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Description: Fix incorrect version of "The Irish Ballad"
Origin: other, http://sniff.numachi.com/pages/tiRICTICTN.html
Bug-Debian: http://bugs.debian.org/694306
Forwarded: not-needed
Last-Update: 2013-06-24
--- fortune-mod-1.99.1.orig/datfiles/off/unrotated/songs-poems
+++ fortune-mod-1.99.1/datfiles/off/unrotated/songs-poems
@@ -1325,36 +1325,44 @@ Big, fat, juicy ones,
Little, skinny, cute ones,
Watch how they wiggle and they squirm.
%
-Now of a maid, I'll sing a song,
-Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-Now of a maid, I'll sing a song, She didn't like her Uncle Zeke,
-Who didn't keep her family long. Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin,
-Not only did she do them wrong, She didn't like her Uncle Zeke,
-She did every one of them in, them in, And so she drowned him in the creek.
-She did every one of them in. The water we had was bad for a week,
- So we had to make do with gin, with gin,
-She weighted her father down with stones. We had to make do with gin.
-Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-She weighted her father down with stones, Her mother she could never stand,
-And sent him off to Davy Jones. Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-All that we ever found were bones, Her mother she could never stand,
-And occasional pieces of skin, of skin, And so a cyanide soup she planned.
-Occasional pieces of skin. Her mother died with the spoon in her hand,
- And her face in a hideous grin, a grin.
-She set her sister's hair on fire, Her face in a hideous grin.
-Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-She set her sister's hair on fire, One day, when she had nothing to do,
-And as the smoke and flames grew higher, Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-She danced around the funeral pyre, One day, when she had nothing to do,
-Playing the violin, -olin, She cut her baby brother in two,
-Playing the violin. And served him up as an Irish stew,
- And invited the neighbors in, -bors in,
-And when at last the police came by, Invited the neighbors in.
-Sing, rikkity-tikkity-tin.
-And when, at last, the police came by, For to do so she would have to lie,
-Her little pranks she did nor deny, And lying, she knew, was a sin, a sin,
- Lying she knew was a sin.
- -- "Rikkity-tikkity-tin"
+About a maid I'll sing a song
+Sing rickety tickety tin
+About a maid I'll sing a song One morning in a fit of pique
+Who didn't have her family long Sing rickety tickety tin
+Not only did she do them wrong One morning in a fit of pique
+She did every one of them in, them in She drowned her father in the creek
+She did every one of them in. The water tasted bad for a week
+ And we had to make do with gin, with gin
+Her mother she could never stand We had to make do with gin
+Sing rickety tickety tin
+Her mother she could never stand She weighted her brother down with stones
+And so a cyanide soup she planned Sing rickety tickety tin
+The mother died with the spoon in her hand She weighted her brother down with stones
+And her face in a hideous grin, a grin And sent him off to Davey Jones
+He face in a hideous grin. All they ever found were some bones
+ And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
+She set her sister's hair on fire Occasional pieces of skin.
+Sing rickety tickety tin
+She set her sister's hair on fire One day she had nothing to do
+And as the smoke and flame rose higher Sing rickety tickety tin
+Danced around the funeral pyre One day she had nothing to do
+Playing a violin, olin She cut her baby brother in two
+Playing a violin. And served him up as an Irish stew
+ And invited the neighbors in, bors in
+And when at last the police came by Invited the neighbors in.
+Sing rickety tickety tin
+And when at last the police came by And just one thing before I go
+Her little pranks she did not deny Sing rickety tickety tin
+To do so she would have had to lie And just one thing before I go
+And lying she knew was a sin, a sin There's something I think that you ought to know
+And lying she knew was a sin. They had no proof, so they let her go
+ And they say that she's tall and thin, and thin
+My tragic tale I won't prolong They say that she's tall and thin.
+Sing rickety tickety tin
+My tragic tale I won't prolong You've yourself to blame if it's too long
+I hope you lile my little song You should never have let me begin, begin
+ You should never have let me begin.
+ -- "The Irish Ballad (Rickety Tickety Tin)"
%
O! If I were a fish
I'd lay hap'ly on my dish.
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