Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Like Nuns They Cross Themselves Each Day

I used to sing in a couple of school choirs in the Hague, but KAS doesn't have one. Instead, I have resorted to organizing my sometimes reluctant family members into an a cappella group. We have some madrigals written by PDQ Bach (aka Peter Schickele), and they are the embodiment of irreverence.

Sample lyrics: My Bonnie Lass, she smelleth / Making the flowers jealouth / Fa la la la la, fa la la la / My Bonnie Lass she looketh like a jewel / And soundeth like a mule, / My Bonnie Lass, she walketh like a doe / And talketh like a crow . . . etc.

We also have some 3-part rounds by PDQ Bach. My very favorite one is called "Jane", and the 3 parts, sung separately, sound like a traditional love song, very classical, whatever. Together, however, they produce some very creative insults. Ed's favorite is, "And her breath is like down/wind of a compost heap on fire." My favorite is, "With her eyes black as nuns / like nuns they cross themselves each day."

Stand by for concert details.

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