The Duke of Squeeze Albums Gigs Lyrics

Details

Author
Robyn Hitchcock

Albums

Title Artist Label Type Year
Live At The Portland Arms The Soft Boys Midnight Music Authorized 1983

Gigs

Billed As Venue City State Country Date
Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians Northern Lights Records Minneapolis Minnesota US March 26, 1986
The Soft Boys Portland Arms Cambridge England UK November 01, 1978
Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians Tower Records New York New York US October 30, 1986

Lyrics

I trudg-ed out one mornin' fair, me system to arouse,
I met the maid in deep despair who told me of her vows
'I'm pledged unto the Duke of Squeeze, I shall be his tonight,
O wandering sir, do aid me please!' and vanished from my sight.

I thought of this young maiden oft, she sought me at her leisure,
And in her ma's banana-loft we used to take our pleasure
Her mother tried to force the door, I smoked beneath the sheets (natch),
'The Duke of Squeeze is 'ere,' she swore, 'he's brung his mighty fleet!'

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

'O flee, my pet, and get thee hence; don't tarry on the course 
The Duke has bet me fifteen pence he'd have your bits on toast!'
'My bits!' I cry, 'For my own sake, what kind of man is he?'
'A dreadful one, and no mistake, so off ye gang!' said she.

I scrambled through the aubergines and trampled o'er the brook,
But wit' he brought the submarines; thinks I, 'I'll have a look!'
In lowering hail the vessels move across the briny sea,
The teabag-spattered mermaids proved the Duke had had his tea!

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

For six long weeks I lay as dead in some outlandish field,
But when I rose from my straw bed, fair weather had congealed...
The bonny sun from up on high, it dried out my old hat,
However when I look-ed 'round, I saw that all was flat.

Crushed were the hills, and bent the sod; downtrodden was the vale 
A steamroller this way is passed by Guinness and strong ale...
To my truelove's house I did go, but nothing could I find
But pancakes walking to and fro, and a talking Venetian blind!

And we sang 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeeze!'

'The Duke of Squeeze ha' done this thing for VENGEANCE!' they all cried,
'Go fight him with a burning ring until his bits are fried!'
Through seven counties I will search, cleaver in hand I'll roam,
And if I don't prise him from his perch, I'll flush him from his 'ome!

And we'll sing 'Fal-de-drat!  Fal-de-drat!
That mean-old lean-old in-between-old half-unclean-old Duke of Squeez-AH!'