Bawdy and Rowdy Pagan Songs

by

Isaac Bonewits

Songs on this page: Aphrodite’s Dance, The Black Velvet Band, The Dagda’s Club, Dreamers and Scholars, The Encounter, The King of the May, The Long Red Veil, Pagan Angels, Sleepwalkers, Swing Low, Sweet Valkyrie, We Just Say, “No!”, We Won’t Shave Any Longer, and What Do You Do with a Drunken Druid?

Typographical notes: A tilde (~) is used to indicate ornamentation throughout, with double tildes indicating more of the same. Either a slash (/) or an "incorrect" comma may be used to indicate phrasing. Foreign language text (usually Irish) is set in a "Plain" typeface, since diacriticals (accent marks) in italics are too hard to read. Lines in italics usually indicate a chorus or refrain.

Aphrodite’s Dance
(The Sacred Whora)

© 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music Jewish trad.
Key of ?

Lady of Beauty,
Lady of Passion,
Lady of Pleasure,
Goddess of Love. [repeat]

Give us Your blessings bright,
Fill us with Your delight,
Ride us all through the night,
Below or above. [repeat]

Call us!
Lovers!

Whether we like boys or girls,
Hair that’s straight or all in curls,
Loving lips and clever fingers,
Through the night the magic lingers —

All in Your name!
Ecstacy’s flame:
Venus Amathusia!

Lady of Beauty,
Lady of Passion, …

[repeat entire song and dance faster and faster until you fall down!]

The Black Velvet Band

© 1989, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music Irish/Australian trad. ("Black Velvet Band")
Key of C

Duet: Plain type = male voice, underlined type = female voice.

Her eyes they shone like the diamonds, you'd think she was queen of the land.
And her hair it hung over her shoulders, tied up with a black velvet band.

'Twas at a big festival last year, when twilight was dimming the green,
That I met with a ticklesome damsel, the prettiest I'd ever seen.
Well naturally I flirted with her — to my delight she flirted back.
When I saw what was smoldering in her eyes, I knew I was on the right track.

"I hear that you are a great wizard, of the ladies you're known to be fond.
I've an urge to find out for my very own self, just how well you handle your wand."
She laughed and walked off down the pathway, once the fires within me she'd fanned.
So far away from my friends and relations, I followed that black velvet band.

Her eyes...

I spread my cape down on the soft grass, to make a snug bed for we two.
"Oh how sweet, don't you know that's the very same thing, my darling young Lugh used to do."
She pulled my old tunic right off me, "This isn't Cuchullain I've found!
Still, you've only one muscle I'm after," and hauled me down onto the ground.

"I see you're not old Dagda either! Never mind, I suppose it's O.K.
Hardly anyone is, and you've more than enough, to give us some fun as we play."
Her hands, lips, and thighs made me dizzy, my head and my heart they did spin.
To this very day, mortal words can't express the ecstacy that I was in.

Her eyes...

I tried very hard for to please her, to make her forget all those men,
But every time that I thought her quite satisfied, she started all over again!
We made love the rest of that evening and on till the following dawn.
When I cried, "I surrender!" she giggled and said, "I'm surprised that you lasted this long!"
(Me too!)

"It's a lesson you boys should be learning, though it's wisdom that seldom is found;
If you're going to be casting such spells on the girls, don't call up what you can't lay down!
I must say you're not a bad lover, nor great — I suppose you were fair."
Then she gave me a wink and a kiss, my friends, and vanished into the thin air!

Her eyes...

Now all you Pagan men listen, and hearken unto what I say,
If the Goddess of Love you're invoking, [BOTH] You'd better become a good lay.
Your festival cuddles and frolics, may not turn out quite as you've planned,
If the garland of flowers around her head, should change to a black velvet band!

Her eyes they shine like the diamonds, for She is the Queen of the Land.
And her hair it hangs over her shoulders, tied up with a black velvet band.

The Dagda's Club

© 1989, 2001 c.e.
Words by Isaac Bonewits
music by Henry Work (1875) for “My Grandfather’s Clock”
Key of C

The Dagda's club is too large for much stealth,
So it drags all the time on the ground.
It's longer by half than the Good God Himself,
Sure it's like has never been found.
It amazed on the morn of the day that He was born,
And was always His treasure and pride.
The power / of / the Dagda's mighty club
Just cannot be denied!

'Cause it's huge and it's frightening,
Wham! Bam! Wham! Bam!
It's fast as the lightening --
Wham! Bam! Wham! Bam!
The power / of / the Dagda's mighty club
Just cannot be denied!

The Dagda's a God at the peak of His prime —
No bare cheeked lad is He!
With the strength and the wit to match any other God,
And the appetites of three!
He will eat up all your food, and He'll drink up all you've brewed,
And of maidenheads soon you'll have none.
They'll line up / at / the sight of His mighty club,
Sure it dazzles everyone!

'Cause it's huge...

Morrigan, Mighty Queen, Terror of all the Gods,
Is a dangerous female.
When She screams out Her lust, mortal men grab their cods,
And immortal ones turn pale!
But the Dagda has no fear, their relationship is clear,
He can turn Her roaring to a purr.
When She wants / Her / rough and tumble way,
He just stands right up to Her!

'Cause it's huge and it's frightening,
Wham! Bam! Wham! Bam!
It's fast as the lightening --
Wham! Bam! Thank you Ma'am!
The power / of / the Dagda's mighty club
Just cannot be denied!

Dreamers and Scholars

© 1990, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music trad. ("Turkey in the Straw")

Let us sing some verses / for our predecessors bold
Who revived the worship / of the Gods of old.
Let us raise our glasses now / of cider, wine or beer:
If it hadn't been for them back then / we'd none of us be here!

Dreamers and scholars, / poets and rakes,
Some of them real / and some of them fakes.
Still we love our moms and dads --
They're the ones who started all of our new Pagan trads.

Let us sing for Sir James Frazer, / a scholar and a gent.
To rescue Pagan customs / by the Old Gods he was sent.
Ten thousand pages filled with / who, what, where, when, why, and how;
For the treasures that he gave us / he should take a "Golden Bough!"

Let us sing for Margaret Murray, / who planted a small seed
When she said that Witchcraft / was a Pagan creed.
Now I wonder if she knew / the kind of fuss that she would stir up
When she wrote about her "Witch-Cult / in Western Europe."

Let us sing for Gerald Gardner, / he's the father of us all.
When the Goddess needed help, / he quickly answered Her call.
He loved the Goddess dearly, / through many a fair maid,
And to tell you all his secrets / I would need "High Magick's Aid."

Let us praise Doreen Valiente, / a lady with much class.
She loved our Uncle Gerald, / though she thought him rather crass.
Her poetry was wonderous, / her vision without sorrow,
She labored very hard to make / a "Witchcraft for Tomorrow."

Let's not forget old Alex, / who called himself the king.
He gave us all robed rites / 'cause being nude was not his thing.
He became a real Craft leader, / though he never did confess,
That he started out by stealing / Uncle Gerald's B.O.S.

Let us praise our many Grandmas, / anonymous and meek,
With their ancient Craft traditions / that we just made up last week.
When it comes down to grandmothers, / and all is done and said,
One who simply can't speak English / works as well as one who's dead.

To plagerize poor Gerald / can bring you much reknown,
And it's easy when you merely / take out every male noun.
If people did it to them, / they would villify the crooks,
But some think it fine and dandy / for their feminist books!

The Encounter

© 1973, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music Scots trad. ("I am a Rover")
Key of D

Duet: Plain type = male voice(s); underlined type = female voice(s)

I am a Druid, and seldom rue it.
I am a Druid of high degree.
It's when I'm drinkin', the waters I'm thinkin',
How to gain the Lady's, sweet Company.
I am a priestess, and not the least is,
I am a Witch, of high degree.
It's when I'm chantin', I'm always wantin',
For to gain the Horned One's, sweet Company.

I took a walk out, in the forest,
under the full moon's white beauty.
I chanced to hear a, sweet voice singing,
Of the Lady's, great mysteries.
I was chantin', all in my circle,
of the Lady's, great mysteries,
When I heard a trampin', outside the clearin' --
"Who would spy on, my Witcheries?"

"I am no spy, nor am I churchman,
"here to spoil your, most holy rite.
"I am a priest all, of the Old Gods,
"Come to worship Them, in the night."
Stepped he then into the clearin',
a fairer man I, never did see.
And from his brow there, sprang two antlers,
Glowing with such nobility.

I left the shelter, of the oak trees,
left the rowan, and holly;
And on her fair brow, there shown a crescent,
Gleaming forth in, bright majesty.
"Oh do you chant your Druid chantin's,
and I shall sing of my Witchery!
"Together worship, the Lord and Lady --
"Come good Druid, and lie with me!"

We lay together, all in that circle;
Our hearts and bodies, we did entwine.
We worshipped gladly, the Lord and Lady,
And in our lovin', became divine!

I am a Druid, and seldom rue it. I am a Druid, of high degree. Now in each other, Sister and brother, We have both found our, Sweet Company!

I am a priestess, and not the least is, I am a Witch, of high degree. Now in each other, Sister and brother, We have both found our, Sweet Company!

The King of the May

© 1989, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music English trad. ("Sorry the Day I Was Married")
Key of G

Happy the day I was married / and holy the day I was wed.
And it's oh if I only had tarried / when I to the altar was led!

I fought hard to win all the contests, / I beat every boy in the town.
The girls they swarmed all around me / and on my head they put the crown.

They took me straightway to the altar / and wed me to our Goddess dear.
My feet neither dragged nor did falter, / my heart filled with joy, not fear.

I had my pick of 'em that evening / and all through the followin' day.
They giggled and took turns upon me, / for I was the King of the May.

Happy the day...

Ever since then I have ruled them. / from that day to this very one.
Big bellies and harvests I gave 'em, / and sure and I had my fun.

I've had every girl in the village, / a dozen times over and more.
The mothers brought me to their daughters, / and smiled as I opened the door.

For seven years I've had my pleasures, / no woman nor man said me nay.
But I'd trade all those "yes"s they gave me, / for one blessed "no" today.

Happy the day I was married / and holy the day I was wed.
And it's oh if I only could tarry, / as now to my slaughter I'm led!

The Long Red Veil
(or An Ode to Joy)

© 1998, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music traditional ("Long Black Veil")

Ten Years ago, on a hot summer night,
Some friends did meet by the pale moonlight.
The people who came, they all did agree,
That they wanted to love each other freely.

She walks these halls, in a long, red veil;~~
Visits my bed and makes me wail.~~
Everybody knows, everybody sees,
Everybody's glad, we're polys!

They said, "Come on now, let's give our love a try,"
"If we all sleep together, then we won't have to lie."
Well, I dove right in, and it changed my life,
Once I'd been in the arms, of my best friend's wife.

She walks these halls...

When her love is with another, and ecstacy is near,
She grins so sweet, and she sheds not a tear.
'Cause later that night, when the house is filled with moans,
In her long red veil, she's gonna jump my bones!

She walks these halls...

Pagan Angels

© 1996, 2001 c.e.
Words & music by Isaac Bonewits

Now every woman born can be a Maiden, Mother, Crone,
But some will walk another path that's not as quite well known.
Ecstasy divine they bring us from the Source of Love,
Flying straight into our hearts like Her sacred dove.

'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels,
Aphrodite's messengers to us on Earth,
Yes, they are angels, our Pagan angels,
Always mixing reverence with mirth!

They'll get you down upon your knees and make you wanna pray.
They'll keep you up all through the night and well into the day.
They'll make you shout in holy joy at the top of your lungs,
When they give you the blessings of their gift of tongues!
'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels...

[Verses for individual angels go here.]

Aphrodite's angels come from every tribe and race,
The strangest form and figure may hide Our Sweet Lady's grace.
So look you deep into their eyes, and perhaps you'll see
Aphrodite's glory waiting there for you and me.
'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels...

All acts of love and pleasure are Her most holy rites,
So Her priestesses inspire us through all our days and nights.
We honor or insult Her by how we speak of those
Who bring us closer to Her by taking off their clothes!
'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels...

[Optional Verses for Individual Angels, some general, some specific:]

There's an angel that I know who is a dragon of the deep.
Don't try to master her unless your oaths you can keep.
But if you bow down and adore her holy grail so bright,
She'll show you all the ways to have a real great rite!
'Cause she's an angel, Her Pagan angel...

I know an Irish angel and I often have in mind
Her perfect blend of innocence and primal lust combined.
Her spiritual effect on me I simply cannot hide,
You see, it's not on my shoulder that she likes to ride!
'Cause she's an angel, Her Pagan angel...

There's an angel who flies all around on rainbow colored wings,
A-sippin' and a-savorin' are her two favorite things.
A trip within her temple, oh it never is a bummer,
When it comes to worshipping, she's a real hummer!
'Cause she's an angel, Her Pagan angel...

I know another angel who leads Aphrodite's flock,
A dedicated priestess, she wants everyone to grok.
She'll fill your night with wonder until the break of day,
And as for morning's glory, well it's t-wooo what they say!
'Cause she's an angel, Her Pagan angel...

Let me tell you all about some sister angels dear.
If they get their little hands on you, they'll quickly make it clear,
Though they look like cherubs New Age artists like to paint,
They may indeed be short my friends, but innocent they aint!
'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels...

I've found a village full of angels, flashing smiles on every hand.
Their rougish eyes and saucy looks they make me stop and stand.
By twos and threes they beckon me, with a promise in each eye.
So much joy could prove near fatal, oh, but what a way to die!
'Cause they are angels, Her Pagan angels...

I saw an angel dance around the fire who set my heart a-thumpin',
By the lovely ways in which she was a-grindin' and a-bumpin'.
I danced myself up to her and this song I was a-hummin' —
You know it broke my heart when she said, "Sorry, wrong plumbin'!"
Though she's an angel, Her Pagan angel...

Sleepwalkers

© 1997, 2001 c.e.
Words & music by Isaac Bonewits

Some people think they're so hot,
Everyone wants them a lot,
But to me they seem so ordinary.
Whether in velvet and lace,
Or sporting holes in their face,
They're from the mortal world and not Faerie.

So let them go on their way (oh yes),
No need for them to stay;
'Cause I don't do sleepwalkers (oh no),
I don't do sleepwalkers!

I'd rather have a brief kiss
From a priestess' lips,
Than all night with someone unreal.
For if the Lady inside
Is not along for the ride,
Then to me they've just got no appeal.

So let them go on their way (oh yes),
No need for them to stay;
'Cause I don't do sleepwalkers (oh no),
I don't do sleepwalkers!

But if your spirit is true
And the Goddess in you
Awakens with Her holy lust,
Then I know you will see
The One who's deep in me,
And we can worship Them in love and trust.

So let's stop on our way (oh yes),
We could lie down and pray;
'Cause we are not sleepwalkers (oh no),
We are not sleepwalkers!
And I don't do sleepwalkers (oh no),
I don't do sleepwalkers,
I don't do... mundanes!

Swing Low, Sweet Valkyrie

© 1972, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits & Robert Pennell (50/50)
music trad. ("Swing Low, Sweet Chariot")
Key of — are you kidding?

I look o'er the battlefield / and what do I see?
Coming for to carry me home.
But a band of valkyries, / coming after me --
Coming for to carry me home.

Swing low, sweet valkyrie, Coming for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet valkyrie, Coming for to carry me home.

When I get to Valhalla, / what do I see? / Coming...
But a warrior's welcome /waiting there for me. / Coming...
When I get to the feasting hall, / what do I see? / Coming...
But a tankard in my hand / and a wench on my knee. / Coming...

Well I wake up in the morning / and what do I see? / Coming...
But a strong shapely valkyrie / cuddling next to me. / Coming...
Well I starts to make my move / and what do I see? / Coming...
But Master Sargent Heimdall / uglying on me. / Coming...

So I go out to the practice field / and what do I see? / Coming...
But my blood and gore and guts / all over me. / Coming...
I look up from the ground / and what do I see? / Coming...
But valkyries picking up / pieces of me. / Coming...

When I get back to Valhalla, / what do I see? / Coming...
It's Big Daddy Odin / resurrecting me. / Coming...
Well the next day on the practice field, / what do I see? / Coming...
But the same damned battle I was / fighting yesterday. / Coming...

After a hundred years of this, / what do I see? / Coming...
That it's a Hel of a way / to spend eternity! / Coming...
The next time I incarnate, / what will I see? / Coming...
That it's Thor or Freya / who's the one that gets me --

[Spoken:] ...or Balder, or Njord, or — better yet, Frigga --
That'd be nice... friendly, peaceful, loving maidens...

Coming for to carry... me... home!~~~

We Just Say, "No!"

[2nd Person version]
© 1988, 2001 c.e.
words and music by Isaac Bonewits
Key of C

Oh you've burned us and you've raped us. / You've torn us limb from limb.
In your hands a bloody weapon, / on your lips a pretty hymn.
You thought that you could silence us, / make the fires of freedom dim.
But --

We say "No!" (we say "No!")
We just say "No!" (we say "No!")
We say, "Never again the Burning!
Never again the Burning!
"Never again the Burning — No!"

You use every weapon that you can: / sword or gun or nuke.
And you think that our survival / was nothin' but a fluke,
While you dipped your hands in blood and gore / enough to make Christ puke!
But --

You go out after scapegoats / to terrify your flock ("baaa")
By showin' what will happen / if they your plans should block
For world domination / by gun and gold and clock.
But--

Every kind and decent human being / who walks upon the Earth
Is a target for your hatred / of love and hope and mirth.
And you'll do your bloody best to kill / the New Age that's in birth.
But --

We know that you are losing, / we know you know it too.
You fundamentalists are desperate ­ / Christian, Moslem, Jew.
And you'd love to slaughter all of us, / but we're no longer few!
And --

We know that you will try to start / the final holocaust.
You'd rather blow up all the world / than to admit you've lost.
But we are goin' to stop you, / no matter what the cost!
'Cause --

We Won't Shave Any Longer

© 1990, 2001 c.e.
words by Jeff Kalmar & Isaac Bonewits, (70/30)
music by Gwyddion Penderwen ("We Won't Wait Any Longer")
Key of D-minor

We have trusted no man's razors, / we have nicked and cut ourselves.
We've been stung by all the aftershaves / upon the drugstore shelves.
And our patience and endurance / from late puberty till now
Have given us the strength / to make this vow:

We won't shave any longer, / our beards are stronger than before.
We won't shave any longer, / our beards are stronger!

We have shaved away our stubble / and have scraped away our skin.
We have cut and hacked and sliced and diced / and raised an awful din.
And on every weekday morning / we'd be bloody nervous wrecks
Sticking wads of toilet paper / to our necks!

Now the ladies too have suffered / in their armpits and their legs,
Just to wear those pantyhose that / come in little plastic eggs.
But we think it's time to tell them / that we Pagan men don't care
If they throw away their Zipwax / and their Nair!

Through the ages many faces / have arisen and have gone.
And the male ones all looked better / with a beard and mustache on!
So the time has come to throw / our styptic pencils on the floor,
And refuse to wreck our faces / anymore!

[2 choruses]

[Spoken, using "Isis, Astarte" chant tune:]
Shick(TM), Aqua Velva(TM), Norelco(TM), Wilkensen(TM), Gillette(TM), Bic(TM), Mennen(TM) — Noxema(TM)!

What Do You Do with a Drunken Druid?

© 1989, 2001 c.e.
words by Isaac Bonewits
music trad. ("What Do You Do with a Drunken Sailor?")
Key of Duh...

What do you do with a drunken Druid? [3x]
Early in the morning?
Give him a tickle with his sickle! [3x]
Early in the morning!

Ay, hey, and up she rises,
Ay, hey, the serpent rises,
Ay, hey, and Shakti rises,
Headed for the crown-o!

What do you do with a drunken Wiccan? [3x]
Early...
Give her a whammy with her athame! [3x]
[Spoken:] Or her ath-ah-may, I don't care, it's all ah-thame to me!
Early...

What do you do with a drunken Thelemite? [3x]
Early...
Give her a thrill by her True Will! [3x]
Early...

What do you do with a drunken Viking? [3x]
Early...
Hammer on his door until he's Thor! [3x]
[Spoken:] And run very, very fast!
Early...

What do you do with a drunken Shaman? [3x]
Early...
Pound his drum to wake the bum! [3x]
Early...

What do you do with a drunk Dianic? [3x]
Early...
There's nothin' you can do 'less you're one too! [3X]
[Spoken:] And that's not funny!
Early...

What do you do with a drunken CUUPS-ter? [3x]
Early...
Light a fire in her chalice! [2x]
Put it out with love, not malice!
Early...

What do you do with a drunk Santero? [3x]
Early...
Give his chicken a good licken'! [3X]
[Spoken:] Ptath! Pthath! Pthooy!!
Early...

[ad infinitum...]

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