God rest ye merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay.
Our caulies, leeks, and aubergines
Will help on Christmas Day.
To save us all from seizing up,
We have our five a day.
On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
A parsnip in a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Three French fries,
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Eleven peppers ripening,
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Twelve drums o'pumpkin,
Eleven peppers ripening,
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
Personent hodie,
Get your fruit here today,
Laudantes jucunde,
Let's all eat bananas,
Mix them with sultanas,
And date beer, beer, beer,
And date beer, beer, beer,
And date beer, gin, hey ho,
We know beats tomatoes.
NEW SOLO FOR 2020
(must not be sung with an audience)
Once in Boris' Covid city
Stood a lonely street so dead,
Where a masked man stayed so safely
With a bubble round his head.
Scary was that virus mild,
Bill and Klaus's own brainchild.
O Counc'llors of the loony left,
How oft we see you lie!
Midst Oxford's golden dreaming spires
Net Zero must apply.
Whi-ile cars are banned from zone to zone
And plant crates block the street,
The... poor must freeze to help Ukraine
And live on bugs, not meat.
Begone, Begone, O Sa-ad Ee-eek Khan,
And mates of his who hail from Pakistan,
Who cast their blight on Lon-do-on dear
And strive to rule us all with abject fear.
Let's hope! Let's hope! Mayor Sa-ad I Q cell
Shall lose the poll and go to merry hell.
Begone, thou tyrant fro-om on high,
Who orders all folk to-oo com-ply
With cruel tolls on the traf-fic flow
That stop us on our rightful ways to go.
Let's hope! Let's hope! Mayor Sa-d I Q cell
Shall lose the poll and go to merry hell.
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13 comments
Studley said:
In praise of veg and fruit,
My harp's in tune, my notes are wrong
But you're good on the lute.
Isisbridge said:
Ripe tomatoes in a row.
See the tender pips appear,
As you squeeze them from the rear.
Hail, thou ever-blessed tom!
Hail, redemption's happy pomme!
Sing through all your five a day,
Pommes d'amour are here to stay!
Isisbridge said:
Let nothing you dismay.
Our caulies, leeks, and aubergines
Will help on Christmas Day.
To save us all from seizing up,
We have our five a day.
Oh-oh, helpings of cabbage Savoy!
Cabbage Savoy!
Oh-oh, hell pings of cabbage Savoy!
Isisbridge said:
All seated on the ground,
The grocer's boy came riding down
And sprouts were passed around.
"Fear not," said he, for mighty dread
Had seized their troubled guts:
"Glad puddings of great figs I bring,
To you, all fruit and nuts."
Isisbridge said:
A parsnip in a pear tree.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Three French fries,
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Eleven peppers ripening,
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me:
Twelve drums o'pumpkin,
Eleven peppers ripening,
Ten leeks a'reeking,
Nine lettuce bouncing,
Eight maize a'wilting,
Seven tons of spinach,
Six greasy ladles,
Five cole slaw,
Four cauliflowers,
Three French fries.
Two carrot sticks,
And a parsnip in a pear tree.
Isisbridge said:
When they are both full grown:
Of all the veg that are on my patch,
The cauli bears the crown.
The rising of the sun,
And the running of the drain,
The playing of the merry gardener,
Sweet singing in the rain.
Isisbridge said:
Get your fruit here today,
Laudantes jucunde,
Let's all eat bananas,
Mix them with sultanas,
And date beer, beer, beer,
And date beer, beer, beer,
And date beer, gin, hey ho,
We know beats tomatoes.
Isisbridge said:
(must not be sung with an audience)
Once in Boris' Covid city
Stood a lonely street so dead,
Where a masked man stayed so safely
With a bubble round his head.
Scary was that virus mild,
Bill and Klaus's own brainchild.
Isisbridge said:
Bonking Boris once looked out
On the feast of Crimble,
Party poppers strewn about
With his lies so nimble.
Glibly fibbed the goons that night,
Though the press was cruel,
When a masked pleb came in sight
Banned from seeing Gran this Yule.
Isisbridge said:
(to the tune of O Little Town)
O Counc'llors of the loony left,
How oft we see you lie!
Midst Oxford's golden dreaming spires
Net Zero must apply.
Whi-ile cars are banned from zone to zone
And plant crates block the street,
The... poor must freeze to help Ukraine
And live on bugs, not meat.
Isisbridge said:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yAD8ML04Mg
Isisbridge said:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLJ-h7XdcAo
Isisbridge said:
(to the tune of O Come, O Come Emmanuel)
Begone, Begone, O Sa-ad Ee-eek Khan,
And mates of his who hail from Pakistan,
Who cast their blight on Lon-do-on dear
And strive to rule us all with abject fear.
Let's hope! Let's hope! Mayor Sa-ad I Q cell
Shall lose the poll and go to merry hell.
Begone, thou tyrant fro-om on high,
Who orders all folk to-oo com-ply
With cruel tolls on the traf-fic flow
That stop us on our rightful ways to go.
Let's hope! Let's hope! Mayor Sa-d I Q cell
Shall lose the poll and go to merry hell.