M M OOO N N TTTTT Y Y
MM MM O O NN N T Y Y
M M M O O N N N T Y
M M O O N NN T Y
M M OOO N N T Y
PPPPP Y Y TTTTT H H OOO N N
P P Y Y T H H O O NN N
PPPPP Y T HHHHH O O N N N
P Y T H H O O N NN
P Y T H H OOO N N
SONG BOOK
ACCOUNTANCY SHANTY
It's fun to charter an accountant
And sail the wide accountan-cy,
To find, explore the funds offshore
And skirt the shoals of bankruptcy.
It can be manly in insurance:
We'll up your premium semiannually,
It's all tax-deductible,
We fairly incorruptible,
We're sailing on the wide accuontan-cy!
Composers & Authors: Eric Idle, John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
ALL THINGS DULL AND UGLY
All things dull and ugly,
All creatures short and squat,
All things rude and nasty,
The Lord God made the lot.
Each little snake that poisons,
Each little wasp that stings,
He made their brutish venom,
He made there horrid wings.
All things sick and cancerous,
All evil great and small.
All things foul and dangerous,
The Lord God made them all
Each nasty little Hornet,
Each beasty little squid,
Who made the spikey urchin
Who made the sharks, He did.
All things scrabbed and ulcerous,
All pox both great and small,
Putrid, foul and gangerous,
The Lord God made them all.
AMEN
Composer: Trad.
Author: Eric Idle
-----------------------------------------------
BRIAN SONG
Brian ... the babe they
called Brian
Grew ... grew, grew and grew,
Grew up to be,
Grew up to be,
A boy called Brian
A boy called Brian.
He had arms and legs and hands
and feet
This boy whose name was Brian
And he grew, grew, grew and grew
Grew up to be
Yes he grew up to be
A teenager called Brian
A teenager called Brian
And his face became spotty
Yes his face became spotty
And his voice dropped down low
And things started to grow
On young Brian and so
He was certainly no
No girl named Brian
Not a girl named Brian.
And he started to shave
And have one off the wrist
And want to see girls
And go out and get pissed
A man called Brian
This man called Brian
The man they called Brian
This man called Brian
Composer: Andre Jacquemin / Dave Howman
Author: Michael Palin
-----------------------------------------------
BRUCES' PHILOSOPHERS SONG
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable,
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table,
David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel.
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as schlosed as Schegel.
There's nothing Nietzche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist,
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particulary ill,
Plato, they say, couldstick it away,
Half a crate of whisky every day.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle
Hobbes was found of his dram,
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart,
"I drink, therefor I am."
Yes Socrates, himself, is particulary missed,
A lovely little thinker,
But a bugger when he's pissed.
Composer & Author: Eric Idle
-----------------------------------------------
CHRISTMAS IN HEAVEN
Spoken Intro:
Good evening ladies and gentlemen. It's truly a
areal honourable experience to be here this evening.
A very wonderful and warm and emotional moment for
all of us. And I'd like to sing a song for all of
you.
It's Christmas in Heaven,
All the children sing,
It's Christmas in Heaven,
Hark hark those church bells ring.
It's Christmas in Heaven,
The snow falls from the sky ...
But it's nice and warm and everyone
Looks smart and wears a tie.
It's Christmas in Heaven,
There's great films on TV ...
'The Sound of Music' twice an hour
And 'Jaws' I, II and III.
There's gifts for all the family,
There's toiletries and trains ...
There's Sony Walkman Headphone sets
And the latest video games!
It's Christmas It's Christmas in Heaven
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray,
Every single day,
It's christmas day.
It's Christmas It's Christmas in Heaven
Hip hip hip hip hip hooray,
Every single day,
It's christmas day.
Composer: Eric Idle
Author: Terry Jones
-----------------------------------------------
DECOMPOSING COMPOSERS
Intro: Right ho, darling. Yeh, be home at 8:30.
No, no I'll go on bike.
Verse:
Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on,
And Mozart don't go shoppin' no more,
You'll never meet Liszt or Brahms again,
And Elgar doesn't answer the door.
Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh,
Whilst composing a long symphony,
But one hunderd and fifty years later,
There's very little of them left to see.
Chorus:
They're decomposing composers,
There's nothing much anyone can do,
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you.
Verse:
Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninov,
Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal,
But nowadays no-one will serve them,
And their gravy is left to congeal.
Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds,
With their highly original sound,
The pianos they played are still working,
But they're both six feet underground.
Chorus:
They're decomposing composers,
There's less of them every year,
You can say what you like to Debussy,
But there's not much of him left to hear.
Finish:
Claude Achille Debussy, died 1918. Christophe
Willebald Gluck, died 1787. Carl Maria von Weber,
not at all well 1825, died 1826. Giacomo Meyerbeer,
still alive 1863, not still alive 1864. Modeste
Mussorgsky, 1880 going to parties, no fun any more
1881. Johan Nepomuk Hummel, chatting away nineteen
to the dozen with his mates down the pub every
evening 1836, 1837 nothing.
-----------------------------------------------
ERIC THE HALF A BEE
Intro: Take it away Eric the Orchestra
Leader ....
Orchestra
Leader: A-one, two, a-one, two, three, four
(Piano introductory flourish)
Lead Singer: (speaks to piano accompainment)
Half a bee, philosophically,
Must ipso facto half not be.
But half a bee, has got to be,
Vis a vis its entity.
- D'you see?
But can a bee be said to be
Or not to be an entire bee,
When half the bee is not a bee
Due some ancient injury.
- Singing! ...
All sing: La di di, one two three,
Eric the half a Bee.
A B C D E F G,
Eric the half a Bee.
Lead Singer: Is this wrechted demi-bee,
Half asleep upon my knee
Some freak from a menagerie?
All shout: NO! It's Eric the Half a Bee.
All sing: Fiddle di dum, fiddle di dee,
Eric the half a Bee.
Ho ho ho, tee hee hee,
Eric the half a Bee.
Lead singer: I love this hive employ-ee-ee
bisected accidentally,
One summer afternoon ba me,
I love him carnally.
All sing: He loves him carnally ...
Lead Singer: Semi-carnally.
(speaks)
The End.
Voice: Cyril Connolly?
Lead Singer: No, semi-carnally.
Voice: Oh.
All sing: (quietly)
Cyril Connolly
(Ends with elaborate whistle)
Composer: Eric Idle
Authors: Eric Idle / John Cleese.
-----------------------------------------------
EVERY SPERM IS SACRED
Dad: There are Jews in the world, there are Buddists,
There are Hindus and Mormons and then
There are those that follow Mohammad, but
I've never been one of them....
I'm a Roman Catholic,
And have been since before I was born,
And the one thing they say about Catholics is
They'll take you as soon as you're warm....
You don't have to be a six footer,
You don't have to have a great brain,
You don't have to have any clothes on,
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came....
because....
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Children: Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Child: Let the heathen spill theirs,
On the dusty ground,
God shall make them pay for
Each sperm that can't be found.
Children: Every sperm is wanted,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.
Mum: Hindu, Taoist, Morman,
Spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care.
Men Neighbours: Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
Woman Neighbours: If a sperm is wasted,
Children: God gets quite irate.
Priest: Every sperm is sacred,
Bride & Groom: Every sperm is good,
Nannies: Every sperm is needed,
Cardinals: In your neighborhood.
Children: Every sperm is useful,
Every sperm is fine,
Funeral Cortege: God needs everybody's,
First Mourner: Mine
Lady Mourner: And mine
Corpse: And mine.
Nun: Let the pagans spill theirs,
O'er mountain, hill and plain.
Statues: God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that's spilt in vain.
Everybody: Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.
Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.
Composer: David Howman / Andre Jaquemin
Authors: Michael Palin / Terry Jones
-----------------------------------------------
FINLAND
Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I want to be,
Pony trekking or camping,
Or just watching TV,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
It's the country for me.
Verse: You're so near to Russia
So far from Japan,
Quite a long way from Cairo,
Lots of miles from Vietnam.
Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I want to be,
Eating breakfast or dinner,
Or snack lunch in the hall,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all
Verse: You're so sadly neglected
And often ignored,
A poor second to Belgium
When going abroad.
Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland,
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall,
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.
Repeat Chorus
Fade: Finland has it all ....
Composer & Author: Michael Palin
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
GALAXY SONG
Intro:
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs Brown, and things seem hard or tough,
and people are stupid, obnoxious or daft and you feel that you've had
quite enough ....
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving,
And revolving at 900 miles an hour,
That's orbiting at 19 miles a second, so it's reckoned,
A sun that is the source of all our power.
The sun and you and me and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at 40.000 miles an hour,
Of the galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our Galaxy itself contains 100 billion stars
It's 100.000 light years side to side,
It bulges in the middle, 16.000 light years thick
But out by us it's just 3.000 light years wide
We're 30.000 light years from galactic central point,
We go round every 200 million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding Universe.
As fast as I can go, at the speed of light you know,
12 million miles a minute, and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember when you're feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
Because there's bugger all down here on Earth.
-----------------------------------------------
I LIKE CHINESE
Spoken: The world today seems absolutely
Intro: crackers,
With nuclear bombs to blow us all
sky high.
There are fools and idiots sitting
on the trigger,
It's depressing and it's sensless
and that's why ....
Intro: I like chinese,
I like Chinese,
They only come up to your knees,
Yet they're always friendly, and
they're ready to please.
Verse: I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
There's nine hundret million of
them in the world today,
You'd better learn to like them
that's what I say.
Chorus: I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
They come from a long way overseas,
But they're cute and they're cudly
and they're ready to please.
Verse: I like Chinese food
The waiters never are rude,
Think of the many things they've
done to impress,
There's Maoism, Taoism, I Ching
and Chess.
Chorus: So I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
I like their tiny little trees,
Their Zen, their ping-pong,
their yin and yang-ese.
Verse: I like Chinese thought
The wisdom that confucios taught
If Darwin is anything to shout about,
the Chinese will survive us all
without any doubt.
Chorus: So I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
They only come up to your knees,
Yet they're wise and they're witty,
and they're ready to please.
Verse:
(in Chinese)
Chorus: I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
Their food is guaranteed to please,
A fourteen, a seven, a nine
and lychees.
Chorus: I like Chinese,
I like Chinese,
I like their tiny little trees,
Their Zen, their ping-pong,
their yin and yang-ese.
Fade: I like Chinese,
I like Chinese....
Composer: Eric Idle
Author: Eric Idle
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
I'M SO WORRIED
I'm so worried about what's happening today,
In the middle east you know,
And I'm so worried about the baggage retrieval system
they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about the fashions today,
I don't think they're good for your feet,
And I'm so worried about the shows on TV that
sometimes they want to repeat.
I'm so worried about what's happening today you know,
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system
they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about my hair falling out,
And the state of the world today
And I'm so worried about being so full of doubt
about everything anyway.
I'm so worried about modern technology,
I'm so worried about all the tinhgs the dump in the sea
I'm so worried about it, worried about it,
worried, worried, worried ....
I'm so worried about everything that can go wrong,
I'm so worried about whether people like this song
I'm so worried about this very next verse,
it isn't the best I've got,
And I'm so worried about whether
I should go on or whether
I shouldn't just stop.
I'm so worried about whether I ought to have stopped
And I'm so worried because it's the sort
of thing I ought to know
And I'm so worried about the baggage retrieval system
they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about whether I should have stopped then,
I'm so worried that I'm driving everyone round the bend,
I'm so worried about the baggage retrieval system
they've got at Heathrow.
Composer: Terry Jones
Author: Terry Jones
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
LUMBERJACK SONG
I'm a lumberjack
And I'm O.K.
I sleep all night
And I work all day.
Chorus:
He's a lumberjack
And he's O.K.
He sleeps all night
And he works all day.
I cut down trees
I eat my lunch
I go to the Lavatory
On Wednesday I go shopping
And have buttered scones for tea.
Mounties:
He cuts down trees
He eats his lunch
He goes to the Lavatory
On Wednesday he goes shopping
And has buttered scones for tea
Chorus: [...]
I cut down trees
I skip and jump
I like to press wild flowers
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.
Mounties:
He cuts down trees
He skips and jumps
He likes to press wild flowers
He puts on women clothing
And hang around in bars?
Chorus: [...]
I cut down trees
I wear high heels
Suspendies and a bra
I wish I'd been a girlie
Just like my dear pappa,
Mounties:
He cuts down trees
He wear high heels?
Suspendies ... and a bra?
Chorus: [...] 2x
Composers: Terry Jones, Michael Palin, Fred Tomlinson
Authors: Terry Jones, Michael Palin
Arranger: Fred Tomlinson
-----------------------------------------------
MEDICAL LOVE SONG
Inflammation of the foreskin
reminds me of your smile,
I've had ballanital chancriods
for quit a little while,
I gave my heart to NSU
that lovely night in June,
I ach for you my darling,
and I hope you get well soon.
My penile warts, your herpes,
my syphilitic sores,
Your moenlial infection,
how I miss you more and more.
Your dobie's itch, my scrumpox,
our lovely gonorrhea,
At least we both were lying,
when we said that we were clear.
Our syphilitic kisses
sealed the secret of our tryst,
You gave me scrotal pustules
with a quick flick of your wrist.
Your trichovaginitis
sent shivers down my spine
I got snail tracks in my anus
when your spirochetes met mine
Refrain:
Gonoccocal urethritis, streptococcal
ballinitis, Meningo myelitis
diplococcal cephalitis, Epididimitis,
interstitial keratitis, Syphilitic
choroiditis, and anterior u-ve-i-tis.
My clapped out genitalia
is not so bad to me,
As the complete and utter failure
every time I try to pee.
My doctor says my buboes
are the worst he's ever seen,
My scrotum's painted orange
and my balls are turning green.
My heart is very tender
though my parts are awful raw,
You might have been infected
but you never were a bore
I'm dying of your love my love
I'm your spirochaeltal clown,
I've left my body to science
but I'm afraid they've turned it down.
Refrain:
Composers: Eric Idle / John Du Prez
Authors: Graham Chapman / Eric Idle
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
MONEY SONG
I've got Ninety thousand pounds in my pyjamas,
I've got fourty thousand French francs in my fridge,
I've got lots of lovely lire, now the Deutschmark's getting dearer,
And my dollar bills would by the Brooklyn Bridge.
Chorus:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money,
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash,
Some people say it's folly
But I'd rather have the lolly,
With money you can ma-ake a splash.
Finale:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money,
(chorus sings money money money)
There is nothing like a newly minted pound
(money money money)
All:
Everyone must hanker
for the butchness of a banker
It's accountancy that makes the world go round
(round round round)
You can keep your Marxist ways
For it's only just a phase
For it's money makes the world go round
(money money money money
money money money money
money)
Composer: John Gould
Authors: Eric Idle, John Gould
Arranger: Fred Tomlinson
-----------------------------------------------
NEVER BE RUDE TO AN ARAB
Never be rude to an Arab,
An Israeli, or Saudi, or Jew
Never be rude to an Irishman,
No matter what you do.
Never poke fun at a Nigger,
A Spik, or a Wop, or a Kraut,
And never put down ...
>explosion!<
Composer: Terry Jones
Author: Terry Jones
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
PENIS SONG (The not Noel Coward song)
Intro: Good evening Ladies and gentlemen,
here's a little number I tossed off
recently in the caribbean.
Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis,
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy,
It's divine to own a dick,
>From the tiniest little tadger,
To the world's biggest brick.
So three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas,
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend
Your Percy or your cock,
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public,
Or they will stick you in the dock
And you won't come back.
Composer & Author: Eric Idle
-----------------------------------------------
SIT ON MY FACE
Sit on my face and tell me that
you love me
I'll sit on your face and tell you
I love you too
I love to hear you o-ra-lise
When I'm between your tights
You blow me away.
Sit on my face and let my lips
embrace you
I'll sit on my face and then
I'll love you truly
Life can be fine if we both
sixty nine
If we sit on our faces
In all sorts of places
And play till we're blown away
Composer: Harry Parr Davies
Author: Eric Idle
Arranger: John Du Prez
-----------------------------------------------
THE MEANING OF LIFE
Why are we here, what's life all about?
Is God really real, or is there some doubt?
Well tonight we're going to sort it all out,
For tonight it's the Meaning of Life.
What's the point of all this hoax?
Is it the chicken and the egg time, are we just yolks?
Or perhaps we're just one of God's little jokes,
Well ca c'est the Meaning of Life.
If life just a game where we make up the rules,
While we're searching for something to say,
Or are we just simply spiralling coils,
Of self-replicating DNA?
In this life, What is our fate?
Is there Heaven and Hell? Do we reincarnate?
Is mankind evolving or is it too late?
Well tonight here's the Meaning of Life.
For millions this life is a sad vale of tears,
Sitting round with nothing to say,
While scientists say we're just simply spiralling coils
Of self-replicating DNA.
So just why, why are we here?
And just what, what, what, what do we fear?
Well ce soir, for a change, it will all be made clear,
For this is the Meaning of Life
- c'est le sens de la vie,
This is the Meaning of Life.
Composer: Eric Idle / John Du Prez
Author: Eric Idle
-----------------------------------------------
TWO LEGS
Intro: And now Mr Terry Gilliam will sing
for you "I've got two legs"
I've got two legs from my hips to the ground
And when I move them they walk around
And when I lift them they climb up stairs
And when I shave them they ain't got hairs
I've got two ...
Composer & Author: Terry Gilliam
-----------------------------------------------
SPAM
Lovely spam, Wonderful Spa-a-m,
Lovely spam, Wonderful Spam,
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am,
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am,
SPA-A-A-A-A-A-A-AM,
SPA-A-A-A-A-A-A-AM,
LOVELY SPAM,
LOVELY SPAM,
LOVELY SPAM,
LOVELY SPAM,
LOVELY SPA-A-A-A-AM...
SPA-AM,
SPA-AM,
SPA-AM,
SPA-A-A-AM!
Composers: Michael Palin, Terry Jones, Fred Tomlinson
Authors: Michael Palin, Terry Jones
Arranger: Fred Tomlinson
See ya , love Dusch
..................................................................
"G.G.R. is the way forward"
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