RICKETY TICKETY TIN
Tom Lehrer
About a maid I'll sing a song
sing rickety tickety tin
About a maid I'll sing a song who didn't have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did very one of them in, them in, she did every one of them in
Her mother she could never stand
sing rickety tickety tin
He mother she could never stand and so a cyanide soup she planned
The mother died with a spoon in her hand,
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin, her face in a hideous grin
One morning in a fit of pique
sing rickety tickety tin
One morning in a fit of pique she pushed her father in the creek
the water tasted bad for a week, and we had to make do with gin,
with gin, we had to make do with gin.
She set her sister's hair on fire
sing rickety tickety tin
She set her sister's hair on fire and as the smoke and flames rose higher
She danced around the funeral pyre, playing a violin, 'olin, playing a violin
She weighted her bother down with stones
She weighted her bother down with stones abd sent him off to Davy Jones
All they ever found were some bones and occasional pieces of skin,
of skin, ocasional pieces of skin
One day when she had nothing to do
sing rickety tickety tin
One day when she had nothing to do she cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an irish stew, and invited the neighbours in,
'bours in, invited the neighbours in
And when at last the police came by
sing rickety tickety tin
And when at last the police came by her little pranks she did not deny
For to do so she would have had to lie, and lying she knew was a sin,
a sin, lying she knew was a sin
My tragic tale I won't prolong
sing rickety tickety tin
My tragic tale I won't prolong and if you do not enjoy my song
You've yourself to blame if it's too long, you should never have let me begin, begin ,
you should never have let me begin
(Contributed by Paul Molloy - September 2002)