Chris Walsh (chris_walsh) wrote,
Chris Walsh
chris_walsh

This has been on my mind. Now it can be on yours.

This morning's moment of Meta: "All-Purpose Folk Song" by Neil Gaiman:
There's a ship a-sort of sinking in the harbor
And my lover is come down from the sea
Or fens, or heather
Fair maid, he sings, oh show me to your chamber door, or arbor
And he means me well, or ill
Or he ignores me altogether.

Ah, my love he is a knight so bold, impressive in his ardour
Or a minstrel or a pirate with his thighs and arms so firm
With a mandolin or an angry grin and a dead wife in the larder
And somewhere around this point in the song somone normally gets transformed into a loathly worm.

Sing dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle dee
I'm singing of the forests or the tavern or the sea
Sing dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle die
You can cross out or forget about the bits that don't apply.

Well, I sent my love a message as they led me to the pyre
But he'd shipped off with Prince Charlie to be a buccaneerio
And the pipes of Faerie skirled and the cows were in the byre
And we drank good English ale until we felt a little queerio.

Oh I care not nothing for your goose feather crotch
And I know you by the feather in your you-know
And we bantered and we badinaged, and then she stole me watch
Then we sang and danced and lost our way all under the autumn moon-oh.

Sing dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle doot
No one's really listening and no one gives a hoot
Sing dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle, dum-a-diddle die
You can cross out or forget about the bits that don't apply.
He wrote that in the early 90s, looks like. He's long been writing stories about stories...
Tags: music
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