The Song of Old Man Dell

A bawdy tune for an ale-soaked evening.

Now this tale I tell of Old Man Dell
And How His balls kept swingerin' lower
Through long path he tread, and nowhere near dead
but his balls kept swingerin' lower
Though fields he plow, and sweated his brow
Still his balls kept swingerin' lower
While rocking his chair, and the night was fair
and his balls kept swingerin' lower
While he milked the cows, and fed his sows
but his balls kept swingerin' lower
Now Sally comes a calling, his eyes on her bust falling
But his balls kept swingerin' lower
So full of haste, no time does Dell waste
and his balls kept swingerin' lower
Sally was having none of it, refusing him rear and tit
'cause his balls kept swingerin' lower
Angry and horned up, he dove too deep into a cup
and his balls kept swingerin' lower
Drunk off his gourd, he roamed out all terribly bored
Though his balls kept swingerin' lower
He stepped too close, and suddenly morose
he stopped his balls from swingerin' lower
With a yell he did trip, and into the ravine did he slip
now, his balls swingerin' higher
Still we remember, how he himself did dismember
those balls always swingerin' lower...
The church bells still ring, as we remember his fling
thanks to those balls always swingerin' lower.

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This is a bawdy tavern ditty, designed for the drunk and easily pleased masses. Many inns and taverns that this song frequents will introduce their own verses, giving it local flavor or humor. This is a good one for everyone to get into singing easily.