Roll Your Leg Over

[ F ]

Chorus:
Roll your leg over, oh, roll your leg over,
Roll your leg over the man in the moon.

Verses for men:

If all of them ladies were big, wooden stairs,
They'd go down mine and I'd go down theirs.

If all of them ladies were tall, slender poles
And I were a squirrel, I'd stuff nuts in their holes.

If all of them ladies were bitches in heat,
And I were their master, I'd give them some meat.

If all of them ladies were moles in the grasses
And I were a mole, I'd be full of mole-lasses.

If all of them ladies were little red foxes
And I were a hunter, I'd shoot up their boxes.

If all of them ladies were coals in the stoker
And I were a blacksmith, I'd shove in my poker.

If all of them ladies were bats in a steeple
And I were a bat, there'd be more bats than people.

If all of them ladies were finely brewed beer,
They'd give good head and I'd be of good cheer.

If all of them ladies were fish in a pool,
I'd be a carp with a waterproof tool.

If all of them ladies were chicken's a-scratchin'
And I were a cock, there'd be more eggs a-hatchin'.

If all of them ladies were shy little deer
And I were a stag, there'd be fawns ev'ry year.

If all of them ladies were locks on a gate
And I were a key, I'd insert and rotate.

If all of them ladies were proud, little fillies
And I were a stallion, I'd give them the willies.

If all of them ladies were mares in the stable
And I were a stallion, I'd show them I'm able.

If all of them ladies were forges a-heating,
And I were a blacksmith, my tool would [I'd ?] be beating.

If all of them ladies were bells in a tower
And I were a clapper, I'd bang ev'ry hour.

If all of them ladies were veg'tables growing
And I were a hoe, then their seeds I'd be sowing.

If all of them ladies were wine in a cup,
I'd dive to the bottom and never come up.

If all of them ladies were bottles of brew,
I'd pop all their corks with my built-in corkscrew.

If all of them ladies were merry-go-rounds,
I'd mount up and we'd go up and [go ?] down.

If all of them ladies were furry, white kittens
And I were a tomcat, I'd give 'em good fittin's.

If all of them ladies were mermaids a -splashin'
And I were a merman, I'd fill them with passion.

If all of them ladies were stretch out on their beds,
And I were a quilt, then I'd gain maidenheads.  ** This harkens back to "The Twa Magicians," which has a similar metaphor in the last stanza.¯

If all of them ladies were fish in the brookie,
And I were a bass then I'd give them some nookie.

If all of them ladies were little, brown mares
And I were a saddle, I'd cover their rears.

If all of them ladies were statues of Venus
And I were a sculptor, I'd have a hard -- chisel.

If all of them ladies were fish in a hole
And I were a fisherman, I'd use my pole.

If all of them ladies were made of swiss cheese
And I were a mouse, then their holes I would squeeze.

If all of them ladies were sweet fruits and berries,
I'd suck on melons and I'd chew on cherries.

If all of them ladies were as sweet as they say,
All us young men would be horny and gay.

If all of them ladies were flutes in a row
And I came along them [sic] their holes I would blow.

If all of them ladies were singing this song,
'Twould be three times as dirty and four times as long.

If all of them ladies were winds on the sea
And I'd be a sail, then I'd have them blow me.

If all of them ladies were fish in a pond
And I were a hook, then I'd catch ev'ry one.

If all of them ladies were fish in the ocean
And I were a whale, then I'd show them the motion.

If all of them ladies were bricks in a pile
And I were a mason, I'd lay them in style.

If all of them ladies were cows in a pasture
And I were a bull, I'd fill them with rapture.

If all of them ladies were litle white rabbits
And I were another, I'd tech them bad habits.

If all of them ladies were unicorns prancing
And I were another, then we'd go romancing.

If all of them ladies were leaves on the trees
And I were a deer then I'd eat them with ease.

If all of them ladies were crumbs in a field
And I were a deer, then I'd have a good meal.

	Furnished without tune by Pasadena, California, attorney Roger Gray, a parttime performer at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire.  Gray has deliberately gathered songs from various sources, both oral and printed, to present as a "strolling minstrel" at the pageant.
	There might be some question about the oral currency of some of the verses here; the "unicorns prancing," for example, has a self-conscious, literary quality unusual in traditional song.

[ G ]

	Yet another version is in both the Phi Kappa Psi songbook used at UCLA in 1991-1992, and "The Songbook of Sigma Pi, Upsilon Chapter," compiled at that university in 1990, copies of which were graciously furnished by Ms. Kelly Besser.  A number of the verses -- only a few of which are given here -- are recently coined.

Chorus:
Roll your leg over, oh, roll your leg over.
Roll your leg over the Phi Psi's [Sig Pi's] are here.

I wish that all girls were like:

Strawberry sundaes and I were spoon, I would dip in their
	undies.

D.G.'s [Delta Gamma's] in heat and I were a Phi Psi, I'd give 
	them my meat.

Big light house towers and I were a wave, I would slam them 
	for hours.

Pieces of shit and I were a fly, I would stick to their clit.

Bicycle riders and I were a seat, I would ride up inside her.

Arabian soil and I were from Exxon, I'd drill them for oil.

Holes in the road and I was a dump truck, I'd fill them with
	my load.

I wish that all girls were singing this song; it'd be twice as
	dirty and three times as long. 

	



	
	In the interest of as complete a record as possible, the editor notes that Margaret Wise Brown adapted what is said to be a Provencal love ballad dating to the troubadour period for her perennially popular children's book, The Runaway Bunny:
	Two stanzas, without a source, are cited in Leonard S. Wise's biography, Margaret Wise Brown (Boston: Beacon, 1992), p. 149:

If you pursue me I shall become a fish in the water
And I shall escape you.
If you become a fish, I shall become an eel.

If you become an eel, I shall become a fox
And I shall escape you.
If you become a fox, I shall become a hunter,
And I shall hunt you...

	The redoubtable F.J. Child, of course, notes many southern French and Catalan versions of the ballad of "The Twa Magicians."  This might be a translation of one.