For anyone confused about the Pagan Wheel of the Year :-) by Alexa Duir
Can be sung to "The Gasman Cometh" (Flanders & Swann)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyeMFSzPgGc&feature=related
T’was on the May Day morning that we all got up at dark,
To welcome in the daybreak with a frolic in the park.
They told us that this was the point the god conceived a son
But the thing which just confused me was that dad and child were one.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the summer solstice that the poor old oak king died.
And we all stood there and watched it while a number of us cried.
He gave up life for some reason I never really knew;
But they told me it was worthy and it looked convincing, too.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the day of Lugh’s big feast we made a man of bread,
And they took a great big sword and then they poked him in the head.
They told us that the god had died to give us all our corn.
But if god was killed at Lughnasadh who died midsummer morn?
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Autumn equinox we all joined hand in hand
And we formed a great big circle and we chanted and we sang.
As there’s nothing going on just now and no one has a clue
Of what it is we celebrate, but that’s what pagans do
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at Samhain the god went down to join the dead in Hel,
And my brain went down along with him ‘cos far I could tell
The last time that we’d killed him was back three months or so
And I don’t know any mortal being that’d take so long to go.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Yule that I began to wonder what they’re on
When another bleedin’ king got killed while the goddess had a son.
And I couldn’t work out how it was that all the buggers said
That they believed in harming none while a third one lay there dead.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was in the February that they told me the goddess
Who’d had a babe at Yuletide was a virgin nonetheless.
Now I was a bloody Christian ‘til it all stuck in my craw
And this virgin mother business - well, I’ve heard it all before.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Vernal equinox we all joined hand in hand
And we formed a great big circle and we chanted and we sang.
As there’s nothing going on just now and no one has a clue
Of what it is we celebrate, but that’s what pagans do.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the May Day morning that I finally had to laugh
When they told me that the son she’d had was now her other half.
And I’m back to join the Christian Church, where hypocrisy is rife,
But they haven’t yet done incest and they never wave a knife.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
© Alexa Duir 2003
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyeMFSzPgGc&feature=related
T’was on the May Day morning that we all got up at dark,
To welcome in the daybreak with a frolic in the park.
They told us that this was the point the god conceived a son
But the thing which just confused me was that dad and child were one.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the summer solstice that the poor old oak king died.
And we all stood there and watched it while a number of us cried.
He gave up life for some reason I never really knew;
But they told me it was worthy and it looked convincing, too.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the day of Lugh’s big feast we made a man of bread,
And they took a great big sword and then they poked him in the head.
They told us that the god had died to give us all our corn.
But if god was killed at Lughnasadh who died midsummer morn?
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Autumn equinox we all joined hand in hand
And we formed a great big circle and we chanted and we sang.
As there’s nothing going on just now and no one has a clue
Of what it is we celebrate, but that’s what pagans do
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at Samhain the god went down to join the dead in Hel,
And my brain went down along with him ‘cos far I could tell
The last time that we’d killed him was back three months or so
And I don’t know any mortal being that’d take so long to go.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Yule that I began to wonder what they’re on
When another bleedin’ king got killed while the goddess had a son.
And I couldn’t work out how it was that all the buggers said
That they believed in harming none while a third one lay there dead.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was in the February that they told me the goddess
Who’d had a babe at Yuletide was a virgin nonetheless.
Now I was a bloody Christian ‘til it all stuck in my craw
And this virgin mother business - well, I’ve heard it all before.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was at the Vernal equinox we all joined hand in hand
And we formed a great big circle and we chanted and we sang.
As there’s nothing going on just now and no one has a clue
Of what it is we celebrate, but that’s what pagans do.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
T’was on the May Day morning that I finally had to laugh
When they told me that the son she’d had was now her other half.
And I’m back to join the Christian Church, where hypocrisy is rife,
But they haven’t yet done incest and they never wave a knife.
Oh it all makes a rite for the pagan-folk to do…
© Alexa Duir 2003