THE UNDEAD FOLK SONG





Now folk singers they do not tire nor ever fade away
You can hear them singing any time both night and day
The secret of their stamina from all I’ve seen or read
Is – to be a good folk singer it helps to be UNDEAD!


Well some of us are drownded down in the deep blue sea
Thrown o’r the side by pirates bound for Americi
Dragged down by vicious whirlpools or mermaids full of lust
We will rise up singing though wet and still concussed


Sometimes we will sing to you from six foot underground
You’ll be amazed how tons of earth cannot dampen the sound
Decapitated, strangled, throats cut from ear to ear
Covered in mud and piles of leaves we sing out loud and clear


The world is full of murderers, at least that’s how it looks
Cruel hearted parents, false lovers, evil crooks
They lurk in every shadow to deal out a grisly fate
We will sing out against them, although a little late


Even if you cut us up and make things from our bones
All you get are pipes that whinge or a harp that moans
What e’r you try to play on them from Bach to old Greensleeves
All you get are folk singers sounding kinda peeved


As ghosts we haunt the country round causing lots of strife
We wail and make a frightful noise, much as we did in life
Our lack of corporal bodies, it should fill you with fear
And it makes it very hard to put our fingers in our ears [NAAAAAA]


So though you wish that we would stay safely dead and gone
With no necessity to breathe we just go on and on and on and on
Don’t reach for cross or garlic, remember what l said
To sing a real good folk song it helps to be UNDEAD