Another song from the fetid depths of my cranium. As usual, full of double entendre. This song is a pastiche of a George Formby song called ‘Little Stick of Blackpool Rock’. If you have a listen to that song on YouTube and then read these lyrics, then you’ll get a flavour of how my song will sound. Of course I will have to difference it as I believe that the Formby song is still in copywrite.
Bell Rope Song
(Coda) Just because I ring these bells daily every hour
Slowly Doesn’t mean that I’m confined, a prisoner of this tower
There’s lots of other things to do to pass the time away
So, let me give you an idea of how I pass my day
Rocky: I dragged a lady off the street and up to my tower
Fast I chased her up and down the stairs for over an hour
She said can we continue after we’ve had a shower
Well what can you answer to that?
I took a lady holidaying down on the sand
I let her grip my bell rope really tight in her hand
She said it’s long and thick and warm, isn’t it grand
Well what can you answer to that?
Every day I’m pulling away, my how I do perspire
The friction caused from pulling so fast
It’s a wonder I don’t catch fire.
I met another ringer whilst out doing some chores
We stopped and had a natter and a bite out of doors
He said I’ll let you pull mine if you let me pull yours
Well what do you answer to that?
I started giving lessons with myself at the hub
We’d round off all the sessions with a drink at the pub
The barmaid asked if I could get her into the club
Well what can you answer to that?
(Music break)
People ask me how do I cope?
Pulling with all my might
Well, I don’t mind if I pull all day
As long as I hold on tight.
A lady joined the other day, she’d not pulled before
She tugged so hard and mightily her feet left the floor
She said “My wrist is aching, and my hand is quite sore”
Well what can you answer to that?
A lady pulled a bit too hard and had a mishap
Her rope got disentangled and it fell through the gap
She asked if I could help her slip it back in her flap
Well what can you answer to that?
Every day I polish my bells
My how I make them gleam
Rubbing wax on to the bell ends
Really brings up the sheen.
I brewed us all a cocoa and we all had a mug
The ladies lined up nicely on the edge of the rug
I passed my rope amongst them and they all had a tug
Well what can you answer to that?
A lady viewing from the crowd stepped out of the throng
She liked the way I made the bell sound just like a gong
She said I like your clappers and magnificent dong
Well what can you answer?
What can you answer?
What can you answer?
To that……….
A Badly Chewed Pencil 
Hee hee! I’d say the entendres were far greater than double! George Formby was managed by his wife and he wrote none of his famous songs. His wife, however, told all writers that they must give Formby 50/50 on the songwriting credits for anything he performed. For most impoverished writers 50% of something was better than 100% of nothing…
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You are not wrong. His Mrs was a tartar… She kept an eye on him especially where other women were concerned and insisted in being on the set with him and in some of his film. Truth is, she made him into the massive star that he was. It didn’t take long once she’d snuffed it for him to get engaged to another woman.
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