Noel Coward Lyrics
Sep. 23rd, 2003 03:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I'm trying to collect them, but they seem to be very difficult to find on the net, curse them. :P
Just for my own amusement.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When our victory is ultimately won,
It was just those nasty Nazis who persuaded them to fight
And their Beethoven and Bach are really far worse than their bite
Let's be meek to them-
And turn the other cheek to them
And try to bring out their latent sense of fun.
Let's give them full air parity-
And treat the rats with charity,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
We must be kind
And with an open mind
We must endeavour to find
A way-
To let the Germans know that when the war is over
They are not the ones who'll have to pay.
We must be sweet-
And tactful and discreet
And when they've suffered defeat
We mustn't let
Them feel upset
Or ever get
The feeling that we're cross with them or hate them,
Our future policy must be to reinstate them.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When we've definitely got them on the run-
Let us treat them very kindly as we would a valued friend
We might send them out some Bishops as a form of lease and lend,
Let's be sweet to them-
And day by day repeat to them
That 'sterilization' simply isn't done.
Let's help the dirty swine again-
To occupy the Rhine again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
We must be just-
And win their love and trust
And in additon we must
Be wise
And ask the conquered lands to join our hands to aid them.
That would be a wonderful surprise.
For many years-
They've been in floods of tears
Because the poor little dears
Have been so wronged and only longed
To cheat the world,
Deplete the world
And beat
The world to blazes.
This is the moment when we ought to sing their praises.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
For you can't deprive a ganster of his gun
Though they've been a little naughty to the Czechs and Poles and Dutch
But I don't suppose those countries really minded very much
Let's be free with them and share the B.B.C. with them.
We mustn't prevent them basking in the sun.
Let's soften their defeat again-and build their bloody fleet again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When the age of peace and plenty has begun.
We must send them steel and oil and coal and everything they need
For their peaceable intentions can be always guaranteed.
Let's employ with them a sort of 'strength through joy' with them,
They're better than us at honest manly fun.
Let's let them feel they're swell again and bomb us all to hell again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
The Stately Homes of England
Lord Elder, Lord Borrowmere, Lord Sickert and Lord Camp
With ev'ry virtue, with ev'ry grace,
Are what avails the sceptred race.
Here you see the four of us,
And there are so many more of us
Eldest sons that must succeed,
We know how Caesar conquer'd Gaul
And how to whack a cricket ball,
Apart from this, our education
Lacks coordination.
Tho' we're young and rather tentative
We're rip-re-presentative,
Scions of a noble breed,
We are the products of those homes serene and stately
Which only lately seems to have run to seed!
The stately homes of England how beautiful they stand,
To prove the upper classes have still the upper hand;
Tho' the fact they have to be rebuilt
And frequently mortgag'd to the hilt
Is inclin'd to take the gilt off the gingerbread,
And certainly damps the fun,
Of the eldest son.
But still we won't be beaten,
We'll scrimp and screw and save,
The playing fields of Eton have made us frightfully brave
And tho' if the Van Dykes have to go
And we pawn the Bechstein grand
We'll stand by the stately homes of England
Have you seen the pick of us
You may be heartily sick of us
Still with sense we're all imbued
Our homes command extensive views.
And with assistance from the Jews.
We have been able to dispose of
Rows and rows and rows of
Gainsboroughs and Lawrences
Some sporting prints of Aunt Florences
Some of which we rather rude
Altho' we sometimes flaunt our family conventions
Our good intentions
Mustn't be misconstrued.
The stately homes of England we proudly represent,
We only keep them up for Americans to rent.
Tho' the pipes that supply the bathroom burst
And the lavat'ry makes you fear the worst
It was used by Charles the first (quite informally),
And later by George the fourth on a journey north,
The state apartments keep their historical reknown,
It's wiser not to sleep there in case they tumble down;
But still if they ever catch on fire
Which with any luck they might,
We'll fight for the stately homes of England.
The stately homes of England tho' rather in the lurch,
Provide a lot of chances for psychical research
There's a ghost of a crazy younger son,
Who murder'd in thirteen fifty one,
An extremely rowdy nun (who resented it),
And people who come to call
Meet her in the hall.
The baby in the guest wing who crouches by the grate,
Was wall'd up in the west wing in fourteen twenty eight.
If anyone spots the Queen of Scots in a hand embroider'd shroud,
We're proud of the stately homes of England.
If anyone can find me the full lyrics to "London Pride" I will love them forever. There are at least three verses, not counting the refrain.
Just for my own amusement.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When our victory is ultimately won,
It was just those nasty Nazis who persuaded them to fight
And their Beethoven and Bach are really far worse than their bite
Let's be meek to them-
And turn the other cheek to them
And try to bring out their latent sense of fun.
Let's give them full air parity-
And treat the rats with charity,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
We must be kind
And with an open mind
We must endeavour to find
A way-
To let the Germans know that when the war is over
They are not the ones who'll have to pay.
We must be sweet-
And tactful and discreet
And when they've suffered defeat
We mustn't let
Them feel upset
Or ever get
The feeling that we're cross with them or hate them,
Our future policy must be to reinstate them.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When we've definitely got them on the run-
Let us treat them very kindly as we would a valued friend
We might send them out some Bishops as a form of lease and lend,
Let's be sweet to them-
And day by day repeat to them
That 'sterilization' simply isn't done.
Let's help the dirty swine again-
To occupy the Rhine again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
We must be just-
And win their love and trust
And in additon we must
Be wise
And ask the conquered lands to join our hands to aid them.
That would be a wonderful surprise.
For many years-
They've been in floods of tears
Because the poor little dears
Have been so wronged and only longed
To cheat the world,
Deplete the world
And beat
The world to blazes.
This is the moment when we ought to sing their praises.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
For you can't deprive a ganster of his gun
Though they've been a little naughty to the Czechs and Poles and Dutch
But I don't suppose those countries really minded very much
Let's be free with them and share the B.B.C. with them.
We mustn't prevent them basking in the sun.
Let's soften their defeat again-and build their bloody fleet again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
Don't let's be beastly to the Germans
When the age of peace and plenty has begun.
We must send them steel and oil and coal and everything they need
For their peaceable intentions can be always guaranteed.
Let's employ with them a sort of 'strength through joy' with them,
They're better than us at honest manly fun.
Let's let them feel they're swell again and bomb us all to hell again,
But don't let's be beastly to the Hun.
The Stately Homes of England
Lord Elder, Lord Borrowmere, Lord Sickert and Lord Camp
With ev'ry virtue, with ev'ry grace,
Are what avails the sceptred race.
Here you see the four of us,
And there are so many more of us
Eldest sons that must succeed,
We know how Caesar conquer'd Gaul
And how to whack a cricket ball,
Apart from this, our education
Lacks coordination.
Tho' we're young and rather tentative
We're rip-re-presentative,
Scions of a noble breed,
We are the products of those homes serene and stately
Which only lately seems to have run to seed!
The stately homes of England how beautiful they stand,
To prove the upper classes have still the upper hand;
Tho' the fact they have to be rebuilt
And frequently mortgag'd to the hilt
Is inclin'd to take the gilt off the gingerbread,
And certainly damps the fun,
Of the eldest son.
But still we won't be beaten,
We'll scrimp and screw and save,
The playing fields of Eton have made us frightfully brave
And tho' if the Van Dykes have to go
And we pawn the Bechstein grand
We'll stand by the stately homes of England
Have you seen the pick of us
You may be heartily sick of us
Still with sense we're all imbued
Our homes command extensive views.
And with assistance from the Jews.
We have been able to dispose of
Rows and rows and rows of
Gainsboroughs and Lawrences
Some sporting prints of Aunt Florences
Some of which we rather rude
Altho' we sometimes flaunt our family conventions
Our good intentions
Mustn't be misconstrued.
The stately homes of England we proudly represent,
We only keep them up for Americans to rent.
Tho' the pipes that supply the bathroom burst
And the lavat'ry makes you fear the worst
It was used by Charles the first (quite informally),
And later by George the fourth on a journey north,
The state apartments keep their historical reknown,
It's wiser not to sleep there in case they tumble down;
But still if they ever catch on fire
Which with any luck they might,
We'll fight for the stately homes of England.
The stately homes of England tho' rather in the lurch,
Provide a lot of chances for psychical research
There's a ghost of a crazy younger son,
Who murder'd in thirteen fifty one,
An extremely rowdy nun (who resented it),
And people who come to call
Meet her in the hall.
The baby in the guest wing who crouches by the grate,
Was wall'd up in the west wing in fourteen twenty eight.
If anyone spots the Queen of Scots in a hand embroider'd shroud,
We're proud of the stately homes of England.
If anyone can find me the full lyrics to "London Pride" I will love them forever. There are at least three verses, not counting the refrain.
aha
Date: 2003-09-23 12:23 pm (UTC)London Pride
Noel Coward (1941)
[Note: The song was introduced in the Firth Shephard revue, "Up and Doing" at the Saville Theatre. The show, which had opened in April 1940, was interrupted by the Blitz and reopened in May 1941 for a run of a futher 322 performances. "London Pride" was introduced during the second part of the run and sung by Binnie Hale.]
London Pride has been handed down to us.
London Pride is a flower that's free.
London Pride means our own dear town to us,
And our pride it for ever will be.
Woa, Liza,
See the coster barrows,
Vegetable marrows
And the fruit piled high.
Woa, Liza,
Little London sparrows,
Covent Garden Market where the costers cry.
Cockney feet
Mark the beat of history.
Every street
Pins a memory down.
Nothing ever can quite replace
The grace of London Town.
INTERLUDE
There's a little city flower every spring unfailing
Growing in the crevices by some London railing,
Though it has a Latin name, in town and country-side
We in England call it London Pride.
London Pride has been handed down to us.
London Pride is a flower that's free.
London Pride means our own dear town to us,
And our pride it for ever will be.
Hey, lady,
When the day is dawning
See the policeman yawning
On his lonely beat.
Gay lady,
Mayfair in the morning,
Hear your footsteps echo in the empty street.
Early rain
And the pavement's glistening.
All Park Lane
In a shimmering gown.
Nothing ever could break or harm
The charm of London Town.
INTERLUDE
In our city darkened now, street and square and crescent,
We can feel our living past in our shadowed present,
Ghosts beside our starlit Thames
Who lived and loved and died
Keep throughout the ages London Pride.
London Pride has been handed down to us.
London Pride is a flower that's free.
London Pride means our own dear town to us,
And our pride it for ever will be.
Grey city
Stubbornly implanted,
Taken so for granted
For a thousand years.
Stay, city,
Smokily enchanted,
Cradle of our memories and hopes and fears.
Every Blitz
Your resistance
Toughening,
From the Ritz
To the Anchor and Crown,
Nothing ever could override
The pride of London Town.
Re: aha
Date: 2003-09-23 12:29 pm (UTC)You rock my world. :)
Re: aha
Date: 2003-09-23 12:36 pm (UTC)it was the least i could do after all the help you've given me. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-09-23 01:31 pm (UTC)*strolls off singing* "Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis..."