Murder At The Red Barn Dance

Murder At The Red Barn Dance

"This is a true story about what happened at a dance held by the Union of Sweedbashers and Allied Trades, many years ago. It's the sort of local song what you get in different parts of the country, which are of no interest to anyone else, really. Unless you like sex and violence, of course.

"There's a lot of different versions of this song. In some versions the girl is called Frances, or even Genevieve, and the bloke is called Virgil. In some versions nobody murders nobody, and they all live happily ever after, except for the vicar, who gets a nasty cold. Sometimes it isn't a dance at all, but a cheese and wine party, and the murder happens the other way round. There's even a version in which none of the things what happen in this version happen at all. That one is called The Ash Grove. But, like I say, apart from that this is a real true story about what actually happened."

Sid Kipper

Murder At The Red Barn Dance appears on Sid's album Boiled In The Bag

When the Red Barn was used for the dancing,

There was one that stood out from the rest;

Sweet sixteen year old Fanny Fantail,

At her first dance, and in her best dress.

She knew that a maid must be cautious;

She knew not to trust men, because

She knew one thing led to the other,

But she didn't know which thing it was!

When Dick Dace asked her to polka

She blushed from her head to her toes,

Though naturally Dick couldn't see that,

'Cos she was still wearing her clothes.

They danced the Dashing White Privates,

They danced all the two steps and threes;

They danced in Sir Cassion's circle,

Till Sir Cassion gave at the knees.

They danced out the door to the moonlight,

For the night was not rainy nor cold;

Oh how she admired his hornpipe,

And he praised her ballroom hold.

In the Red Barn the others kept dancing,

Till all of a sudden they froze:

'Twas the worst scream that any remembered

Since Jack dance on Abigail's toes.

There on the steps lay the body

Stabbed through the heart, with an axe;

The blood spurted onto the paving,

And then it ran into the cracks.

Still holding the bloody weapon

Stood the flaming killer, who spake;

"Before we go any further,

I've got a confession to make"

"Oh I just could not stand to be spurned so,

As we went for our moonlit walk;

For intercourse I had been promised,

But then he just wanted to talk".

So, all you young Dicks, mind the Fannys;

The moral should now be quite clear;

Though you may have decent intentions

She may have a better idea!