GurdyBird's GurdyWords & live tunes from 2016

by GurdyBird

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released December 13, 2016

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GurdyBird England, UK

Based in Cornwall, GurdyBird plays a Hurdy-Gurdy over her backing tracks which she performs, programmes and records herself, creating original compositions and unusual renditions of traditional folk tunes & shanties, performing with her music videos projected where possible for a multimedia, story-telling effect. She also roams acoustically at events, performs plugged & also dabbles in remixing. ... more

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Track Name: Introduction
Greetings good people, from good old Penzance,
My name is GurdyBird, I mix folk tunes with trance,
And hornpipes with house and make some songs less wordy...
Because I can't sing, so I play hurdy-gurdy.

Which is what I am wearing, if you haven't seen
Or heard of a gurdy, it's something between
A grinder for coffee and a violin
Which is bowed by a wheel as I push the keys in.

So I'll play you some tunes on the themes of All Hallows
Via Montol and sailors and of course, Tyburn Gallows,
So enough of this intro, without further delay,
Sir, please push in that button to make me backing tracks play.
Track Name: Dr. Theobald Ph. D on ye Mock Mayor Campaign Trail
Well, I quite like the cut of the jib of Penryn,
I mean, you're reasonably clean and we know where you've been.
Let's assume that you're lucky, and it's me you elect,
I'll shut down your surgery with immediate effect
And open my own, within a matter of weeks
All he GPs around will be wearing these beaks.

If you're sick of queuing to make an appointment,
I recommend cure-alls and tinctures and ointments.
I'll dose you all up then you won't care a jot
When I rinse all you 'Rynners for all that you've got,
I mean...rinse all you winners free of infection.

If physicians should happen to win this election
The transport could run seven times to the hour,
And this isn't just nonsense just to get into power.
We'll end all the buses and replace them with carts,
They've, er, got their own bells and they stop and they start,
You just jump on the back as you would with a sled
And join in the chorus of "bring out yer dead!"

And I don't care for status, you'll all get the same
Dreadful service from me, everyone is fair game.
For example, a mayor with a dose of the pox
Gets the same awful treatment as a bloke in the stocks.
Though, if there's money involved, at a price,
We could warm up the probes and chase of the mice,
I could give you some privacy when you pass water
And clean every instrument, blade, saw and cauter.

What I'm also suggesting is building a wall.
Don't let any Falmouthians in here at all,
Or before you could say "Mochaccino Iced Latté"
All the hipsters would come and make everything arty
With obligatory signs, saying "Hey, Life's a Beach",
And no concept at all on the use of a leech,
Which, Coincidentally, we'd hand out for free
As they're good for your health and they're great company.

In schooling, we'd bring back charting the stars,
And focus on humours, the head, and the arse
As they're often the cause of humanity's ills,
And I ought to know as I make all the pills,
(And distribute the bills, and read all the wills and get all the thrills!)

And to all of you youths who are kicking about,
You'll get future employment, of that there's no doubt,
For there's always demand for more undertakers
In all of the towns where we are the rule makers.

So for boosts in the town of Penryn's economics
And health as distributors of our Top Tonics,
Vote, Dr. Theo, I'm the leader for you,
'Cause when there's nobody left, then their won't be a queue!
Track Name: Davy Jones Live at the Exeter Phoenix
So me ship ran aground, and was somehow in flames.
Now, I'm not pointing fingers nor shall I name names
But the lesson is "Don't trust your ship with musicians
Who are drunk and distracted, or you'll need a physician,
Or a good undertaker, as your ship and the crew
Give the cannibal islands a free barbecue.

Somewhat in a pickle, I sent of a note
Attached to a parrot and here's what I wrote:
"Dear Black Flag, the first name in galleon recovery,
Please send out a man, thanks, that would be loverly.
If he can mend boats, too that would be a bonus,
Me nautical luck's, so far's on par with Jonah's."

So I waited a week, and I drank all the rum,
And I thought to meself, "Oh God, no one will come",
When out of the blue, The Flying Dutchman appeared,
Which, if you don't know, is a little bit feared
By seafarers such as my self I confess
As I sat all alone after causing this mess.

"Well, shiver me timbers, and rattle me bones,
If it isn't me dearest friend, Davy Jones!
Could I nab a lift back to Jolly Penzance
Or Brixham or anywhere? I'll do you a dance!
Or I'll write you a tune, one especially for you,
And I'll play it at every gig that I do!

So Brixham it was, And Jones had new members
Of crew, and it's cool, because no one remembers
How they even got there, so we're, all of us, winners,
Especially the cannibals, who had many fine dinners!
Track Name: A Pirate's "Special Friend"
GIRDYBIRD: My sets of songs of ill-repute were sometimes sung by bawds,
And if you liked you could drum along or even strum the chords.
From lowly jolly jack tars up to the House of Lords.
A pirate's "Special Friend" is one that we can all afford!

A pirate's "Special Friend", me boys is skilled beyond all measure.
They don't have to be decked in jewels to qualify as treasure!
Though, perhaps they are a little worn from going like a thresher,
They may be frayed, these lads and maids, who specialise in pleasure.

So what if they have lice or fleas or mites, or even rickets?
So what if they have tufts of hair in random growing thickets?
They have a queue a mile long, that now they must punch tickets!
Just exit past the gift shop run by quacks if you get sick. It's

A pirate's "Special Friend", the one who'll always lend an ear...
Providing it's not fallen off through syphallis, they'll hear.
You can cry upon their shoulders, their breasts or even rear
And they'll forward your concern via mucky nights with buccaneers

I'll end me poem now, before me rhymes get any sicker.
The quality is going down and me puns ain't getting slicker.
I'll have to do half rhymes and jokes about a doxie's knickers...

MME FANDANGO: Oh just stick to your cranking!

GURDYBIRD to FR. PRIESTLY: Said the actress to the vicar