The Betrayal

The Betrayed
(Tune: My love is like a red, red rose)

We live beneath a grand pretence,
The rulers mock the ruled.
The mask has slipped so much makes sense
And now but few are fooled.

Let us end the strain and doubt,
See promises are kept;
Let us now throw deceivers out
For too long we have wept.

We wept to see this slow decline;
To see our proud land fall.
Let us throw out deceiving swine,
Rally to Freedom’s call!

We are not free when ruled through lies
But slaves of foul deceit;
So now it is that Freedom cries:
“Throw out each sneak and cheat”

We’ve lived beneath this grand pretence,
Where rulers mocked the ruled.
The mask has slipped now all makes sense;
We’re not here to be fooled!

Be gone now all of this deceit
“Throw out each sneak and cheat”

© Trevor Morgan, 14 April 2019

From: “The Children of Gewis”

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Problems?

Problems

Problems with prostates,

Problems with piles,

Problems in mouths

With toothless smiles,

Problems with skin;

But wrinkles it’s said

Are not such a bummer

As dropping down dead!

© Trevor Morgan, 1/3/2019

Germs ooze out of a swatted fly

The strong are wise to be economical with the use of force.
Strangely, despite all that’s gone before they rarely ever are..
If the weak are in the way they swat them. If anyone speaks words they do not want to hear they silence them.
This stupidity is alive and flourishing in our country today.

Swat

Germs ooze out of a swatted fly

Some germs ooze from a swatted fly,
Seeped and oozed away.
Where they settled, what they poisoned,
May be hard to say

Chorus

They swatted a fly, it was easy done
With feelings quite wry – they did it for fun.
But, Oh! – how the germs oozed out of the mess
An’ what it’ll get in, will cause such distress.

Some settled in the national press,
Some in much graphic art.
Where it will spread it’s hard to guess;
Some ills are sure to start.

Chorus

Some went in words and some in tune,
That most may sing or hum.
Their message will be well known soon;
The violence of those scum.

Chorus

Some settled in each raging heart,
Some in much local lore
Where it will spread what it may start
May make life one dark chore.

Chorus

If only they had let him be
It would have flown away,
But now from sickness they’re not free;
For they’re plagued every day.

© Trevor Morgan, 26/6/2018

 

Inertia for the Intellect

Working in a big, old organisation is weird.
They take you on to do a job then they make it impossible to do it.
Such places are a paradise for the mediocre; that is until the inevitable and they go bust.
This is different in the public sector. There they become a danger to the ordinary citizen until reform or rebellion.

Head of innovation implementation at work
No

Inertia for the Intellect

Why do some feel so insecure,
Why do some feel so frail?
Worried they’ll lose a sinecure?
Scared that they might fail?

All walks of life may be the same,
Best don’t rise to the top
Where mediocre gets the fame;
The able get the chop.

With sound procedures well set up
An institution’s made.
And in good time there’s no let up
Until it is obeyed.

All newness then will be locked out
And good work chucked aside.
No matter what is wrote about
No new things get inside.

Inertia of the intellect
Can be seen all the time.
It is the only prime suspect;
Its dead hand is the crime.

©Trevor Morgan 19/6/2018

Note:

I was once taken on to ensure contract compliance on construction sites.
The job seemed okay until I moved home and arrived for my first day.
I was supposed to ensure compliance but was not allowed on any construction site! That “was not how we do things here”!!!
This was with Sheffield City Council. They currently claim to be “Green” whilst hacking down trees. They are not just mad, they are plain nasty if challenged. They are not unique in this as a public body.

Fairy Ring Song

I loved the stories of Fairies told by my sweet Grangran when I was little.
I was told not to step into a fairy ring, and if I walked into one by accident there was a ritual that might save me. I was five at the time but remember that story and especially the way she told it.
So I incorporate this lyric in a longer work

fairyrings.jpg

Fairy Ring Song

“We dance within each fairy ring
We knew each fairy’s name
Now as we dance we have to sing
For this is not a game

Once in the ring do make a wish
But keep it to yourself
Turn round three times ‘til skirts go swish
And that keeps out the elf

When in the presence of the fey
All have to sing in rhyme
For if the fairies get their way
You’re carried off through time

And what may seem an hour or two
Could be a hundred year
And those you love will then miss you
You cause each bitter tear

Turn round three times step backwards now
Go out where you came in
And as you leave do give a bow
That way the fey won’t win”

© Trevor Morgan, 7/6/2018

From: “Tales of Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians”

King Lemming

If you are thinking of going into politics to “Make a difference”, think again before commencing.

“All political careers no matter how illustrious ultimately end in disappointment…”
Enoch Powell
And he should know!

lemming

King Lemming

I met this lemming on the road
He had no fear of heights
And purposeful away he strode
To go and see great sights

The higher up you go you see
The furthest sights of all
On high cliffs here above the sea
That lemming met his fall

Acceleration’s quite a thing
As t’wards the beach you fly
That lemming felt just like a king
Yes, he knew how to die

There is a red smear on a rock
King like, he’d passed that way,
Whilst foolish peasants stand and mock
His was a glorious day

There’s glory in a steady rise
There’s glory in it all
As lemming’s rain down from the skies
– So all the great must fall!

© Trevor Morgan, 6/12/2002

lemmings002

Skye Bridge Song

Some old sentimental songs lend themselves to parody.
I see nothing romantic about the rebellion of 1745 and the disaster it caused to many of the common folk of Scotland. 
What is great about the Skye Bridge is now it is so much easier to get to the beautiful Isle of Skye.

 
Skye Bridge
 

Skye Bridge Song(Tune: Sky boat song)

Rattle rusty van
Like a can on a string;
Over the bridge to Skye.

There’s now no toll
To drive on this thing;
That’s on the road to Skye.

Carry the sad
And all that they bring;
All the way over to Skye.

They’ve come to take
A break from the stress;
Some lazy days on Skye.

They’re come to make
A real bloody mess;
And litter the paths of Skye.

So rattle rusty van
Like a tin on a string;
Bouncing along round Skye

Yes rattle rusty van
Like a can on a string;
Over the bridge to Skye.

©Trevor Morgan 2002

Note:
The original romantic lyric follows:

Skye Boat Song

Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
Onward the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to Skye
Loud the wind howls
loud the waves roar
Thunderclaps rend the air
Baffled our foes
stand by the shore
Follow they will not dare
Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing
Onward the sailors cry.
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to Skye

When you consider this is about Charles Stewart, who led a rebellion to disaster then left with all the gold it is plain sloppy. He ended an obese dissolute waster.

JAPANESE PRINTS AND A PORCELAIN VASE

Strange how writing comedy lyrics is harder than the dramatic!

JAPANESE PRINTS AND A PORCELAIN VASE

A guy asked me to dinner
So we could break the ice,
I very soon discovered
He had a secret vice.
I didn’t get to know him
For every time he speaks
All that he can talk of
Is his PASSION – for antiques!

Chorus

I didn’t get to know him,
I was lost and in a maze
Of Japanese prints and a porcelain vase.

So if I gathered dust
Like some old antique urn,
That could just be the way
In which I might return.
Then he would love me
And he’d not find a fault.
He’d treat me with respect
Then lock me in a vault!

Chorus

So let the cobwebs gather
On some other gal.
It’s time for me to say:
“So long darling and farewell”.
Cos’ I don’t want to know him
For every time he speaks
All that he can talk of
Is his PASSION – for antiques!

Chorus

I was lost and in a maze
Of porcelain prints and a Japanese vase

Of Japanese prints and a porcelain vase

 

© Trevor Morgan 1998

From: lyrics for “Candy Blue”

Bowlegged Buck

I like country music.
I like it because the lyrics are so integral to the art form.
Also although the songs are about Mamma, trains, getting drunk, etc., they also have a good tradition of the comic lyric.
I dedicate this to all boys named Sue!

Bowlegged Buck

A bowlegged cowboy
And his knock-kneed lady
The wanted such love
But well – maybe –
They’ll find it a chore.
They find it to so strained,
Yet, for their loving
Neither Complained.

The bed was no good.
The table all right.
So that’s where they spent
Their first lovin’ night.

Getting together
Though it was a chore
Is somethin’ they’re doin’
Now more an’ more.

But then with love
The question it begs;
How love finds a way
Through a mismatch of legs.

A bowlegged cowboy
And his knock-kneed lady
Enjoyin’ such love
And though – maybe –
They find it a chore,
They find it a strain,
Yet, for this loving
Neither Complain.

© Trevor Morgan, 2004

From: “Lyrics for Candy Blue”

Nan’s Fairy Song

Story time is fun

Fey

Nan’s Fairy Song

“Now there are fairies in each glade,
They’re by each tree and brook.
Some dwell beneath the ash tree’s shade;
You’ll see them if you look.

The young and old may see the fey,
But only if we’re kind.
There are grown men who talk to them,
But they have lost their mind.

Beware the fairy folk please do
And don’t go to their hall.
For they may play such tricks on you,
That you could cry and bawl.

Content yourself to watch the fey,
But do not heed their speech.
Then you’ll come home at end of day
And not be out of reach.

The fairy king he likes young maids,
Yes, he likes having them.
And where a maid has gone with him,
No maid comes back again.

The fairy queen she has tirades
Each time a flower’s lost.
She scolds the king with oaths so grim,
But wenches bear the cost.

The children who may come by chance
Can be blamed on the fey.
Ah, wench you’ve led a merry dance,
When you romped in the hay”

© Trevor Morgan

From: “Tales of Aethelwulf of Lyng”