The Cod Fish Song

[ B ]

"Oh, mister fisherman, home from the sea,
Have you got a lobster you will sell to me?"

CHORUS: Singing ai-tiddly-ai, shit or bust,
Never let your ballocks dangle in the dust.

"Yes sir, yes sir, I have three,
And the biggest of the bastards I will sell to thee."

So I took the lobster home, but I couldn't find a dish,
I put the fucking lobster where the missus has a piss.

In the middle of the night, as you well know,
The missus got up to have a heave ho.

Well, first there came a groan, and then there came a 						grunt,
And the bloody lobster grabbed her by the cunt.

The missus grabbed the brush, and I grabbed the broom,
And we chased the fucking lobster round and round the 						room.

We hit it on the head, we hit it on the side,
We hit that fucking lobster till the bastard died.

Oh, the story has a moral, and this is it,
Always have a look before you take a shit.

That's the end of my story, there isn't any more,
There's an apple up my asshole, and you can have the 						core.

Down in Nagasaki the monkey fucked the cat,
And all the cat could do was fuck the monkey back.

As "The Lobster Song," this is number 32 in Paul Woodford's "Hash Songs II" (Honolulu, Hawaii, 1994).  Woodford's omnibus collection was gathered at air force bases around the Pacific Rim from "hashers," men and women who for sport engage in an adult form of Hare and Hounds that involves difficult cross-country running.  At the end of a hash meet, like weekend rugby players, the participants consume numerous beers, and sing bawdy songs.  The hash repertoire melds songs drawn from at least four song traditions: United States Air Force, rugby, Australian and New Zealand.