Cup of Brown Joy
possibly a new theme song
for the tweed rides?
for the tweed rides?
Love a cup…. I would… ah, God yes!
Ooh that is gorgeous. Yeah!
I need a cup of the brown stuff, the shade of an acorn.
Made warm by the same source that I take my cakes from.
Using a tea pot, a mug, or fine china…
Being hooked up to IVs, and constant supplies.
…and the ___ of my urges might verge on the verge of an earthy brown tea.
I’m certain it’s worth it.
We ___ to workers and use a fresh fountain,
I deserve brews from Peruvian mountains.
I’ve slurped up a cup from an elephant’s trunk
with a couple of monks who utterly stunk.
I’ve had bourbons with sultans and creams with queens,
and I’ve bathed in Earl Grey. I’m really that keen!
And missionaries dismiss me for my singular epiphany.
The difference between him and me is a simple sip of British tea!
So when times are hard and life is rough,
You can stick the kettle on and find me a cup!
Now when I say Earl Grey, you say yes please!
Earl Grey — yes please!
Earl Grey — yes please!
When I say Assam, you say lovely!
Assam — lovely!
Assam — lovely!
When I say ooh, you say ahh!
Ooh — ahh!
Ooh — ahh!
Ooh — ahhhhhh!
(muttering?)
I’ve been around the world in 80 brews
to see the place you take me to
to make the brew that tastes like the cream cakes made by angels do.
I’m not the same as you; get shaky with ___.
To swig amazing fluids, but don’t make it the same.
Now, using fine leaves, picked by pretty maidens,
in a bag knitted by a seamstress who lives in Copenhagen.
Brewed up in a pot made of semi-precious metal
And then let the bless-ed contents settle in my very special kettle.
Now, when I say Oo, you say long.
Oo–long!
Oo–long!
When I say herbal, you say no thanks.
Herbal — no thanks!
Herbal — no thanks!
Mmm….no! No, I want.. I want milk in it.
Strong though! I want to see that spoon stand up!
If you’re tired of tea, then you’re tired of life!
Ah-ha! I’m madder than a hatter. It defies my might!
Liken me to Earl Grey, Assam, or Ginger
Lapsang Soushong raise my pinky finger.
Keep your sodding coffee in a proper copper coffee pot.
…. and spot me loving teapot
coffee clocks, nodding off
lost a plot, sodding off
Need some caffeine added and a Batternburg to top it off.
Cut them off a different block. A different lot can take their pay on
80 cups a day, I haven’t slept for 80 years!
You can say I’m mad with tea, or, or just say I’m mad.
Oh, you can’t stay any longer? Oh..
Actually, I’m I’m quite glad.
All the more Battenburg for me!
I can barely pour, my hands have got a bit shaky from caffeine.
Oh, I love it though.
I’d sell my own grandma for a cup.
Well, I’d sell your grandma for a cup…
Labels: kunst, Tweed Ride, velopunk
4 Comments:
Thank you so much for posting these lyrics! You've done a fine job!
I noticed one line you weren't sure about which I believe is
"With sherpas who work herds and use a fresh fountain, I discern brews from Peruvian mountains."
LOL!!!!!
Thanks!
%-{)>
The line after "Keep your sodding coffee in a proper copper coffee pot" is "And spot me lobbing teapots at your poncy rotten coffee shop."
"made warm by the same source that I take my name from".
Not cakes.
He's MC Elemental, see? And a kettle has an element which heats the water.
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