The Rev asked:
<< But *what* song from Camelot? "Take me to the Fair" is as close as I can
figure as a knights doing battle song, but I don't recall those lyrics.
Please
advise! >>
And the resident Broadway afficinado once again answers: (Hey! Maybe this can
be a new career for me!)
The song is called Fie on Goodness. It is sung in the 2nd Act by Mordred, who
is determined to wreck the peace and harmony of King Arthur's reign:
Fie on Goodness
The Knights, restive after years of peace under the Round Table, long for a
bit of mayhem, after Mordred has stirred them up:
Fie on goodness, fie!
Fie on goodness, fie!
Eight years of kindness to your neighbor . . .
Making sure that the meek are treated well.
Eight years of philanthropic labor!
Derry down dell!
Gad, but it's hell!
Oh, fie on goodness, fie!
Fie, fie, fie . . .
It's been depressing all the way,
Derry down, derry down,
And getting glummer ev'ry day,
Derry down, derry down.
Ah but to burn a little town,
Or slay a dozen men . . .
Anything to laugh again . . .
Oh, fie on goodness, fie!
Fie, fie, fie, fie, fie!
When I think of the rollicking pleasures
That earlier filled my life . . .
Lolly lo, lolly lo.
Like the time I beheaded a man
Who was beating his naked wife,
Lolly lo, lolly lo.
I can still hear his widow say
Never moving from where she lay . . .
"Tell me, what can I do,
I beg, Sir, of you . . .
Your kindness to repay?"
Fie on goodness, fie!
Fie on goodness, fie!
Lechery and vice have been arrested (arrested!) . . .
Not a maiden is ever more in threat.
Virgins may wander unmolested (unmolested!)
Lolly to, let! Gad, it's a sweat!
Oh, fie on goodness, fie!
Fie, fie, fie, fie. fie!
How we roared and brawled in Scotland (yea!)
Not a law was e'er obeyed (yea!)
And when wooin' called in Scotland, (yea!)
We'd grab any passing maid.
Ah, my heart is still in Scotland
Where the lassies woo'd the best . . .
On some bonnie hill in Scotland,
Stroking someone's bonnie . . . (breast).
Fie on Scotland, fie!
Fie on Scotland, fie!
No one repents for any sin now.
Ev'ry soul is immaculate and trim (immaculate!).
No one is covered with chagrin now,
Nonny no nim, Gad, but it's grim.
Oh, fie on goodness, fie!
Fie, fie, fie!
There's not a folly to deplore,
Derry down, derry down.
Confession Sunday is a bore,
Derry down, derry down.
Ah, but to spend a tortured ev'ning
Staring at the floor . . .
Guilty and alive once more.
Oh, fie on virtue, fie!
Fie on mercy, fie!
Fie on justice, fie on goodness,
Fie, fie, fie, fie, fie!
Hugs,
Ashara {who "cur her teeth" on Broadway}
