Aside:

Here’s the second of the new texts especially written by Ian McMillan for our opera (see below). This one is a lament about not being able to sing. Except the character can sing, he just thinks he can’t. I’ve already set this one.

TEARS LIKE A BUST PIPE

(A song for the Dad)

Am blutherin and blubberin

Me soul-case art.

As’ll nivver be a singer.

Ah’ll be silent as a stick in’t

Bucket in’t coil oil.

As’ll nivver catch fire.

That’s why ah’m roooarin.

 

Tears like a bust pipe.

Tears like a bust pipe.

 

It’s all reyt singin’ in’t lav

Or singin on’t bus on’t way to’t pit.

Lads expect it:

‘Come on George, giz a tune.

Come on Caruso, giz a song.

Come on lad, mek them nooats fly

Like homing pigeons flappin’ back to’t loft!’

Till’t bus stops.

And we climb in’t cage.

And drop darn to ‘ell.

 

 

Tears like a bust pipe

Tears like a bust pipe

 

As’ll nivver be a singer

And it breaks me chuffin ‘eart;

As’ll nivver be a singer.

As’ll nivver hold that nooat

Like a promise

Till’t clappin starts

And’t cheerin.

 

Tears like a bust pipe

Tears like a bust pipe

 

I should stay on’t bus

Gu back through Plevna

ride through Slosh,

Ovver’t Wesh

End up in Jump

And when I get to Jump

Just Jump. Jump in’t air

And sing as ah’m Jumpin

Jump in’t air

And sing as ah’m jumpin

Jump in’t air

And sing as I’m jumpin…

Until then, I’m roaring

 

Tears like a bust pipe

Tears like a bust pipe

 

 

 

 

and here’s Ian reading it

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