Favourite matelot song

Discussion in 'Diamond Lil's' started by fishmiester, Jul 28, 2006.

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  1. Apoliogies if this has already been covered, but what is every ones favourite drunk matelot song.

    My particular song of choice is the lobster song :lol:
  2. Gizza a reminder on that one (greycells fading etc)

    What about:

    'I don't want to join the Navy,
    I don't want to go to sea.
    I'd rather hang around
    Piccadilly underground
    etc etc....

    Four and twenty virgins
    Came down from Inverness.......

    Lots more, but I need to be sozzled to remember them :!:

    Shep Wooley probably has 'em all recorded anyway.

  3. You asked for it

    "Oh Mr Fisherman home from the sea have you got a lobster you can sell to me?

    Singing Ho Tiddly Ho s**t or bust
    Never let your B***ocks dangle in the dust"

    What about Aladdin??
  4. Dock yard maties children, sitting on a dockyard wall.
    Watching their fathers doing F**k all.
    When they grow older, they'll be dock yard maties too.
    Just like their Fathers, F**k all to do.
  5. Song from the Bier Keller Plymouth circa 1974 - (I've never heard it since)

    She wore, she wore, she wore a yellow ribbon
    She wore a yellow ribbon in the merry month of May
    and if you asked her why the hell she wore it
    She wore it for a Tiffy who is far far away.

    Booties had a different song but same tune - kept trying to drown each other out
  6. About as much as I can remember....

    There once was a lad named Aladdin
    Who had magic lamp.......

    da de da de da .......etc etc

    'fathoms up a tramp'

  7. This could roll on for a few years.

    Now sit me down
    Buy me a drink
    And a story to you I'll tell
    Of dead eye dick with the cast iron pr**k
    And a harlot named ESKIMO NELL
  8. Yeah I remember that one we used to sing it all the time at Fisgard as a baby tiff in 1971.

    She wore, she wore, she wore a yellow ribbon
    She wore a yellow ribbon in the merry month of May
    and if you asked her why the hell she wore it
    She wore it for a Tiffy who is far far away.

    far away.....not far enough ....far away ....not far enough

    She wore it for a tiffy who was far far away
  9. What about the old Shep Woolley favourite

    I was walking thro the dockyard one morning bright and fair
    When a sailor came towards me he had long and shaggy hair
    And he looked for all the world as though he didn't have a care
    And he said "Why are you looking at me? "
    He said....
    See me in me civvies mate
    I'm really quite the stuff
    And when I puts me Brut on
    I smells just like a pouf, I'm a smoothie from R N B....

    La la la la lalalaaaa la la la la laaaa

    La la la la lalalaaaa la la la la laaaa

    La la la la lalalaaaa la la la la laaaa

    Ram it mate I'm R D P
  10. There once was a lad called Alladin
    Who had a magic Lamp
    He stole it off a Matelot who was fathoms up a tramp
    He stole it off a Matelot to see what he could get
    And he rubbbed and rubbed and rubbed and rubbed
    But he ain't got F***all yet

    La de da fiddle dee
    60 annas equals one rupee
    feed of ar8e up a sycamour tree
    poor bu**er Janner

    The Sultan saidf to Alladin
    my palace you will paint
    Alladin like a big OD said - No I fu**in aint
    So he armed himself with a paintbrush and a pot of black enamel
    and he shoved it up the A**sehole of the sultan's favourite camel

    And we'll all go back to Oggie land (where's that)
    to Oggie land (where's that )
    To Oggieland
    And we'll all go back to Oggie land
    Where they cant tell ???? from tissue paper tissue paper marmalade and jam
  11. Do your balls hang low
    Can you swing 'em to and fro
    Can you tie 'em in a knot
    Can you tie 'em in a bow
    Do you get a funny feeling
    When they're hanging from the ceiling
    Oh you'll never be a sailor if your balls hang low!

    (Perhaps not the original lyrics but I like 'em!)
  12. Oggie oggie oggie
    oi oi oi



    oggie oggie oggie
    oi oi oi

    Aha ! ze liddle grey cells isa becummin alive !!!
  13. We're off to see the wild west show
    The elephant and the wild Kargaroo
    We'll all stick together
    In all Kinds of weather
    We're off to see the wild west show

    In this corner we have the GI Raffe
    The GI Raffe? What the F*cks that?
    The only animal who can stand in the bar and say 'The High Balls are on me.

    We're off to see........

    And in this corner we have the OOMEGOOLIE Bird
    The OOMEGOOLIE Bird? What the F*cks that?
    This is a verry large bird which has very short legs
    and when it comes in to land it is heard to scream OOMEGOOLIES

    We're off to see.........

    And in this corner we have the FAKAWI Tribe
    The FAKAWI Tribe? What the F*cks that?
    This is a tribe of three foot pigmies who hunt in the six foot elephant grass and if they ever get lost they jump up in the air and shout Were the FAKAWI

    (It goes on forever)
  14. Can`t remember any at the moment - I`m not p1ssed yet :lol: [​IMG]
  15. I remember a folk night in Lotties in Gib during Spring Train - must be around 1980. Rab and Fred 'Orrible' off the London on fiddle and guitar - place was packed.

    Old favourites including the Chandler's Wife, Marco Polo, Leaving of Liverpool and Ram It.

    Cheef Tiff - have just found full set of words to Ram It - no time to type out yet though!
  18. another verse to be inserted as above or sung as a separted song all after the Aladin song

    "Half a pound of flower and rice
    make a lovley clacker
    Just enough for you and me
    Cor bugger Janer
    Oh ow appy us a'll be
    when w'ere off to the west county
    Cor bugger janner"

    "You make fast (increase in tempo or beat)
    Kiss my arse
    Make fast the dinghy

    You make fast
    Kiss my arse
    Make fast the dinghy"

    And we'll all go back to Oggie land .....etc.

    Can cut short The Eskimo Nell bit

    "Gather round all you whorey

    Gather round and hear this story.

    When a man rows old, & his balls grow cold

    And the tip of his prick turns blue,

    It bends in the middle like a 1 string fiddle

    He can tell you a tale or two.

    So pull up a chair, and stand me a drink

    And a tale to you I'll tell

    Of Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete,

    And a harlot called Eskimo Nell.

    When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete

    Go forth in search of fun

    It's Dead-eye Dick that slings the prick

    And Mexican Pete the gun.

    When Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete

    Are sore, depressed and sad

    It's always a c**t that bears the brunt

    Bat the shooting ain't so bad.

    Now Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete

    Live down by Dead Man's Creek

    And such was their luck they'd had no f**k

    For nigh on half a week.

    Just a moose or two and a caribou,

    And a bison cow or so,

    And for Dead-eye Dick with his kingly prick

    This f**king was mighty slow.

    So do or dare this horny pair

    Set forth for the Rio Grande,

    Dead-eye Dick with his mighty prick

    And Pete with his gun in his hand.

    And as they blazed their noisy trail

    No man their path withstood,

    And many a bride, her husband's pride

    A pregnant widow stood.

    They reached the strand of the Rio Grande

    At the height of a blazing noon,

    And to slack their thirst and do their worst

    They sought Black Mike's Saloon.

    And as they pushed the great doors wide

    Both prick and gun flashed free.

    According to sex, you bleeding wrecks,

    You drink or f**k with me."

    They'd heard of Dead-eye Dick,

    From Maine to Panama

    So with scarcely worse than a muttered cur

    Those dagos sought the bar.

    The girls too knew his playful ways

    Down on the Rio Grande,

    And forty whores pulled down their drawer

    At Dead-eye Dick's command.

    They saw the fingers of Mexican Pete

    Itch on the trigger grip

    And they didn't wait, at fearful rate

    Those whores began to strip.

    Now Dead-eye Dick was breathing quick

    With lecherous snorts and grunts

    So forty arses were bared to view

    And likewise forty c**ts.

    Now forty c**ts and forty arses

    If you can use your wits,

    And if you're slick at arithmetic,

    Makes exactly eighty tits.

    Now eighty tits are a gladsome sight

    For a man with a raging stand

    It may be rare in Berkeley Square

    But not on the Rio Grande.

    Now Dead-eye Dick had f**ked a few

    On the last preceding night,

    This he had done just to show his fun

    And to wet his appetite.

    His phallic limb was in f**king trim,

    As he backed and took a run

    He made a dart at the nearest tart

    And scored a hole in one.

    He bore her to the sandy floor

    And there he f**ked her fine

    And though she grinned

    It put the wind up the other thirty-nine.

    When Dead-eye Dick lets loose his prick

    He's got no time to spare,

    For speed & length combined with strength

    He fairly singes hair.

    He made a dart at the next spare tart,

    When into that harlot's hell

    Strode a gentle maid who was unafraid,

    And her name it was Eskimo Nell.

    By this time Dick had got his prick

    Well into number two

    When Eskimo Nell let out a yell,

    She bawled to him, "Hey you."

    He gave a flick of his muscular prick

    And the girl flew over his head,

    And he wheeled about with an angry shout.

    His face and his prick were red.

    She glanced our hero up and down,

    His looks she seemed to decry,

    With utter scorn she glimpsed the horn

    That rose from his hairy thigh.

    She blew the smoke from her cigarette

    Over his steaming knob

    So utterly beat was Mexican Pete

    He failed to do his job.

    It was Eskimo Nell who broke the spell

    In accents clear and cool,

    "You c**t struck shrimp of a Yankee pimp.

    You call that thing a tool?"

    "If this here town can't take that down,"

    She sneered to those cowering whores,

    "There's one little c**t can do the stunt,

    It's Eskimo Nell's, not yours."

    She stripped her garments one by one

    With an air of conscious pride

    And as she stood in her womanhood

    They saw the great divide.

    She seated herself on a table top

    Where someone had left his glass,

    With a twitch of her tits she crushed it to bits

    Between the cheeks of her arse.

    She flexed her knees with supple ease,

    And spread her legs apart,

    With a friendly nod to the mangy sod

    She gave him the cue to start.

    But Dead-eye Dick knew a trick or two,

    He meant to take his time,

    And a girl like this was f**king bliss

    So he played the pantomime.

    He flexed his arse hole to and fro

    And made his balls inflate

    Until they looked like granite knobs

    Up on a garden gate.

    He blew his anus inside out,

    His balls increased in size,

    His mighty prick grew twice as thick

    Till it almost reached his eyes.

    He polished it up with alcohol,

    And made it steaming hot

    To finish the job he sprinkled the knob

    With a cayenne pepperpot.

    Then neither did he take a run

    Nor did he take a leap,

    Nor did he stoop, but took a swoop

    And a steady forward creep.

    With piercing eye he took a sight

    Along his mighty tool,

    And the steady grin as he pushed it in

    Was calculatedly cool.

    Have you seen the giant pistons

    On the mighty C.P.R.

    With the driving force of a thousand horse.

    Well, you know what pistons are.

    Or you think you do. But you've yet to learn

    The ins and outs of the trick

    Of the work that's done on a non-stop run

    By a guy like Dead-eye Dick.

    But Eskimo Nell was no infidel,

    As good as whole harem

    With the strength of ten in her abdomen

    And the rock of ages between.

    Amid stops she could take the stream

    Like the flush of a watercloset,

    And she gripped his cock like a Yale Lock

    On the National Safe Deposit.

    But Dead-eye Dick could not come quick,

    He meant to conserve his powers,

    If he'd a mind he'd grind and grind

    For a couple of solid hours.

    Nell lay for a while with a subtle smile,

    The grip of her c**t grew keener,

    Squeezing her thigh she sucked him dry

    With the ease of a vacuum cleaner.

    She performed this trick in a way so slick

    As to set in complete defiance

    The basic cause and primary laws

    That govern sexual science.

    She calmly rode through the phallic code

    Which for years had stood the test,

    And the ancient rules of the classic schools

    In a second or two went West.

    And so my friends we come to the end

    Of copulation's classic

    The effect on Dick was sudden and quick

    And akin to an anesthetic.

    He fell to the floor, and knew no more

    His passions extinct and dead

    And he did not shout as his prick fell out

    Though 'twas stripped right down to a thread

    Then Mexican Pete jumped to his feet

    To avenge his pal's affront,

    With jarring jolt of his blue-nosed Colt

    He rammed it up her c**t.

    He rammed it up to the trigger grip

    And fired three times three

    But to his surprise she closed her eyes

    And smiled in ecstasy.

    She jumped to her feet with a smile so sweet

    "Bully", she said, "for you.

    Though I had guessed that was the best

    That you two poor cocks could do."

    "When next, my friend, that you intend

    To sally forth for fun

    Buy Dead-eye Dick a sugar stick

    And yourself an elephant gun.

    "I'm going back to the frozen North,

    Where the pricks are hard and strong.

    Back to the land of the frozen stand

    Where the nights are six months long.

    "It's hard as tin when they put it in

    In the land where spunk is spunk

    Not a trickling stream of lukewarm cream

    But a solid frozen chunk.

    "Back to the land where they understand

    What it means to fornicate,

    Where even the dead sleep two in a bed

    And the babies masturbate.

    "Back to the land of the grinding gland,

    Where the walrus plays with his prong,

    Where the polar bear wanks off in his lair

    That's where they'll sing this song.

    "They'll tell this tale on the Arctic Trail

    Where the nights are sixty below,

    Where it's so damn cold that the Johnnies are sold

    Wrapped up in a ball of snow.

    "In the valley of death with baited breath

    That's where they'll sing it too,

    Where the skeletons rattle in sexual battle,

    And the rotting corpses screw.

    "Back to the land where men are men,

    Terra Bellicum,

    And there I'll spend my worthy end

    For the North is calling: 'Come."'

    So Dead-eye Dick and Mexican Pete

    Slunk out of the Rio Grande,

    Dead-eye Dick with his useless prick

    And Pete with no gun in his hand"

  19. I also rather like this one which came from the HMS Kenya Association

    "Now pay attention for I 'ave a tale to tell & one that I 'eard when I wuz but a lad.

    'Arpin' Party.

    There wuz two Stokers - oppos - on a destroyer out in mid Atlantic.
    One wuz a good guy, name of 'Awkins an' t'other wuz a bad bastard, name of Morgan.

    But the ship wuz torpedoed & sunk wiv all 'ands. Morgan, the bad bastard, wuz not surprised one bit to find 'issen down below shuvvelin' the hinfernal boilers. One day, sweatin' off 'is goolies, therer wuz a tap on 'is shoulder - it wuz 'Awkins, joining 'im wiva shuvell.

    " 'ullo, ops' " 'e said, "watchoo doin' down 'ere - I fort you wuz up top wiv the dab-dabs?"
    "Well I wuz" sez 'Awkins, "but I seem to 'ave blotted me copybook an' it ain't seemed to 'ave werked out."

    "Really, old mate, 'ow wuz that then - do tell! " 'e sez.
    "Well" sez 'Awkins, " it wuz like this - when the tin fish gets us, I finds mesen outside the gilded gates of 'eaven, where they seems to 'ave bin 'spectin' me. So I goes in, ticks me name orf an' gits stuck into me joinin' routine, draws me Pusser 'arp, me Pusser's wings an' me pusser's 'alo and me Pussers No.7's werkin' gown, an' I sling me new 'ammock on a luverley cloud an' gits me 'ead down."

    Next mornin' after "Wakey wakey, call the bleedin' angels" an' after Mornin' Divisions, the Chief Seraph's Mate starts tellin' orf werkin' parties from the right end hof the line.
    "Right, pay 'tension," sez 'e, " from 'ere to 'ere is Pearly gates polishin' Party. 'ere to 'ere is fiery chariots wheel greasin'. look at me you nasty likkle bastard ! 'ere to 'ere is Lord Gods messengers.......... Remainder - 'Arpin Party."

    "So I 'arps from then till stand easy an' from then to Tot Time an' I wuz a bit choker like by then too - after which we secure's fer the day - back to me likkle cloud fer a make 'n mend."

    Next day we gits fell-in an' I boxes clever an' I fall-in on the right, ana Leadin' Angel comes up an' starts frum the left 'and end.
    "Right, pay 'tension," sez 'e, " from 'ere to 'ere is Pearly gates polishin' Party. 'ere to 'ere is fiery chariots wheel greasin'. look at me you nasty likkle bastard ! 'ere to 'ere is Lord Gods messengers.......... Remainder - 'Arpin Party."

    So once agin I 'arps til stand easy, then till Tot Time an' we secures an' I gits me 'ead down an' I am very chokker.

    On day free, I gits fell-in in the middle of the Angel Squad an' a PO Angel comes up an' takes 2 parties frum the right, 2 frum the left - an' then he sez to us idiots in the middle - remainder 'arpin'."

    So I've 'ad enough an' I sez, "I've 'ad enough" an' I frows down me 'arp down a cloud an' I sez, "I'm chokker wiv 'arpin' I ain't doin' it no more."
    So the Leadin' Angel calls the Chief Angel, oo sez, "wassa matter wiv yoo my son" 'e sez.
    I sez, "I'm bloody chokker wiv 'arpin' & i ain't a doing' it no more".

    So the Chief Angel calls the Chief Seraph's Mate an' we goes frew the 'ole fing once more.
    "Ok" 'e sez, "Archangels report" an' the next day the Master o' 'Arps marches me in to see the Duty Archangel.

    "Orf 'alo - Acting Ordinary Angel 'Awkins, Sir, did act wiv predudice to good horder an' 'eavenly discilpine in the 'e did refuse to 'arp"
    "Is that right" sez the Archangel, "yus, sir" sez I , " an' I'm bleedin' chokker wiv 'arpin'"
    "welly well" sez the Archangel, "Creators report - next case"

    The next day the Master o' 'Arps marches me in to see the Bloke - the Creator 'imself.
    "Well" sez the Creator, "wot 'ave yoo got to say for yerself"

    So I tells 'im an 'e sez "Acting Ordinary Angel 'Awkins, all acting angels 'as to do their bit at 'arpin when they comes here, speshlly the ordinary angels like you - tis diffrent for Uppercloud Angels or Sparker Angels, an; speshally Bootie Angels, cos Bootie Angels can do wrong."

    "Well I is very sorry but I is chokker wiv 'arpin' an' I done wanna be doin' it no more, anyway I wuz a Stoker & no one goes nowhere wivout us lot."

    "Right Acting Ordinary Angel 'awkins" he sez, " there's nuffin more I can do - I 'as to do fings by the books - yoo force my harm - scale!" 'e sez.
    "SCALE" sez the Master o' 'Arps " firty days number E11's - right turn, quick marchleftrightleftright wheel - 'alt"

    So me 'ole mucker 'ere I am! this is wot 'appens wen yoo refooses to be 'arpin' party - but I fink it wuz cos of all those Booties not likin' us stokers."


    Reproduced wiv great respect to an annony mouse contributer to HMS Kenya Assoc - I 've bin looking for this since the Jossman was but a lad.

  20. Jeez,

    Aladin and Rammit I'm RDP take me back.

    I remember scraps of two songs:

    "Next onboard was the GI's wife, and she was dressed in Green Sir,
    And in one corner of her ***t she stored the magazine,
    She stored the magazine Sir, the cordite and the shells,
    And in the other corner was the 4.5 gun as well"

    The other was a version of the 12 days of Xmas, but all I can remember of that was the refrain:

    "and a one eyed w**ker off the CherryB"

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