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Category: Sing a Song of Sixpence (Page 1 of 2)

The much-detested, waste of space place for song lyrics and commentary

Sing a Song of Sixpence #12

I watched them dance last night.

All of these kids in their flashy matching costumes, dancing these carefully choreographed routines while the audience whistled and clapped their approval, it brought back so many memories.

At every performance, there is always that one performance that sticks with you. Once upon a time it was three girls in top hats strutting their stuff to Steam Heat, and after that, a small troupe that twisted and contorted to Dave Brubeck’s Take Five.

Last night it was Little Boxes.

Little Boxes
Malvina Reynolds

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky,
Little boxes, little boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All go to the university,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers
And business executives,
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf-course,
And drink their Martini dry,
And they all have pretty children,
And the children go to school.
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
And they all get put in boxes
And they all come out the same.

And the boys go into business,
And marry, and raise a family,
And they all get put in boxes,
Little boxes, all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.

At first the sound irked me, but there is something in there that just works. Listen here, but be warned it is mildly ‘yowling cat’.

Sing A Song Of Sixpence #11

I believe this song is written and performed by the Barrow Poets, but unfortunately I can’t find a solid reference to them anywhere :( Apparently they were a comedy theatre group in 1977.

Oh well, enjoy the lyrics anyway :)

The Pheasant Plucking Song
as performed by Barrow Poets

Me husband is a keeper, he’s a very busy man,
I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
All alone and plucking pheasants when I’d rather pluck with him.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s mate
And I’m only plucking pheasants
Cos the pheasant plucker’s late.

I’m not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
Though some peasants find it pleasant I’d much rather pluck a duck,
Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven’t any grease.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
He has gone out on the tiles,
He only plucked one pheasant
And I’m sitting here with piles.

You have to pluck them fresh, if they’re fresh it’s not unpleasant,
I knew a man in Dunstable, could pluck a frozen pheasant.
They say the village constable has pheasant plucking sessions
With the vicar of a Sunday ‘twixt the first and second lessons.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s son,
And I’m only plucking pheasants
Till the pheasant plucker’s come.

My good friend Godfrey’s most adept, he’s really got the knack,
He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
I try and lend a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
It’s really all this pheasant plucking keeps us here together.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s friend,
And I’m only plucking pheasants
As a means unto an end.

Me husband’s in the woods all day, a-banging with his gun,
If he could hear me heartfelt cries, then surely he would run,
For I’ve fluff in all me crannies and there’s feathers up me nose,
And I’m itchin’ in the kitchin’ from me head down to me toes.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s wife,
And when we pluck together
It’s a pheasant plucking life!

Sing A Song Of Sixpence #9

Sometimes you ignore songs.

It isn’t because they are bad, just because they sound remarkably like they are going to be the same old pop drivel as last week.

There are still songwriters out there with a bit of soul left in them. You just have to look.

I Wish I Was a Punk Rocker (with Flowers In My Hair)

Sandi Thom

[Chorus:]
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair
In ’77 and ’69 revolution was in the air
I was born too late into a world that doesn’t care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

When the head of state didn’t play guitar
Not everybody drove a car
When music really mattered and when radio was king
When accountants didn’t have control
And the media couldn’t buy your soul
And computers were still scary and we didn’t know everything

[Chorus]

When pop stars still remained a myth
And ignorance could still be bliss
And when god saved the queen she turned a whiter shade of pale
My mom and dad were in their teens
And anarchy was still a dream
And the only way to stay in touch was a letter in the mail

[Chorus]

When record shops were still on top
And vinyl was all that they stocked
And the super info highway was still drifting out in space
Kids were wearing hand me downs
And playing games meant kick arounds
And footballers still had long hair and dirt across their face

[Chorus]

I was born too late into a world that doesn’t care
Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

And because I can, the link to her video clip on YouTube :)

Sing a song of sixpence #8

Sometimes a song just makes you sit up and take notice. Every time I hear this one my heart fills with hope and promise in that special cliched way. Sometimes you just have to smile.
Why Walk When You Can Fly

Mary Chapin Carpenter

In this world there’s a whole lot of trouble, baby
In this world there’s a whole lot of pain
In this world there’s a whole lot of trouble
But a whole lot of ground to gain
Why take when you could be giving, why watch as the world goes by
It’s a hard enough life to be living, why walk when you can fly

In this world there’s a whole lot of sorrow
In this world there’s a whole lot of shame
In this world there’s a whole lot of sorrow
And a whole lotta ground to gain
When you spend your whole life wishing, wanting and wondering why
It’s a long enough life to be living, why walk when you can fly

In this world there’s a whole lot of cold
In this world there’s a whole lot of blame
In this world you’ve a soul for a compass
And a heart for a pair of wings
There’s a star on the far horizon, rising bright in an azure sky
For the rest of the time that you’re given, why walk when you can fly

Sing A Song Of Sixpence #11

I believe this song is written and performed by the Barrow Poets, but unfortunately I can’t find a solid reference to them anywhere :( Apparently they were a comedy theatre group in 1977.

Oh well, enjoy the lyrics anyway :)

The Pheasant Plucking Song

Me husband is a keeper, he’s a very busy man,
I try to understand him and I help him all I can,
But sometimes of an evening I feel a trifle dim,
All alone and plucking pheasants when I’d rather pluck with him.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s mate
And I’m only plucking pheasants
Cos the pheasant plucker’s late.

I’m not good at plucking pheasants, pheasant plucking I get stuck,
Though some peasants find it pleasant I’d much rather pluck a duck,
Oh, but plucking geese is gorgeous, I can pluck a goose with ease
But plucking pheasants is sheer torture, for they haven’t any grease.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
He has gone out on the tiles,
He only plucked one pheasant
And I’m sitting here with piles.

You have to pluck them fresh, if they’re fresh it’s not unpleasant,
I knew a man in Dunstable, could pluck a frozen pheasant.
They say the village constable has pheasant plucking sessions
With the vicar of a Sunday ‘twixt the first and second lessons.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s son,
And I’m only plucking pheasants
Till the pheasant plucker’s come.

My good friend Godfrey’s most adept, he’s really got the knack,
He likes to have a pheasant plucked before he hits the sack.
I try and lend a helping hand, I gather up the feathers,
It’s really all this pheasant plucking keeps us here together.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s friend,
And I’m only plucking pheasants
As a means unto an end.

Me husband’s in the woods all day, a-banging with his gun,
If he could hear me heartfelt cries, then surely he would run,
For I’ve fluff in all me crannies and there’s feathers up me nose,
And I’m itchin’ in the kitchin’ from me head down to me toes.

I’m not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s wife,
And when we pluck together
It’s a pheasant plucking life!

Sing a Seasonal Song of Sixpence

I couldn’t find a page for this, but if anyone DOES find the official site, let me know :)
This is a song written years back by two blokes that just ooze ‘Aussie’. In a good way of course, not like slime ooze or anything ikky like that.
This song reminds me of ‘carols by candlelight’ as a kid, and the way that everyone would mumble the verses and sing the chorus loud and clear :)

There is something about getting together with your neighbours, playing with fire and singing emotive songs. I’m not sure what it is, but it comes very close to magic.
Ahh, nostalgic moment :)

Aussie Jingle Bells
Dashing through the bush in a rusty Holden ute,
Kicking up the dust, esky in the boot,
Kelpie by my side, singing Christmas songs,
It’s summer time and I am in my singlet, shorts and thongs.

CHORUS: Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer’s day.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden ute.

Engine’s getting hot, dodge the kangaroos,
Swaggy climbs aboard, he is welcome too.
All the family’s there, sitting by the pool,
Christmas day the Aussie way, by the barbecue.

CHORUS: Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer’s day.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden ute.

Come the afternoon, Grandpa has a doze,
The kids and Uncle Bruce are swimming in their clothes,
The time’s come round to go, we take a family snap,
Then pack the car and all shoot through
Before the washing up!

CHORUS: Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer’s day.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, Christmas time is beaut,
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden ute.

This song was written by Greg Champion and Colin Buchanan for a Christmas album they did a few years back, AUSSIE CHRISTMAS WITH BUCKO AND CHAMPS.
If you get the chance to listen to this album, may I recommend Barry the Elf, Carol of the Birds and the very last track of out-takes :)
And if you can’t find this album, there is always Six White boomers on every station at least every hour :)

Sing A Song of Sixpence #7

So, after a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day we drove home. This was playing in the car. I smiled.

It reminded me of a good friend of mine, who has recently decided to throw caution to the wind and follow his heart. He is such a brave one. I am proud to count him amongst my friends. If only the rest of the world were so true to themselves, it might just be a happy place…

It is very almost an insult to post such an old pop song in relation to him, but I do hope that in time, all will be forgiven.

The Longest Time
Billy Joel
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time

If you said goodbye to me tonight
There would still be music left to write
What else could I do
I’m so inspired by you
That hasn’t happened for the longest time

Once I thought my innocence was gone
Now I know that happiness goes on
That’s where you found me
When you put your arms around me
I haven’t been there for the longest time

Oh, oh, oh
For the longest time
Oh, oh, oh
For the longest
I’m that voice you’re hearing in the hall
And the greatest miracle of all
Is how I need you
And how you needed me too
That hasn’t happened for the longest time

Maybe this won’t last very long
But you feel so right
And I could be wrong
Maybe I’ve been hoping too hard
But I’ve gone this far
And it’s more than I hoped for

Who knows how much further we’ll go on
Maybe I’ll be sorry when you’re gone
I’ll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven’t been there for the longest time

I had second thoughts at the start
I said to myself
Hold on to your heart
Now I know the woman that you are
You’re wonderful so far
And it’s more than I hoped for

I don’t care what consequence it brings
I have been a fool for lesser things
I want you so bad
I think you ought to know that
I intend to hold you for the longest time

Sing A Song of Sixpence #6

So, word on the street it that nobody likes reading songs, apparently they only work with music… well, when y’all get your own blogs you are welcome to avoid posting trash. In the meantime, this is one of those put up or shut up deals, sorry, but them’s the breaks boys and girls :lol:

A few years ago, I was given a CD, “Bouncing on the Inside”. The gifter may think I have forgotten about it, but in truth, it is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me. Not easily forgotten. On the front, Pooh Bear images, and on the back, a little story, craftily including all of the song names (Mahnah mahnah would have given him a run for his money…) and a barcode with our names… This song is on that CD.

You
Ten Sharp
It’s all right with me
as long as you
are by my side

Talk or just say nothing
I don’t mind your looks never lie
I was always on the run
finding out what I was looking for

And I was always insecure
just until I found

Words often don’t come easy
I never learned
to show you the inside of me
I know my baby

You were always patient
dragging out what I try to hide

I was always on the run
finding out what I was looking for
and I was always insecure
until I found

You, you were always on my mind
you, you’re the one I’ve been living for
you, you’re my everlasting fire
you’re my always shining star

The night’s always a good friend
a glass of wine, and the lights are low
you lying beside me, me full of love
and filled with hope….

Sing A Song of Sixpence #5

I don’t know, this song has been wanting to be sung all night.
Its not one of my favourites, or even one I have heard more than a handful of times, but it is stuck in my head.

This is an attempt to unstick it.

Adrienne
TheCalling

I’ve been thinking about you, my love
And all the crazy things that you put me through
Now I’m coming around, Throwing it back to you
Were you thinking of me when you kissed him
Could you taste me when you licked his skin
All the while I showerd you with trust and promises
What I’m needing now is some sweet revenge
To get back all that I lost then
I gave you all I had to give, but I could never reach you

Chorus :
Oh, Adrienne, I thought I knew you
Once again, you used me, used me
Adrienne, I should have left you
Long before you used me, Used me up

Spent my money, drove my car
I treated you like a shining star
But in my sky all burnt out you are
And I’ll have the last laugh, when I see you walking with
some other guy
‘Cause I know you’re gonna end up all alone
So take these words, some good advice
All you’ve done’s gonna come back twice
You never cared how much it hurt, I really need to tell you

Chorus

What I’m needing now is some sweet revenge
To get back all that I lost then.
I gave you all that I had to give, but I could never reach you

Chorus

Sing A Song of Sixpence #4

So I thought I’d get in early.

This week has been very interesting. We have started househunting and placed an offer on a property that we like, I have lost a fish that was very special to me, and I have helped teach a class of intellectually disabled kids. All in all, not your ordinary week!

There has been some interesting things going on in the virtual world too. I have relaxed my hold on some things, and had to reach out and grab at others. One thing even landed smack in my lap, which was quite amusing, all things considered!

So, lyrics to suit. I was considering Let’s Face It but it is a bit too much of a downer for such a good few days.

I have decided to go with a song that I just adore. It is not only highly amusing and infectious, it has a bit of a feel-good message :)

Wear My Hat
Phil Collins

She came looking for me with her arms open wide,
like some long lost friend of mine.

She said ‘Excuse me, but do you remember me ?’
I said ‘No, I don’t believe I do’
So she looked me up and down
and undressed me with her eyes,
then she said ‘You’ve got everything I need, you’ve got everything I want’

So I said ‘OK,

you can wear my hat,
you can have my coat,
you can take my shirt
‘cos I don’t need it.
You can wear my shoes,
you can take my socks,
come on take my bag it’s yours

If you love it,
you can have it if you love it,
ain’t no problem if you love it,
come on take it if you love it.

So her friend came up to me
with a pen and paper in her hand,
expressing some interest in the number of my room,
She said ‘Excuse me, but do you remember me? ‘
I said ‘No,’ she said ‘Can I appeal to you?’

So I looked her up and down
and realising her insinuations I blushed
she said ‘Listen babe you don’t know me,
no you don’t know me but you owe me,

and I love you,
yes I love you,
put your arms around me ‘cos I love you,
I got all your records and I love you’

So I suggested

[CHORUS]

Well later on that day this guy came to me
with a scrap of paper in his hand
he said ‘Hey buddy can you sign your name for me?’
I said ‘Why, do I owe you money?’ He said ‘No’
I said ‘Listen pal do I know you? Have we ever met?
Why do you want my name on this little piece of paper?

He said ‘I love you,
I don’t know you but I love you,
like my brother I love you,
put your arms around me ‘cos I love you’

I said ‘Hey let’s not rush things

[CHORUS]

You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
You can wear my hat,
Come on wear my hat.’

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