Last blog ? last......

 A song about Death, funerals and wakes, very full of idioms, cliches, and similar! My Italics and colour fisking: mike!

The Last Will and Testament of Jake Thackray

Words & Music: Jake Thackray Click here to download guitar tab I, the under-mentioned, by this document Do declare my true intentions, my last will, my testament. When I turn up my toes, when I rattle my clack, when I agonise, I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands, No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's and none of your sad adieus. Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze, boys. Death, where is thy victory? Grave, where is thy sting? When I snuff it bury me quickly, then let carousels begin - But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please". Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons( A gay gordon is a dance, traditional, lively,) And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time. And if the coppers come around, well, tell them the party's mine, boys. Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass, Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed. Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot: Grow a dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow But no forget-me-nots, no epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let my memory slip. You can say a prayer or two for my soul then, but - make it quick, boys. Lady, if your bosom is heaving don't waste your bosom on me. Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see. And to my cronies: you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car. And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar, And sing my songs, wear my shirts. You can even settle my debts. You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but - no regrets, boys. Your rosebuds are numbered; (Classic quote:gather ye rosebuds while ye may, equivale en parte a lo que han de comer los gusanosetc..) Gather them now for rosebuds' sake. And if your hands aren't too encumbered Gather a bud or two for Jake. Click here to download guitar tab and another: Family Grave Words & Music: Jake Thackray Click here to download guitar tab I’ve got uncles and aunties and cousins and nephews and sisters-in-law. Our family swarms with them; it teems; they are thicker than flies. Sisters and brothers and cousins and daughters and mothers galore, The only time when all of us meet is when one of us dies. At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, Whenever you go there’s always more arrive. At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live Dead but there are dozens of us alive. Take a family christening, well nobody goes to those, And a family wedding more often than not’s an all ticket affair, But a funeral’s free for all you can go in the same old clothes No need to buy him a present so all of the family’s there. You sit in the chapel and whisper and meditate over the stiff. You never speak ill of him – especially if you were close - But: "What a good family man, and a wonderful friend," even if The defunct was a pain in the arse and he died of a dose! At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, Whenever you go there’s always more arrive. At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live Dead but there are dozens of us alive. There are those of course who just stand aghast and just gawp They cannot manage to cry – and there’s others who cannot refrain: Willy-nilly they bellow and howl at the drop of a corpse. In a couple of weeks they’ve forgotten the poor bastard’s name. Then there are those of course who turn up and can then hardly wait For the coffin to drop and the vicar to stop the and the sobbing subside. And then they are barely a blur as they sprint for the cemetery gates To go get their hands on the money, the food, or the widow’s backside. Bt the grave, by the grave, by the family, family grave, Whenever you go there’s always more arrive. At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live Dead but there are dozens of us alive. There are one or two "do"s turn out disappointingly in the extreme, Where the booze is rough and the grub is duff and no flowers at all, And the mother embarrasses you with a sudden hysterical scream, Where the coffin you came to see off is pathetically small. We do the round of the family faces and pay our respects The "We’ll have to be going." "How nice." "How sad." The "Thankings you." We are studying form and weighing up who it is going to be next To go under the slab. Whose turn to pay for the very next "do". Bt the grave, by the grave, by the family, family grave, Whenever you go there’s always more arrive. At the grave, at the grave, at the family, family grave, For every dead one there are dozens of us alive, live, live Dead but there are dozens of us alive. Click here to download guitar tab