THE PIED BLOWPIPER OF KINGS LYNN

Track 11 of 'Cod Pieces'

Kings Lynn town's in Norfolk,

Beside the famous Wash.

The River Ouse, great and wide,

Washes its wall on the Western side,

A pleasanter spot you never spied.

But, when begins my ditty,

Many Christmases ago,

To see the townsfolk suffer so

From children, was a pity.

Brats!

They snowballed all the dogs and cats;

They lost their gloves and tore their raiment;

Swore with many damns and drats,

And rode their bikes upon the pavement.

They knocked off all the policemen's hats,

Put holly in the old men's spats,

And altered all the thermostats.

Brats!

In and out like acrobats

They crept in every nook and cranny,

Over walls and under mats,

And all around poor frightened Fanny.

Until the Mayor decided that

Something really must be done,

To put an end to all their fun,

And called his secretariat.

All day they met in council,

That snowy Christmas Eve,

With nothing to announce, till

The Mayor cried "I believe

I've got it, now I clearly see,

How we might have some harmony.

We'll advertise a big retainer

And hire a children's entertainer!"

They sent the word both high and low,

To search for such a one,

Till striding up the Downham Road

Came Mrs Winkle's son.

"Bring out your brats", this hero cried,

"And I'll soon have them pacified.

A tune or two from out my pipes

And they'll be good as gold".

He piped and played with all his heart;

The pipes, the pipes were calling.

But clearly, from the very start,

It really was appalling!

"Rats!" cried the brats, as they covered their ears;

"Rats!" yelled the brats as their eyes filled with tears.

Until, as the pipes on and upward did soar,

Their delicate ears could stand it no more.

This carol of beauty and joy was bereft;

The brats all cursed and blinded and effed,

Then made their excuses, impolitely, and left,

And troubled the town no more.

So, duty done, you must agree,

The piper went to seek his fee.

But though, that very afternoon,

They'd asked him in, and called the tune,

And though he'd scared the brats away,

Nobody wanted the piper to pay.

And so he cursed them, and their spoues,

And wished a plague on all their houses.

He turned his back on Kings Lynn then,

Swearing never to return again.

Peace then, at last, on Christmas Eve;

The folk of Lynn could scarce believe.

No brats to give them furrowed brows,

And no more of that piper's row.

They sat a while besides their fires,

Then put on glam, and glitter,

And to the Town Hall they retired,

None needing a baby sitter.

They drank and danced till very late,

Thinking that this life was great;

Though Christmas Day was almost dawning,

They could have a lie-in in the morning.

And now you're thinking, I expect,

That everything was just perfect.

But truth to tell it all seemed queer,

They missed those awful brats I fear.

Unopened presents 'neath the tree;

No little smiles where smiles should be;

No-one to dandle on daddy's knee.

They realised then how much they missed them,

And if they'd been there, they would surely have kissed them.

But hark - the awful silence breaks.

What is that row, for goodness sakes?

It sounds like little running feet -

The brats are scampering up the street!

Brats!  They swept back into town just like

A tidal wave of noise might strike.

Up the streets and into the houses,

With mud on their knees, and tar on their trousers.

With fingers fast, and scissors swift,

They stripped the wrappings from the gifts.

They beat the drums, blew the trumpets,

Ate all the cakes, and pies, and crumpets.

They bit their Uncles and cheeked their Aunts,

Put glue in all the potted plants,

And answered all requests with "Shan't!"

But after they had gone to bed,

To dream the morrow's mischief,

Then many a prayer of thanks was said

To many a dampened kerchief.

And so the folk of Lynn go on.

And though they sometimes feel depressed,

By all the brats, and need a rest,

A single thought, and all's redressed -

At least that bloody piper's gone!