on Light My Fire by The Doors

You see that she is deep in ire
You think that you will hide in here
Until her screaming tantrum lasts
Still, stay silent while she blasts

Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Try to set this boy on fire

The time to scare this fool is now
You are in charge and this is how
All know that you are burning fire
And your rage become a funeral pyre

Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Try to set Reynir on fire, yeah

We stand in awe at your fierce soul
You will be our leading role
All know that you have viking blood
We kneel before you in the mud

Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Try to set Mikkel on fire, yeah

I know that it would be the truth
I someone says that you´re a lion
If I was to speak to you
I know, I couldn't get much higher

Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Come on, Sigrun, light your fire
Try to set this boy on fire
Try to set the night on fire
Try to set the cat on fire
Try to set the crate on fire
Native: :germany:
Mostly fluent: :uk: / :usa:
Rusty: :finland:
almost forgotten: :italy:, :estonia:, :vaticancity:
learning: :sweden:

"People may say I can't sing, but no one can ever say I didn't sing." (Florence Foster Jenkins)

:chap5: :chap6:  :chap7: :chap8: :chap9: :chap10: :chap11: :chap12:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #221 on: April 09, 2015, 05:11:41 AM »
Raging Woman based on Devil Woman (lyrics by Terry Britten and Christine Holmes sung by Cliff Richard)

I've had nothing but bad luck
Since the day I saw the hair at my door
So I came here to you, sweet lady
Answering your mystical call
Crystal knife on the table
Showing the future, the past
Same Norse with them angry eyes
And I knew with her I wouldn't last.

[Chorus]
She's just a raging woman
With anger in her eyes
Beware the Sigrun woman
She's gonna get you
She's just an angry woman
With killing on her mind
Beware the Sigrun woman
She's gonna get you from behind.

Give me the ring on your finger
Let me see the lines of your hand
I can see me a tall pale stranger
Giving you what you hadn't planned
I took the mission she offered me
I found myself on the floor
Then I looked in those big troll eyes
And I wondered what I came there for.

[Chorus])

Stay awake, look out
If you're out on a moonlit night
Be careful of the neighborhood strays
Of a lady with short red hair
Tryin' to win you with her awesomest ways
Crystal ball on the table
Showing the future, the past
Same Norse with them angry eyes
You'd better get out of there fast

She's just a raging woman
With anger in her eyes
Beware that Sigrun woman
She's gonna get you.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

corncobman

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #222 on: April 09, 2015, 09:23:41 AM »
Pg. 299

Breaking the Ice

End of the chapter, a short one at that.
Soon time for a short chapter break to occur.
Tuuri looks nervously at the stranger who's sat.
While he nervously looks right back at her.

Is Mikkel right now calming Sigrun who's annoyed.
Perhaps trying to placate his dear lead.
Rather than having him be a troll decoy,
They'll find for him a future use to proceed?

Emil sitting and pondering his snafu,
And Lalli still stares at the braid.
An introduction perhaps overdue,
And then on with the mission delayed.
A man left his Icelandic home
Escaped to Denmark to freely roam
With hair braided red
He got hit on the head
With a crate lid slammed onto his dome

Fluent: :uk:
Fluent spoken, bad writing: :china:
Some knowledge: :france: :germany:
Odd word here and there: :japan:

slim kittens

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #223 on: April 09, 2015, 02:31:25 PM »
page 297

ATTENTION VIISIKIELINENKANTELE:
You thought your parody of "Que Será Será" was silly?  Get a load of this:

Just straight up rock and roll, courtesy of Rick Springfield:
/>For our still-missing crew member.

REYNIR'S CAT

Reynir is a derp
I know he's just another mouth to feed
But lately something's changed
It ain't hard to define
Reynir's got himself a cat
And I want to make it mine

And it's watching him with those eyes
And it's laying on his stomach, I just know it!
And he's holding it purring in his arms late at night

You know I wish that I had Reynir's cat
I wish that I had Reynir's cat
Where can I find a kitty like that?

Gotta play it cool
Take my time and play the waiting game
I know that trail I left of kitty num nums will work
That lucky cat will wise up and abandon that jerk

And it's rubbing on his legs
And it's playing with his braid, I just know it!
And rolling on it's side late, late at night

You know I wish that I had Reynir's cat
I wish that I had Reynir's cat
Where can I find a kitty like that?

Like Reynir's cat
I wish that I had Reynir's cat
Where can I find a kitty
Where can I find a kitty like that?

And I'm lookin' for the kitty all the time
Wonderin' where on earth it could be
How long, how long before it tires of the whine
Abandons Carrot Top and comes to me?

Tell me where can I find a kitty like that

You know I wish that I had Reynir's cat
I wish that I had Reynir's cat
I want Reynir's cat
Where can I find a kitty like that?
Like Reynir's cat

I wish that I had Reynir's cat
I want, I want Reynir's cat

LooNEY_DAC

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Re: Poetry collection
« Reply #224 on: April 09, 2015, 10:35:05 PM »
Pg 299

“A Wand’ring Shepherd”
from “The Lonely Goatherd” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRo0NlLYvwE
by R. Rogers & O. Hammerstein

Out from the farm
Came a wand’ring shepherd
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
Off on a lark
Once he got the good word
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Many are they
Think he’s like a dotard
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
But he got through
And meander’d boat-ward
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Oh, ho!
Braidy’s name is Reynir
Oh, ho!
And he’s come to stay
Oh, ho!
Braidy’s name is Reynir
And he came to us to stay

A newbie he was
And they thought him wayward
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
But then they thought
Some free help they could afford
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Off to Bornholm
Like a swift old seabird
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
They wouldn’t land
Was the bad news he heard
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Out to the quay
Went our team ’cause they’d heard
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
Their new supplies
Would be there was the word
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Up from the crate
Sprang a quite lost shepherd
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
But Emil slammed
Him down without a word
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

[Musical interlude]

And Emil (And Emil)
Called to Sigrun (Called to Sigrun)
“There’s a guy in here!” (“There’s a guy in here!”)
Sigrun flipped out

Oh, ho, ho, ho
Braidy’s name is Reynir
Our Braidy’s name is Reynir
And he’s come to stay
Oh, ho, ho, ho
Braidy’s name is Reynir
And he came to us to stay

Out to the quay
Went our team ’cause they’d heard
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
Their new supplies
Would be there was the word
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Up from the crate
Sprang a quite lost shepherd
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
But Emil slammed
Him down without a word
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Now Braidy’s here
And his name is Reynir
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh!
And our dear team
Is at last complete with
Braidy, oh the Braidy, oh di oh!

Though Sigrun
Doesn’t want him (Doesn’t want him)
Well they’re stuck with him (Well they’re stuck with him)
Rage though she may (Rage though she may)

Now our shepherd’s in a fix (Now our shepherd’s in a fix)
And with Lalli in the mix (And with Lalli in the mix)
And now Emil caught betwixt (And now Emil caught betwixt)
Reynir wishes he had never gone away
DUH!