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L.I.T's SONG BOOK
The first of the three collections is the L.I.T's SONG BOOK. A number of
phone calls to Telstra
have failed to find what LIT meant, but it is supposed that it referred to Line
Installation Technicians. No
editor or any other form of identification is given except for a date printed on
the cover Jan-July 1971 and
the clue that it originated in the PMG department (as what is known in the trade
as a 'foreigner' or
unauthorized publication), so perhaps it was (or was intended to be) part of a
series.
It consists of 20 un-numbered pages 150x205mm, and contains the texts of 20
songs. It was
printed on a Gestetner or similar type of duplicating machine, the original
being keyed in from a manual
typewriter onto a waxed paper master, which was then attached to the revolving
drum of the machine,
usually hand operated, which could then print quite a large number of copies,
one sheet for each turn of
the handle.
The songs are about as rough and crude as the compilers could find, and it is
interesting to
compare their versions with others that also appear in the other two
publications under study.
6
LITS SONG BOOK,
Jan-July 1971.
ON THE ROAD TO GUNDAGIE
There's a bit on the spit where they empty all the shit,
Along the road to Gundagie,
There's a big black bung beside her,
You can bet your balls he'll ride her beneath the starry sky,
With a frenchie on his doodle,
He'll ride her with ease,
Diggin' up the gravel with both of his knees,
There's a grunt from the front as he whips it up her cunt,
Along the road to Gundagie.
PULLING MY TOOL OFF
Pulling my tool off,
Pulling my tool off,.
Who'll come a pulling my tool off with me,
As he wanked and he danged,
And he spoofed into his tucker bag,
Who'll come a pulling my tool off with me.
JESUS LOVES ME
Jesus loves me this I know,
For the Bible tells me so,
I am Jesus' little lamb,
Jesus fucking Christ I am.
CHUNDER IN THE OLD PACIFIC SEA
I was down at Manly Pier,
Sucking tubes of ice cold beer,
With a bucket of prawns upon my knee,
When I finished my last prawn,
I had a Technicolor yawn,
And I chundered in the old Pacific Sea.
Chorus:,
Drink it down drink it down,
Drink another dozen down,
Come and have another tube with me,
If you want to throw your voice,
Then you haven't any choice,
Than to chunder in the old Pacific Sea.
I was sitting in the surf,
When a mate of mine called 4Murph',
Come up and cracked a coupla tubes with me,
The bastard barely finished it,
When he went for the big spit,
And chundered in the old Pacific Sea.
I've had a liquid laugh in bars,
And I've hurled from moving cars,
And I've chundered when and where it suited me,
But if I could choose the spot,
To regurgitate the lot,
Then I'd chunder in the old Pacific Sea.
7
THE CHEMISTS SONG
Licking on a foreskin, sucking on a cunt,
A trick of PMG is a fucking good stunt,
Gonnorhoea germs that survive in stale spunk,
All of which you'll find up a PMG moll's cunt.
Slurp go the foreskins slurp, slurp, slurp,
Long is his stroke and his hand moves quick,
The old moll looks around and is beaten by his blow,
Curses the old foreskin, it'll have to fuck'n go.
TIGER LILY
O my name is Tiger Lily,
I'm the whore from Piccadilly,
My brother runs a brothel on the strand,
Oh my father doing time for a homosexual crime,
Where the finest fuck'n family in the land.
Well I'm sitting in the jail,
With my prick against the rail,
And my foreskin casting shadows on the wall,
My hair is growing thick from my foreskin to my prick,
And the rats are playing rugby with my balls.
JOHN PRIORS BALL BAG
John Prior's ball bag is dragging in the mud,
John Prior's ball bag is dragging in the mud,
John Prior's ball bag is dragging in the mud,
And his balls are hanging low.
Glory, glory what a penis,
Glory, glory what a penis,
Glory, glory what a penis,
And his balls are hanging low.
DINAH, DINAH
Chorus:,
Dinah, Dinah show us your leg,
Show us your leg, show us your k
Dinah, Dinah show us your leg,
A yard above your knee.
A rich girl wears a brassiere,
A poor girl wears a string,
But Dinah wears nothing at all
She lets the bastards swing.
A rich girls wears a diamond ring
A poor girl wears one of brass,
But the only ring that Dinah's got
Is the brown one around her arse.
A rich girl rides a limousine.
A poor girl in a truck,
But the only ride that Dinah gets,
Is when she's being flicked.
A rich girl uses Vaseline,
A poor girl uses lard,
But Dinah uses axle-grease,
Because her cunt's so hard.
8
JOHN PEEL
'Do ye ken John Peel?' Yes I know
the bugger well,
With a head on his hammer like the Inchcape Bell,
Nine inches on the slack, twelve
inches on the swell,
As he reveals in the joys of copulation.
Chorus:
Cats on the rooftops, cats on the tiles,
Cats on the syphilis, gonorrhoea, piles,
Cats with arseholes wreathed in smiles,
As they revel in the joys of copulation.
Do ye ken John Peel with his cock in a sling,
And his two brass balls going ting-a-ling-a-ling,
He's lying in the brass with a carrot up his arse,
And he won't take it out till morning.
Now the elephant it seems, is a funny old bloke,
Cause though he's got a woman he
seldom has a poke,
But when it does he lets it soak,
And he revels in the joys of copulation.
Now a funny old fish is the old sperm whale,
With a fully little diddle tucked under his tail,
And he rides his missus in the teeth of the gale,
And he revels in the revels of copulation.
Oh the sergeant major leads a solitary life,
Cause he hasn't got a woman and he hasn't got
a wife,
But he satisfies himself on the regimental fife,
As he revels in the joys of copulation.
The poor domestic doggie on his chain all day,
Never gets a chance to let himself go gay,
So he licks at his dick in a frantic way,
As he revels in the joys of copulation.
The owls in the trees, the cats on the tiles,
One fucks in solitude, the other fucks in files,
You can hear the happy howls and
shrieks for miles,
As they revel in the joys of copulation.
Now I met a girl and she was a dear,
But she gave me a dose of gonorrhoea,
Fools rush in where angels fear,
As I revelled in the joys of copulation.
When you wake up in the morning
with thoughts of sexual joy,
But your wife has got the monthlies
and your daughter says she'd cry,
Just rip it up the rectum of your eldest boy,
And revel in the joys of copulation.
ABDUL-A-BULL-BULL AMIR
The harems of Egypt are fair to behold,
And the harlots the fairest of fair,
And the fairest of all was owned by the Sheik,
Named Abdul-A-Bull-Bull Amir.
A travelling brothel came down from the north,
'Twas privately run by the Czar,
Who wagered a hundred no one could outshag,
Ivan Skavinzky Skaver.
Abdul came in with a snatch by his side,
His eyes bore a look of desire,
And he did brag how he would outshag,
Ivan Skavinzky Skaver.
A day was arranged for the spectacle great,
A holiday was proclaimed by the Czar,
And the streets were lined by the Harlots,
To Ivan Skavinzky Skaver.
They met on the track with tools hanging slack,
The starters gun shattered the air,
They were both quick to rise;
the crowd gasped at the size
Of Abdul-A-Bull-Bull Amir.
The harlots were sure, no frenchies were wore,
And that suited Abdul by far,
But the Caliph he knew had a quick bet or two,
On Ivan Skavinzky Skaver.
They fucked all that night 'neath
the pale yellow light,
Old Abdul, he revved like a car,
But he couldn't compete with the slow steady beat,
Of Ivan Skavinzky Skaver.
Now Ivan had won, and he sheltered his gun,
And had bent down to polish his tool,
When something red hot up his great passage shot,
Twas Abdul-A-Bull-Bull Amir.
9
CHARLOTTE THE HARLOT
Charlotte the harlot lay dying,
A piss-pot supported her head,
And the bastards around her were crying,
As she rolled on her left tit and said,
"I've been fucked by the league of all nations,
The Arabs, the Japs and the Jews,
But I had to come back to Australia,
To be rucked by some bastards like you,
So roll back your greasy old foreskins,
And give me the juice of your nuts,
So they rolled back their greasy old foreskins,
And played Home Sweet Home on her guts.
SALLY MORGAN
Sally Morgan, Sally Morgan,
With a box like a barrel organ.
Chorus:,
And the hairs on her dicky di di,
Hang down to her knees,
There's a black one, and a white one,
And one with a little cum on it,
And the hairs on her dicky di di,
Hang down to her knees,
You can pick 'em, you can poke 'em,
Roll 'em like a tobacco and smoke 'em,
And the hairs on her dicky di di,
Hang down round her knees.
She lives in the jungle,
And roots like a fucking mongrel.
She rides a bicycle,
And sticks it up her Micky Michael.
She keeps us waiting,
While she's masturbating.
She sits on the steeple,
And shits on all the people.
It takes a black miner,
To find her vagina.
She married an Italian,
With balls like a stallion,
She married a demon,
Who washed her with semen.
She lives on a cattle ranch,
And roots like an avalanche.
She lived on a mountain,
And pissed like a bloody fountain,
THE VIRGIN'S BALL
Sing a song of syphilis, a penis full of puss,
Four and twenty prostitutes arriving on a bus.
Chorus:,
Singing, whoTl do me this time, who'll do me now,
The one that did me last time must have used a plough.
They were shagging in the barnyards, they were shagging in the ricks,
You couldn't hear the music for the swishing of the pricks.
They were shagging in the pantry, they were shagging on the stairs,
You couldn't see the carpet for the cunts and curly hairs.
They were shagging on the highways, they were shagging in the lanes,
You couldn't see the roadway for the semen in the drains.
They were shagging on the couches, they were shagging in the cots,
And lying up against the wall were rows of grinning twots.
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The mayor's son he was there, buttocks on the plate,
Too young to shag a woman so he had to masturbate.
The parson's daughter she was there, cunning little runt,
Poison ivy up her arse and thistles up her cunt.
The undertaker he was there, enveloped in a shroud,
Swinging from the chandelier and pissing on the crowd.
The village idiot he was there, he was an amusing soul,
By taking his chestnuts out of the fire and poking them up his hole.
Mrs Magginity she was there, keeping us all in fits,
By jumping off the mantelpiece and bouncing on her tits.
The bride was in the kitchen, explaining to the groom,
That the vagina, not the rectum, was the entrance to her womb.
The village magician he was there, doing his favourite trick,
Of cooking his foreskin over his head and whistling down his prick.
Farmer Giles he was there, his sickle in his hand,
And every time he swung around he circumcised the band.
The squire's daughter she was there, silly little clown,
They tied her to the banister, then fucked her upside down.
The village postman he was there, frightened of getting the pox,
He wouldn't shag a woman so he shagged a letterbox.
The village fool he was there, doing a magical farce,
By throwing his right leg over his head and vanishing up his arse.
The village squire he was there, crawling through the grass,
And by a stroke of providence a prick went up his arse.
The village doctor he was there, but all alone he sat,
Amusing himself by abusing himself and catching it in his hat.
The chimney sweep he was there, hoping for a bash,
But every time he passed his wind the room was filled with ash.
The village policeman he was there, but gave up in despair,
For he couldn't get his penis through the tangle of the hair.
The village teacher he was there, his prick was long and broad,
And when he fucked the farmer's wide she had to be re-bored.
They were fucking in the highways they were fucking in the lanes,
You couldn't hear the music for the rattling of the drains.
MASTURBATION
Last night I felt the thrill of masturbation,
It felt so good I knew it would,
I dropped a load of spoof into the basin,
1 pulled my pud, it did me good.
Chorus:,
Wang it, dang it, rub it on the wall,
Squeeze it, tease it, wrap it 'round ya balls,
A pull, a pull, a pull, ... etc.
Late in bed, I plonked me plonker,
It did me good, I knew it would,
First a down stroke around the crown,
Then pulled me foreskin up and down.
Some people say intercourse is rather grand,
But for me I'd rather roll it in my hand,
Wang it, dang it, roll it in my hand,
Squeeze it, tease it, stick it in the door,
A pull, a pull, a pull .... etc.
11
"THE THIRD MATE'S NAME WAS CARTER
The third mate's name was Carter,
By Christ he was a farter,
When the wind did not blow and
the ship did not go,
They used Carter the farter to start her.
The captain's son was Morgan,
A homosexual gorgon,
Three times a day he'd sit and play,
With his reproductive organ.
The first mate's name was Freeman,
A dirty bloody demon,
He fed the crew on menstrual stew,
And foreskins fried in semen.
The second cook's name was Lester,
A virgin hymen tester,
He'd stick his dick through hymen thick,
And leave it there to fester.
The cabin boy's name was Kipper,
A lively little nipper,
They filled his arse with broken glass,
Which circumcised the skipper.
The bosun's name was Saul,
He only had one ball,
But with the knacker he could roll tobaccer,
Right up the chartroom wall.
The pilots name was Greene,
He invented the fucking machine,
On the 99th stroke the bloody thing broke,
And melted his balls into cream.
THE HARLOT OF JERUSALEM
Chorus:,
Hi-ho Kafoosalem, Kafoosalem, Kafoosalem.
Hi-ho Kafoosalem, the harlot of Jerusalem.
She lived within the palace walls,
And round her were hung the balls,
Of every coot who tried to root,
The Harlot of Jerusalem.
Nearby there lived an Arab tall,
Who with his prick could move a wall,
It was the pride of nearly all,
The Harlots of Jerusalem.
One night returning from a spree,
He saw her there beneath a tree,
And vowed that very night that he,
Would lay her in Jerusalem.
He dragged her to a shady nook,
And from his open fly he took,
A penis like a butchers hook,
The finest in all Jerusalem,
He laid her down upon her back,
And tried to shove it up her crack,
But he had no luck in trying to fuck,
The Harlot of Jerusalem.
Kafoozalem, she gave a grunt,
And with a snap she closed her cunt,
And threw him high into the sky,
Far beyond Jerusalem.
Away he flew across the sea,
Across the sea of Galilee,
And left his knackers in a tree,
Three leagues beyond Jerusalem.
And there he hung for all to see,
Seen by all that pass that way,
The stupid ape that tried to rape,
The Harlot of Jerusalem,
12
O'REILLY'S DAUGHTER
Standing down in O'Reilly's bar,
Drinking his rum and water,
Suddenly a thought came into his head,
What say I up his daughter.
So I up the stairs and into bed,
Into bed with O'Reilly's daughter,
Not a word did the maiden say,
Just laughed like shit when I caught her.
I flicked her till her tits were sore,
Filled her up with soapy water,
If she doesn't have a set of twins,
Then she fuckin' well oughta.
I heard a footstep on the stairs,
'Twas O'Reilly's not the porter,
Two horse pistols in his head,
Seeing who's fucked his daughter.
I grabbed O'Reilly by the balls,
Drowned 'em in a bucket of water,
Rammed those pistols up his arse,
Harder than I flicked his daughter.
As I go walking down the street,
They came from every quarter,
Just to catch a glimpse of me,
Who flicked O'Reilly's daughter.
GOOD SHIP VENUS
Chorus:
Friggin on the riggin,
Yankin on the plankin',
Arseholes to the navy,
Cause there's flick all else to do.
We were on the good ship Venus,
By Christ you should seen us,
The figurehead was a nude in bed,
Sucking the captain's penis.
It was with the Chinese nation,
That we caused a big sensation,
We sunk a junk in a sea of spunk,
By mutual masturbation.
The captain's name was Ugger,
A dirty filthy bugger,
He wasn't fit to shovel shit,
On any coastal lugger.
The captain's wife was Mabel,
Whenever she was able,
She gave the crew their daily screw,
Under the kitchen table.
The captain's dog was Rover,
The whole crew did her over,
They ground and ground that faithful hound,
From Singapore to Dover.
The first mate's name was Andy,
A bastard bold and dandy,
They filled his bum with boiling rum,
For pissing in the brandy.
13
PARLEZ VOUS
Down behind the GPO parlez-vous,
Down behind the GPO parlez-vous,
Down behind the GPO,
I met three molls I used to know,
Inky pinky parlez-vous.
I fucked the one with the golden locks,
parlez-vous,
I fucked the one with the golden locks,
parlez-vous,
I fucked the one with the golden locks,
The dirty old moil she gave me the pox,
Inky pinky parlez-vous.
So off to the doctor I did go, parlez-vous,
So off to the doctor I did go, parlez-vous,
So off to the doctor I did go,
Inky pinky parlez-vous.
Well now I'm cured of pox and pain, parlez-vous,
Well now I'm cured of pox and pain, parlez-vous,
Well now I'm cured of pox and pain,
Show me those molls and I'll fuck them again,
Inky pinky parlez-vous.
THE PUB WITH NO BEER,
Chorus:,
It's a bastard away from the women and all,
With a pain in the guts from great lover's balls,
But there's nothing so shithouse that will fill you with fear,
Than to knock off a barmaid that's got gonorrhoea.
The publican's anxious for the chemist to come,
He's looking with lust at the barmaid's big bum,
He's waiting to give her a belt up the back,
But without a French letter he might get the jack.
Billy the blacksmith first time in his life,
Goes home with a roarer to his darling wife,
As he opens the door she says in notes clear,
"Without a French letter you'll get nothing here".
There's a dog on the verandah still suffering from shock,
He's just seen the size of old Billy's big cock,
He'll rush for cover and cringe with fear,
Billy's sure to root something, I'm sure moving from here.
The old moll rolls in all dusty and dry,
Takes a pad from her pouch and wipes spunk from her eye,
She rolls up to the bar and orders three feet of cock,
But the barman says sadly "We're right out of stock.".
She turns to the boys as she opens her twot,
And with a twitch of her tit she sucks up the lot,
The bar is all empty there's a half muffled cheer,
Who's the black bastard with his dick in my beer.
(Note, in the original booklet the four final verses of JOHN PEEL had been
put after THE PUB WITH
NO BEER. I have moved them back to the correct place. Ed.)
MY GRANDFATHER'S COCK
My grandfather's cock was too big for his jock,
So it dragged ninety yards on the floor,
It was bigger by far, than the old man himself,
And it weighed not a pennyweight more,
He'd a horn on the morn of the day he was born,
And a horn on the day that he died,
But his cock flopped never to rise again,
On the day that poor grandma died.
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