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To: tanstaafl44

Thanks tanstaafl44 ((((Hugs))))

Molly Malone (Cockles & Mussels) with lyrics
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ruNdU6bGE5E


102 posted on 05/31/2012 6:47:35 PM PDT by fatima (Free Hugs Today :))
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To: fatima

I like the 1963 version of Molly Malone:

‘Twas in old Atlanta, where Pop was a cantor,
Our picket lines clashed, and I met my true love.
My avid insistence met massive resistance, crying:
“Rockets and missiles!. Alive, alive, oh!
Alive, alive, oh, alive, alive, oh!
Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

She was a bomb banner who walked from Savannah
And there, I first set eyes on Molly Malone.
She called me a blackguard and carried a placard, crying:
“Rockets and missiles!. Alive, alive, oh!
Alive, alive, oh, alive, alive, oh!
Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

I am a warmonger, an old-time witch hunter
And so was my father, the cantor before.
She abused us and cursed us America-firsters, crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

She waved the red banner, cried, “hands off Havana!”
Mine reached not for Cuba, but only for her.
She sneered, “you’re so noble. Go free Morton Sobell,”crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

I called her a traitor, this small red tomater
But this old redbaiter was singing the blues.
She said, “fascist, you act
Like you’re scabbing for HUAC,” crying
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!”

I followed my kitten downtown to a sit-in
‘Twas at the lunch counter I first saw her smile.
Red herring I bought her. She toasted Goldwater, crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!”

I sprung for a sandwich. She offered her hand, which
Had clutched tight her placard a moment ago.
So I didn’t tarry. I pinned her with Barry, crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

To carefully nurture this budding John Bircher,
I weaned her on Meyer, Sokolsky, and Schlamm.
She now goes on sorties and stages card parties, crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!”

Now, who could have known, Miss Molly Malone
Is now Mrs. Clyde Lipschitz of Jackson Heights, Queens.
When there’s nothing else doin’, she pickets the UN, crying:
“Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!

Now here is the moral: Young girls, if you quarrel
With Birchers and YAFers, you’ll wind up in Queens.
May every peace marcher find similar torture, crying:
Rockets and missiles!. Alive, alive, oh!
Alive, alive, oh, alive, alive, oh!
Rockets and missiles! Alive, alive, oh!


153 posted on 05/31/2012 8:38:32 PM PDT by Fiji Hill (Deo Vindice!)
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