Jon Gibson - All's Faire lyrics

[Intro: Sir Jarlsberg] Everyone is chirp-chirp-chirping About the Fair now (Where is thy fair?) Why it's at the Fairgrounds, but of course! [Verse One: Jer aka Sir Jarlsberg] One day they will call this a Renaissance Fair But we are living in the now Why dost thou stop and stare? As the merchants emerge And my games of to yen(?) There goes Clerico Cotchery One of many fair friends! [Verse Two: Lateef the Truthspeaker aka Clerico Cotchery] Well I came to this fair as a cleric As you can see By my mace and kite shield But for some reason everyone is staring And asking me if I'm a priest or knight king Which is rather odd They must only be familiar with the Hobbit Or Harry Potter They're not hard core They know not the Dungeons and Dragons laws Of fighter cla**es I call them cla**less! They can't even discuss which they like more: Version 3.5 or four Ask them! I question their authenticity They're only here because they watched Game of Thrones season three ACH! Asses! I just came to watch of this joust And talk to this buxom wench selling meat on a stick And saying it's the best thing she's ever had in her mouth Which is something that I seriously doubt! Wanting to try her out Perhaps this horn of ale can be of some help (Perhaps!) It's so clever ('Tis true lyrical, cleric!) [Verse Three: Blockhead aka Gnomie] Ya'll check it, yo It's the gnone Coming to the fair Brushing my beard with a squirrel-tooth comb I gotta look sharp, I gotta look nice Should I bring my pipe or my homemade harp? Perhaps I'll play a song that will make the maidens work Catching her eyes with my pointed-toed shoes Sitting on a toadstool drinking some cold brew from a thimble A few more of these and I'm ready to fight your kinfolk Drink some more mead, go pee upon a tree No one notices me: I'm two-foot-three! By now I've had enough and I'm getting rambunctious So I drop-kick a mime and I'm out just like harvest! [Verse Four: Baby Dayliner aka William of Orange] I've got your wench and a yeoman, scrubbing my back Giving me a bath before I go to the fair You see, Williiam don't crack: always looking spanking And the peasants may stare And the noble cla**es ranking: the nobles are judging I'm deep in my cup so I want her to take it I want fire-breathing, potato-juggling Or something equally elating (Like what??) Like a man on a bed of nails Or a woman throwing poop yelling "bally-hoo!" From her windmill rail How's about knife-throwing? You know where I'm going A bean-bag toss A turkey leg with sauce But I may just stick with the performances of rhythm and rhyme The Canterbury chums, always on time Song poems: every day Song poems: every way (Forlorn Maiden: yea or nay?) (YEA!) [Verse Five: Forlorn Maiden] Rolling with my usual squires Although I was tired of taking off my chastity belt To be admired My corset is locked up and easy to pop in (Ooh, there's the Duke of Squirrel!) I'm so glad he dropped in (ARGH!) Gnomie's drunk and I'm back on a frot block The Duke cuts in, now we neck on the dock (So the Fair was a success?) Yes! But I keep on my dress And I Crush, k**, Destroy, Stress! For I'm a true maiden, the mother-huckin' best! And I can't be your lover.... [Verse Six: Mingus the Giant] (Hookah hookah hookah) What do I see there? From over the trees, I see the flags of the Fair Mingus the Giant here, and I'm living large I'll have you coming out your face just like Large Marge My voice has got a lot of ba**, but I'm gentle A friendly giant who is per-son-a-ble So never mind my appearance and [???] And watch as I bob for 37 apples Yah, I got 'em all! Say ho! (HO!) [Verse Seven: Jarlsberg] (Come on Jarlsberg, let's start this party) On this lovely sunny morn I was awoken from my slumber as the fat Fair blare I'd been dreaming of faeries, eating berries While riding in a carriage I slide on my pantaloons Tighten up my ascot The Fair has begun And I'm meeting the chums by that flat rock I can't wait To have some laughs and do some arts and crafts And participate In thy rotten tomato toss Where we get to hurl 'em at a bunch of burly men I looked enough to ride them some a sim-u-la-tion This different type of music gives me inspi-ra-tion And I go from .... to ... in just one in-stance Now listen as the Steedy King sings Why? He's finicky [Verse Eight: Steedy King] If you wanna ride on a horse's back You gotta swing your legs and grab the saddle strap Because the Fair's in state And I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!) I said hold on to my mane! And whip my a** again! And squeeze your legs so tight Cause I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!) So pat me on my thighs And help me shoo away these horseflies This ain't no pony ride I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!) (Pat-pat me on your thighs! Pat-pat me on your thighs!) See you at the stable [Verse Nine: Lord Richard] (Lord Richard: halt! Don't steal that prize) Why shouldn't I? (Because it took a lonely lovely little lad five tries To get that boysenberry pie) And now it's mine, as the boy starts to cry! Quiet! I need silence while I try it (You're horrible!) Anyway the boy needs a diet (Just horrible!) (Come on Richard, stop being such a scoundrel!) There's only two types of ladies in this land that I've ever met: Ones that I've slayed And those I haven't slayed yet I take a gander to my left and everything I see is righteous And I might bust the flyest maiden in a tight dress! I guess I got the golden touch like Mi-das Minus the titles with the highness Meeting all the chums at the Fair now's the best If they let their hair down I doth won't protest Now loosen up that bodice Now there go my bottoms! (Can you think of any word to describe this Fair?) Awesome (Okay Richard, that's great and all, but you said some very mean, disturbing things) Now you know baby (I would really recommend confessing your sins to Father Paul, he's right down yonder!) [Verse Ten: Aesop Rock aka Father Paul] I drink holy water with the holy ghost I got the mother(hark)in' lord on my breakfast toast I got a clean bowl cut and a robe with ropes I got the body and blood, I f**in' know the pope He said to love your mom and respect your neighbor Unless it's a family of filthy pagans Say ten Hail Marys on a daily basis I want to give a shout out to the baby Jesus I'm Father Paul Our Father, ya'll I'm a man of the cloth, got a cross on the wall And I wear sandals when I spread the gospel That's word to the twelve Apostles! (Go Paul! Go Paul! Be warned!) (That's my frisky granny, everyone guard your fannies!) [Verse Eleven: Kimya Dawson aka Thy Frisky Granny] Come hither for some sugar from Jarlsberg's grandmother In my giant bosom, I'd like to smother you And tell you how big you've gotten! A slip of the lip, cause I am besotted A slip of the lip, now a slip of the tongue In your ear as my hand finds its way to thine bum Then you give a little wink and I give a little curtesy Someone pa** the grog, cause granny's feeling dirty Now my velvet panties are in your golden drawers I like it when my man is hung like a horse! (Oh my!) Heh! Heh-heh-heh-heyyy! (And I'm about to buck back! Buck back!) (Oh Noble Father, there you are) (Tally ho!) (Can we hear some fife to get granny to stop embarra**ing me?) [Verse Twelve/Outro: Jon Gibson aka Noble Father Jon] My name's Noble. Father. Jon My fife playing is above and beyond Yes this current-day fair is so next Me thinks I'll toot a little doodle [*Fife plays*] (Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Tally Ho, hey!) [repeats]