08. November 2008 · Comments Off · Categories: Ramble

Man with the bassoon, nothing on his music
Acted like a mute, never said a word
Just as I thought he was going to fall asleep
He picked up his bassoon and gave us all…. the……. bird

Here are all the lyrics, in case you are interested (and even if you’re not):

SEASIDE BAND
Arthur Askey

Once, at the seaside, feeling very restless
I ran down tuppence and I rolled on the pier
Hadn’t gone far when the strains of music
Floated on the breeze and landed in my ear
I quickened up me steps for I love nice noises
Very soon arrived right opposite the band
Saw the conductor on a lemonade box
With his little baton stuck up in his right hand

One two three four, off went the cornet
Five six seven eight, the fiddles followed too
A man in the corner playing on the piccolo
Keeping time with the sole of his boot
Right behind him was a fellow with the trombone
Blowing like the devil with his cheeks out wide
Working so hard that both his little eyeballs
Left their sockets and stood outside

Hanging on a rostrum, a drummer, very lonely
Drums all round like bees in a swarm
Looking very cold with his nose quite scarlet
Banging on the cymbals to keep himself warm
Opposite to him was the man with the toupee
Spitting down a reed – what a nasty man!
Sitting next to him was a fellow with a French horn
Full of soul and bitter beer, tuppence on the can

Fellow with a cello, boom boom boom boom
Trying very hard to saw it in two
His pal with the double bass, cuddling it fondly
Looking like a camel with a dose of the flu
Man with a piccolo, fed up with the dancing
Sick and tired of hearing the same old toot
Thought he’d like a change so he put it down beside him
And then started messing with a full size flute

Man with the bassoon, nothing on his music
Acted like a mute, never said a word
Just as I thought he was going to fall asleep
He picked up his bassoon and gave us all the bird
Then a little man with walrus whiskers
How he got his breath, well I don’t know
Found he got his fungus stuffed up the mouthpiece
And wondered why he couldn’t play his little oboe

Man with the trombone lost his temper
Thought they could not hear him and said, ‘Here goes’
Took a long breath and threw all of his false teeth
Right on the bridge of the conductor’s nose
Then the conductor, getting very angry
Raised his other hand, with a rum-tum-tum
Caused such a draught that the man with the harp
Went clean through the air and fell through the drum

Bang bang bang went the man with the cymbals
Toodle-oodle-oo went the flute so gay
Fiddles and violas screaming like the wind
And the cornet broke his promise, trying to reach top A
What a pandemonium everybody different
Each with the other one, trying to compete
Strange to relate it must’ve been a fluke
But they all finished dead on the same down-beat

Oh, Rule Britannia, they kept the party clean
And I felt sorry when they played
God Save Our Queen

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