Longshanks sings his songs
Next time he’ll sing ‘em again
But at least he varies the order
So you’re never quite sure when.
He's a Six Song Impresario
Beeb living on them for years
Sometimes the repetition
Almost drives a body to terars
His audiences sit there
And enthusiastically applaud
For it’s a sin not to do so
Or even to look bored
if Longshanks considers there’s not
enough movement of your hands
There’s quite a good chance
You’ll end up being banned.
And if he ever writes a new song
How on Earth will you know
If you’re on his naughty list
And aren’t allowed to go
Longshanks sings his songs
To the audience at large
Making sure they all know
That he’s the one in charge.
With his Bodhrum all muffled
So its varied sounds aren't heard
Longshanks blasts out his songs
And not a soul is spared
He's a Six Song Inresario
Performs at least a couple a week
So you shouldn't go watch him\
If its variety you seek
With a very restricted repertoire and a glance of steel Longshanks runs his Folk Music Club with an iron hand, and a muffled Bodhrum.
