Bagpipe Music (Laurence Hughes): Difference between revisions

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{{Text|English}}
{{Text|English}}
<poem>
<poem>
I.
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at "The Traveller's Rest",
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
II.
It's no go the merry-go-round, it's no go the rickshaw  
It's no go the merry-go-round, it's no go the rickshaw  
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow,

Revision as of 10:05, 3 May 2009

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  • CPDL #949: Icon_pdf.gif Icon_snd.gif
Editor: Laurence Hughes (submitted 2000-06-12).   Score information: 1768 kbytes   Copyright: Personal
Edition notes: Begins on page 7.

General Information

Title: Bagpipe Music
Composer: Laurence Hughes
Lyricist: Louis MacNeicecreate page

Number of voices: 3vv   Voicing: SSA

Genre: Secular, Partsong

Language: English
Instruments: Piano
Published: composer

Description: #2 of 'Two Partsongs for Upper Voices'

External websites:

Original text and translations

English.png English text

It's no go the merry-go-round, it's no go the rickshaw
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow,
Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,
Kept its bones for dumbbells to use when he was fifty.

It's no go the Yogi-man, it's no go Blavatsky,
All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.

Annie MacDougall went to milk, caught her foot in the heather,
Woke to hear a dance record playing of Old Vienna.
It's no go your maidenheads, it's no go your culture,
All we want is a Dunlop tire and the devil mend the puncture.

The Laird o' Phelps spent Hogmanay declaring he was sober,
Counted his feet to prove the fact and found he had one foot over.
Mrs. Carmichael had her fifth, looked at the job with repulsion,
Said to the midwife "Take it away; I'm through with overproduction."

It's no go the gossip column, it's no go the Ceilidh,
All we want is a mother's help and a sugar-stick for the baby.

Willie Murray cut his thumb, couldn't count the damage,
Took the hide of an Ayrshire cow and used it for a bandage.
His brother caught three hundred cran when the seas were lavish,
Threw the bleeders back in the sea and went upon the parish.

It's no go the Herring Board, it's no go the Bible,
All we want is a packet of fags when our hands are idle.

It's no go the picture palace, it's no go the stadium,
It's no go the country cot with a pot of pink geraniums,
It's no go the Government grants, it's no go the elections,
Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.

It's no go my honey love, it's no go my poppet;
Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the profit.
The glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall forever,
But if you break the bloody glass you won't hold up the weather.

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