More Gloranthan songs

From: Thomas McVey <tmcvey_at_...>
Date: Wed, 07 Mar 2001 13:02:38 -0800


>
> Message: 13
> Date: Wed, 7 Mar 2001 06:26:45 -0800 (PST)
> From: Guy Hoyle <ghoyle1_at_...>
> Subject: Re: Why should barbarians get all the poetry....
>
> --- Peter Larsen <plarsen_at_...> wrote:
> > In protest at the Orlanthi-centric attitudes of the songs posted, I
> > decided to throw another Lunar poem at you.
>
> Excellent! I applaud any additional Gloranthan songs, though mine have tended
> to run to Sartarite rebel tunes; I guess that's what I get for listening to so
> much Irish music.

I'd think some of the Ulster Orangemen songs, especially of the "Kick the Pope" variety (just substitute "Moonson" or "Emperor" for "Pope" and "Lunar" for "papist", would be suitable, like:

OLD VORIOF�S FLUTE In Dragon Pass, in the tula of Gorind
Where many a ruckion meself had a hand in Olaf Willemsen lived there, a weaver by trade And all of us thought him a stout-hearted blade.

On Orlanth�s Holy Day in its season did come Olaf played on the flute to the sound of the drum You can talk of your fiddles, your harp or your lute But there's nothing could sound like Old Voriof�s Flute.

But the treacherous scoundrel, he took us all in For he married a Lunar named Vera Selenim Turned Lunar himself and forsook the Old Cause That gave us our freedom, religion and laws.

And the boys in the tula treated him so harsh They forced Olaf to flee to the province of Tarsh; Took with him his wife and his childer, to boot, And along with the rest he stole Voriof�s Flute.

Each Wildday at mass, to atone for past wrongs, �Laf sang "Hail Shepelkirt" and other silly songs Till one Sunday morn, at the priest's own require �Laf went for to play with the lutes in the choir.

He went to play the flute to the Seven Mothers But the instrument cried, "Hail Thunder Brothers!" And blow as he would, though he made a great noise, The flute would play only "The Uroxi Boys".

�Laf jumped up and huffed, and in great turmoil. He pitched the old flute in the lunar�s holy oil; He thought that this charm would bring some other sound, When he tried again, it played "Moonheads Lie Down!"

And for all he would finger and twiddle and blow For to play Lunar music, the flute would not go; "Kick the Emperor" to "Sartar" was all it would sound Not one Lunar bleat in it could e'er be found.

At a council of Lunars that was held the next day They decided to banish the Old Flute away; They couldn't knock wind worship out of its head So they bought "Laf another to play in its stead.

And the Old Flute was doomed, and its fate was pathetic 'Twas fastened and burnt at the stake as heretic. As the flames rose around it, you could hear a strange noise 'Twas the Old Flute still a-whistlin' "The Uroxi Boys".

(To the tune of "The Auld Orange Flute"

> If I had a better feel for Lunar attitudes and culture, I'd
> be happy to do some myself. Maybe I should read some Kipling; it's been ages
> since I've Kippled.

You mean Redwyrd Keeplune?

"Blue-Arse"
Dragon Pass Expeditionary Force, Early Campaigns

 We've fought with many men acrost the lands,    And some of 'em was brave an' some was not:  The Pentan an' the Uzuz an' the Praxian;    But the Blue-Arse was the finest o' the lot.  We never got a ha'clack's change of 'im:    'E squatted in the scrub and 'ocked our 'orses,  'E cut our sentries up at Aldachur,

    An' 'e loosed the mad berserkers at our forces.

     So 'ere's to you, Blue-Arse, at your 'ome in high Sartar;
     Yore a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
     We gives you your certificate, an' if you want it signed,
     We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined.

 We took our chanst among the Dorastor 'ills,    The Pentans knocked us silly at a mile,  The Broomen guv us shaking chills,
   An' th� Zorak maces dished us up in style:  But all we ever got from such as they
   Was pop to what the Blue-Arse made us swaller;  We 'eld our bloomin' own, the tribunes say,    But man for man the Blues knocked us 'oller.

     Then 'ere's to you, Blue-Arse, an' the missis and the kid:
     Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did.
     We blasted you with Lunes, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair;
     But for all the odds agin' you, Bluey, you broke the square.

 'E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own,

    'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,  So we must certify the skill 'e's shown    In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords:  When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush    With 'is spike-'eaded shield an' the Vinga-spear,  An 'appy day with Bluey on the rush
   Will last an 'ealthy �oplite for a year.

     So 'ere's to you, Blue-Arse, an' your friends which are no more,
     If we 'adn't lost some comrades we would 'elp you to deplore.
     But give an' take's what the goddess says, an' we'll call the bargain fair,
     For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square!

 'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive,    An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead;  'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive,    An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead.

 'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb!
   'E's a berserk idiot on a spree,
 'E's the on'y thing that doesn't give a damn
   For a Regiment o' Lunar Infantree!
     So 'ere's to you, Blue-Arse, at your 'ome in high Sartar;
     You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man;
     An' 'ere's to you, Blue-Arse, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air -
     You big blue boundin' beggar - for you broke a Lunar square!


(see http://www.mvnc.edu:443/nzr/faculty/trearick/english/rearick/readings/manuscri/short_wo/poetry/kipling/fuzzy-wuzzy.htm for the original "Fuzzy-wuzzy")

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