The Songs.

 

Firefly: I danced before Napoleon. No, Napoleon danced before me. In fact he danced two hundred years before me. Here’s one I picked up in a dance hall.

 

Pop goes the Weasel/The Laws of Administration

 

The soundwave of this song is massive and occasionally difficult to hear, so the lyrics are included below. Download the wav. here

 

Mrs. Teasdale: If it’s not asking too much…

                        For our information,

                        Just for illustration,

                        Tell us how you intend

                        To run the nation.

 

Firefly:  These are the laws of my administration.

             No one’s allowed to tell a dirty joke.

             And whistling is forbidden

 (He whistles and conducts the guests)

 

Guests:  We’re not allowed to tell a dirty joke

              Hail, hail Freedonia.

 

Firefly:  If chewing gum is chewed

            The chewer is pursued,

           And in the hoose-gow hidden.

         (He chews)

 

Guests: If we choose to chew, we’ll be pursued.

 

Firefly: If any form of pleasure is exhibited.

           Report to me and it will prohibited.

           I’ll put my foot down,

           So shall it be.

           This is the land of the Free.

 

           The last man nearly ruined this place,

           He didn’t know what to do with it.

           If you think this country’s bad enough now,

           Just wait till I get through with it.

 

           The country’s taxes must be fixed,

           And I know what to do with it.

           If you think you’re paying too much now,

           Just wait till I get through with it.

         

           I will not stand for anything

           That’s crooked or unfair.

           I’m strictly on the up and up,

           So everyone beware.

 

           If anyone’s caught taking graft

           And I don’t get my share,

           We stand ‘em up against the wall…

            And pop goes the weasel!

 

          So everyone beware,

          Who’s crooked or unfair,

          No one must take a bit of graft

          Unless he gets his share.

 

          If any man should come between

          A husband and his bride,

          We find out which one she prefers

          By letting her decide.

 

         If she prefers the other man,

         The husband steps outside.

         We stand him up against the wall,

         And pop goes the weasel!

 

Guests: The husband steps outside,

            Relinquishes his bride.

 

Firefly: (simultaneously) Ah-ah-ah….

 

Guests:  They stand him up against the wall,

             And take him for a ride.

 

 

It’s War!

 

 Download the wav. file here. Again it is very large - be warned!

 

Firefly: (striding to the head of the council’s table)

           Then it’s war!

           (Trumpeters raise their instruments to either side of him)

           Then it’s war!

           (fanfare)

           Gather the forces!

           (fanfare)

           Harness the horses!

           (fanfare)

           Then it’s war!

           (Music. The Judge rises and salutes, followed by the General, then a minister, then another minister)

Minister: Freedonia’s going to war!

General: Each native son will grab a gun.

Stenographer: And run away to war!

            (Shot of a row of generals and ministers, with the Freedonians in the background)

All:     At last we’re going to…

          Feet will beat along the street to…

          War!

          We’re going to war!

Chicolini and Bob: At last the country’s going to war

All:     It seems the country’s going to war.

Ministers: At last the country’s going to war.

All:     We’re going to war!

Prosecutor: This is a fact we can’t ignore.

All:      We’re going to war!

           This is a fact we can’t ignore!

           We’re going to war!

Firefly: In case you haven’t heard before

           I think they think we’re going to war

           I think they think we’re going to war

All:      We’re going to war!

Bob:   I think they think we’re going to war

All:     We’re going to war!

          (Chicolini emerges from under the table where he has hidden to escape the judicial process)

Chicolini: We’re going to war!

Guards:   We’re going to war!

           (Firefly crawls on all fours under the table as Chicolini appears over the top)

Chicolini: We’re going to war!

            (Pinky marches into the council chamber at the head of a group of guards. He is twirling a baton, which he uses to mark time with whilst pulling faces. Then he throws the baton high in the air, and it brings down a huge crystal chandelier onto his head. He extricates himself and runs off. Bob, Chicolini and Firefly go behind the guards and play on their helmeted heads to xylophone music. Pinky comes back and joins the end of the row. At first he marks time with the others, but then produces his scissors and starts cutting off the soldiers’ plumes. As the soldiers turn and march past him, he cuts the plumes off to the beat of the music. Grabbing his baton again, he hits the last soldier on the head. As the soldiers exit, the Freedonians start milling in the center of the room)

All:        To war, to war, to war we’re gonna go!

            (Firefly, Bob, Chicolini and Pinky stand in a line and flutter their hands like a black minstrel’s act)

The Four Brothers: Oh, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de-ho.

All:       To war, to war, to war we’re gonna go!

            (they shake their fists in emphasis. The brothers continue to flutter their hands, this time on their knees).

The Four Brothers: Oh, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de-ho.

            (everyone takes up the refrain and mimics the brothers’ actions)

All:        Oh, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de-ho.

            (the brothers kick out their legs as they sing, and stop to watch everyone else do the same)

The Four Brothers: Oh, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de-ho.

All:        Oh, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de, hi-de-ho.

             (they haul on an imaginary rope, stopping to watch the crowd again)

The Four Brothers: Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho.

All:         Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, hooooooo….

             (Cut to the brothers grinning widely and swaying as they advance towards the camera)

The Four Brothers: They got guns,

               We got guns,

               All God’s chillun got guns.

               (the crowd swings their arms. Cut back to the brothers sitting on the judges bench strumming banjos)

               Oh Freedonia,

               Oh doncha cry for me,

               Coz I’m comin’ round the mountain

               With a banjo on my knee.

               (they jump down and advance towards the camera again)

All:         Oh, Freedonia,

              Oh, doncha cry for me

The Four Brothers: Cos I’m coming round the mountain (they kneel)

               With a banjo on my…

               (they get up and start dancing in the crowd in a country style. The trumpets sound again and everyone freezes)

All:         To war, to war, to war we’re gonna go

              (they start to advance slowly towards the camera, the brothers in the centre)

             To war, to war, to war…

               (a violin sounds. It is Pinky, surrounded by people. He plays the instrument over his head, then behind his back, then finds he has lost the bow. He turns round in consternation – the bow is sticking out of the back of his trousers. Back to the other brothers, who are still dancing. Another fanfare.)

              To war, to war,

              We soon will say goodbye

Bob: (tearfully) Oh, how we’d cry for Firefly.

               If Firefly should die.

All:          A mighty man is he,

               A man of brawn who’ll carry on

               Till dawn of….

             (they surge over the courtroom, jumping over the benches and gathering around the council table)    

               …Victory.

               With him to lead the way…

               Our spirits will not lag,

               Until the judgement day.

             (everyone throws up their hands as they sing the last line)

               We’ll rally round the flag, the flag, the flag, the flag!

             (Dissolve to the Freedonian flag)

 

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