A friend of mine will turn the ripe old age of 34 next week.
In his honour, I offer an alternative to the usual Happy Birthday song (that no one really likes). This one has the advantage of a simple rhyme scheme so that even after five or six pints, it's easy to come up with more verses. It comes to us through the shady mists of time from deep in my very misspent and exceedingly entertaining past.
THE BIRTHDAY DIRGE
Now you've reached the age you are,
your demise cannot be far
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Doom, destruction, and despair
People dying everywhere
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Typhoid, plague and polio
Coffins lined up in a row
...
Black Death has struck your town
You yourself feel quite run-down
...
etc...
It is sung to the tune of the "Volga Boatmen", an excellent version of which by the late great Paul Robeson I offer here for practice. It's sometimes difficult to get the minor key, but this is crucial in order to create the atmosphere of utter hopelessness and despair, resignation to a lifetime of misery upon which the Russian culture is founded.
1 comment:
Russian despair is a western cliche.
Sorry but I had to say it.
I live in Eastern-Europe. I think I know Russia better then you.
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