Monty Python

Owl Stretching Time. How Not To Be Seen. Full Frontal Nudity. Blood, Devastation, Death, War and Horror. No, it's not Friday's Channel 4 schedule (9.00pm onwards), but a selection of titles of Monty Python episodes. With its relvolutionary, anarchic humour, Python has become something of a legend; a comedy yardstick by which all modern comedy is judged. Like the Goon Show before it, and perhaps like no other sketch show since (except maybe Not the Nine O' Clock News), Monty Python's Flying Circus was a milestone in light entertainment. Many Python sketches have become part of the national consciousness - sketches such as the dead parrot, the Spanish Inquisition, and Spam. So, without further ado, a pick of the best musical moments from Monty Python. It's...

All Things Dull and Ugly Always Look on the Bright Side of Life
From The Life of Brian

Brave Sir Robin
From Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail Decomposing Composers

Eric the Half-a-Bee Every Sperm is Sacred
From The Meaning of Life

I Like Chinese Knights of the Round Table (Camelot Song)
From Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail

The Lumberjack Song Philosophers' Drinking Song

All Things Dull and Ugly

To the tune of 'All Things Bright and Beautiful'

All things dull and ugly,
All creatures short and squat,
All things rude and nasty,
The Lord God made the lot.

Each little snake that poisons,
Each little wasp that stings,
He made their brutish venom,
He made their horrid wings.

All things sick and cancerous,
All evil great and small,
All things foul and dangerous,
The Lord God made them all.

Each nasty little hornet,
Each beastly little squid,
Who made the spiky urchin?
Who made the sharks? He did.

All things scabbed and ulcerous,
All pox both great and small,
Putrid, foul and gangrenous,
The Lord God made them all.

Amen.

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad,
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle,
Don't grumble, give a whistle,
And this'll,
Help things turn out for the best.

And, always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the light side of life.

If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten,
And that's to and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps,
Just purse your lips and whistle, that's the thing.

And, always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the right side of life.

For life is quite absurd,
And death's the final word,
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin,
Give the audience a grin.
Enjoy it, it's your last chance anyhow!

So, always look on the bright side of death,
Just before you draw your terminal breath.

Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it,
Life's a laugh, and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show,
Keep 'em laughing as you go,
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And, always look on the bright side of life.
Always look on the bright side of life.
Spoken: Come on Brian, cheer up.
Always look on the right side of life.
Always look on the bright side of life.
The refrain is repeated in the background as Mr. Frisbee (Eric Idle) talks to Brian (Graham Chapman).
Spoken: Worse things happen at sea, y'know.
I mean, what've you got to lose? Y'know, you've come from nothing, you're going back to nothing. What've you lost? Nothing!
Nothing will come from nothing, you know what they say. Cheer up y'old bugger - come on, give us a grin. There you are. See - it's the end of the film. Incidentally, this record is avaiable in the foyer. Some of us gotta live as well, y'know. Alright, that's the lot. Let's get this place sorted out, then. This show's dismantled within three weeks. Who d'you think pays for all this rubbish? They'll never make their money back, you know. I told him. I said to him, 'Bernie,' I said, 'They'll never make their money back.'

Brave Sir Robin

MINSTREL:
Bravely bold Sir Robin rode forth from Camelot,
He was not afraid to die, oh, brave Sir Robin.
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways,
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin.
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp,
Or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken,
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away,
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin.
His head smashed in, and his heart cut out,
And his liver removed and his bowles unplugged,
And his nostrils raped, and his bottom burned off,
And his penis...

SIR ROBIN:
That's, er... that's enough music for now, lads...

MINSTREL:
Brave Sir Robin ran away, (SIR ROBIN: No!)
Bravely ran away, away. (I didn't!)
When danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled, (No!)
Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about, (I didn't!)
And gallantly he chickened out,
Bravely taking to his feet, (I never did!)
He beat a very brave retreat, (All lies!)
The bravest of the brave, Sir Robin. (I never!)

Decomposing Composers

Beethoven's gone, but his music lives on,
And Mozart don't go shopping no more,
You'll never meet Liszt or Brahms again,
And Elgar doesn't answer the door.

Schubert and Chopin used to chuckle and laugh,
Whilst composing a long symphony,
But one hundred and fifty years later,
There's very little of them left to see.

They're decomposing composers,
There's nothing much anyone can do.
You can still hear Beethoven,
But Beethoven cannot hear you.

Handel and Haydn and Rachmaninov,
Enjoyed a nice drink with their meal,
But, nowadays no one will serve them,
And their gravy is left to congeal.

Verdi and Wagner delighted the crowds,
With their highly original sound.
The pianos they played are still working,
But they're both six feet underground.

They're decomposing composers,
There's less of them every year.
You can say what you like to Debussy,
But there's not much of him left to hear.

Claude Achille Debussy - Died, 1918.
Christoph Willibald Gluck - Died, 1787.
Carl Maria von Weber - Not at all well, 1825. Died, 1826.
Giacomo Meyerbeer - Still alive, 1863. Not still alive, 1864.
Modest Mussorgsky - 1880, going to parties. No fun anymore, 1881.
Johann Nepomuk Hummel - Chatting away nineteen to the dozen with his mates down the pub every evening, 1836. 1837, nothing.

Eric the Half-a-Bee

Spoken: "Half a bee, philosophically,
Must ipso facto half not be.
But half the bee, has got to be be,
Vis-a-vis, its entity. D'you see?
But can a bee be said to be,
Or not to be, an entire bee,
When half a bee is not a bee,
Due to some ancient injury?
Singing...

La-dee-dee, 1 2 3,
Eric the half-a-bee,
A B C D E F G,
Eric the half-a-bee.

Is this wretched demi-bee,
Half-asleep upon my knee,
Some freak from a menagerie?
No, it's Eric the half-a-bee!

Fiddle-dee-dum, fiddle-dee-dee.
Is Eric the half-a-bee,
Ho ho ho, tee hee hee,
Eric the half-a-bee.

I love this hive employee,
Bisected accidentally,
One summer afternoon by me,
I love him carnally.
Semi-carnally.

Spoken: "Cyril Connolly?"
"No, semi-carnally."
"Oh."
(Pause, then, sung softly)
Cyril Connolly.

Every Sperm is Sacred

There are Jews in the world, there are Buddhists,
There are Hindus, and Mormons and then,
There are those that follow Mohammed, but,
I've never been one of them...

I'm a Roman Catholic,
And have been since before I were born.
And the one thing they say about Catholics,
Is they'll take you as soon as you're warm.
You don't have to be a six-footer,
You don't have to have a great brain,
You don't have to have any clothes on,
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came.
Because...

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.
Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.

Let the heathen spill theirs on the dusty ground,
God shall make them pay for each sperm that can't be found.
Every sperm is wanted, every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed, in your neighbourhood.

Hindu, Taoist, Mormon, spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their semen with more care.

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.
Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed, in your neighbourhood.
Every sperm is useful, every sperm is fine.
God needs everybody's, mine, and mine, and mine.

Let the pagan spill theirs o'er mountain hill and plain,
God shall strike them down for each sperm that's spilt in vain.

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is good.
Every sperm is needed, in your neighbourhood.
Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great.
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.

I Like Chinese

Spoken: The world today seems absolutely crackers,
With nuclear bombs to blow us all sky high.
There's fools and idiots sitting on the trigger,
It's depressing and it's senseless, and that's why...

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
They only come up to your knees,
Yet they're always friendly, and they're ready to please.

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
There's nine hundred million of them in the world today.
You'd better learn to like them, that's what I say.

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
They come from a long way overseas,
But they're cute and they're cuddly, and they're ready to please.

I like Chinese food,
The waiters never are rude.
Think of the many things they've done to impress,
There's Maoism, Taoism, I Ching and chess.

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
I like their tiny little trees,
Their Zen, their ping-pong, their yin and yang-ese.

I like Chinese thought,
The wisdom that Confucious taught.
If Darwin is anything to shout about,
The Chinese will survive us all, without any doubt.

So, I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
They only come up to your knees,
Yet they're wise and they're witty, and they're ready to please.

All together,
Wo ai zhong-guo ren (I like Chinese)
Wo ai zhong-guo ren (I like Chinese)
Wo ai zhong-guo ren (I like Chinese)
Ni hao ma, ni hao ma, ni hao ma, zai jian. (How are you, how are you, how are you, goodbye)

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
Their food is guaranteed to please,
A fourteen, a seven, a nine, and lychees.

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
I like their tiny little trees,
Their Zen, their ping-pong, their yin and yang-ese.

I like Chinese, I like Chinese.
They only come up to your knees.

Knights of the Round Table (Camelot Song)

We're Knights of the Round Table,
We dance whene'er we're able,
We do routines and chorus scenes,
With footwork impeccable.
We dine well here in Camelot,
We eat ham and jam and spam a lot.

We're Knights of the Round Table,
Our shows are formidable,
But many times we're given rhymes,
The are quite unsingable.
We're opera mad in Camelot,
We sing from the diaphragm a lot.

In war we're tough and able,
Quite indefatigable.
Between our quests we sequin vests and impersonate Clark Gable.
It's a busy life in Camelot.

I have to push the pram a lot.

The Lumberjack Song

Spoken: I always wanted to be... a lumberjack! Leaping from the tree to tree as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia. The giant redwood; the larch; the fir; the mighty scots pine! The lofty flowering cherry; the plucky little spsen! The limping roo tree of Nigeria; the towering wattle of Aldershot! The maidenhead weeping water plant! The naughty Leicestershire flashing oak! The flatulent elm of West Ruislip! The quercus maximus Bamber Gascoignii! The epigillus! The barter Hughius Greenus! With my best buddy by my side We'd sing... sing... sing...

Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,
I sleep all night and I work all day.

MOUNTIES:
Oh, he's a lumberjack and he's OK,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shopping,
And have buttered scones for tea.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping,
And has buttered scones for tea.

Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,
I sleep all night and I work all day.

I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees, he skips and jump,
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing...
And hangs around in bars?!

Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,
I sleep all night and I work all day.

I cut down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspenders and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.

MOUNTIES:
He cuts down trees, he wears high heels...
Suspenders? And a bra?

Oh, he's a lumberjack and he's OK...
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

Philosophers' Drinking Song

Immanuel Kant was a real pissant,
Who was very rarely stable,
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar,
Who could think you under the table,
David Hume could out-consume,
Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel,
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine,
Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.

There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist,
Socrates, himself, was permanently pissed.

John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill,
Plato, they say, could stick it away,
Half a crate of whiskey every day,
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
Hobbes was fond of his dram,
And René Descartes was a drunken fart,
"I drink, therefore I am."

Yes, Socrates, himself, is particularly missed,
A lovely little thinker,
But a bugger when he's pissed

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