My Old Man

Music Hall was once a popular and traditional form of entertainment for the British masses.

As the name suggests, music was involved- generally novelty songs with a risque twist. ‘When I’m Cleaning Windows’, far from a cheeky ditty for ukelele, was as dirty as a chamois leather drenched in poodle splat and baboon jizz, while ‘Any Old Iron’ was about toilet trading decades before George Michael made it a ‘thing’.

Smutty songs and comedy double acts were music hall’s stock-in-trade. It didn’t matter if most of it was a load of rubbish as it gave people something to do rather than just mope about with TB and rickets.

I cannot claim to be an expert in Music Hall or even particularly informed. I’m not even going to check the wiki page (though I might stick it in the Bibliography) before I update a classic Music Hall song to reflect the fact that vans aren’t pulled by horses anymore.

This is like Dylan goes electric- only on a blog instead of in front of an angry Music Hall audience being dragged slap bang into the 1930s and beyond. And instead of anyone giving a shit, nobody will even notice.

 

My Old Man said “Follow the van

and don’t dilly-dally on the way”

Off went the van with me whole home in it

I walked along beside for half a minute

Then he gunned it to second 

Then third and fourth I reckon

Judging by how fast he sped away

Oh you can’t jog along beside an old Ford Transit

More than ten yards of the way

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