39.
MY BONNY

  (Tune: My Bonnie Lies Over the
         Ocean)

My father's a trade union leader,
A friend of Citrine and Deakin;
The working class call him a bleeder-
But God, how the money rolls in!
My God, my God, my God, how the money
  rolls in, rolls in! 
(Repeat last line)

My very intelligent sister
In Moscow is doing her best;
The commissars cannot resist her --
And you can imagine the rest!
Karl Marx,  Karl Marx, Karl Marx, how
  the roubles roll in, etc.

My cousin's an agent for Franco,
He operates miles from the line;
When Frank wants a gun or a tanko,
He just drops my cousin a line.
My God, my God, etc.

My brother's a slum missionary,
A-saving young maidens from sin,
He'll save you a blonde for a shilling
My God, how the money rolls in,
My God, my God, etc.

My aunt runs a girls' seminary,
A-teaching young girls to begin,
But she never shows them where to
  finish,
My God, how the money rolls in!
My God, my God, etc.

My father makes counterfeit money,
My mother makes synthetic gin,
My sister makes love for a penny,
My God, what a mess I am in!
My God, my God, etc.

I've spent all the counterfeit money,
I've drunk all the synthetic gin,
I've been making love to my sister,
My God, what a mess I am in I
My God, my God, etc.

TALKING STALIN BLUES

Now come all you members of the old
  C.P.,
Come sit in a circle and listen to
  me,
And when I tell you you'll sure stay
  told.
Gonna sing about the Vozid-Marx, 
  bless his soul,
Gone to glory,
Workers' Paradise.
I wonder if he'll overfulfill his
  quota? 

Now in the Daily Worker and the New
  York Times,
You've all been reading about Stalin's
  crimes,
But if you view it dialectically,
  I'm sure, you'll find
That Uncle Joe's been much maligned,
A product of the Trotskyite-McCarthy
  conspiracy -- no doubt.
Now Joe was never a maniac,
Or a child-molesting necrophiliac,
And in party circles we should never
  speak-
Of his non-existent sadistic streak,
He was just misunderstood, 
Loved children--
Dogs--
Kulaks too!
 

NEW TALKING UNION BLUES

Now look here Buddy, what's this I
  see?
I see you're making more than me.
It's plain to see we need a change.
Let's get together, see what we can
  arrange.
We need a Union,
The Soviet Union,
A real dictatorship of the proletar-
  iat.

So he Joined the Party, he was doing
  fine,
Parrotting out that old Party Line.
He'd carry an umbrella if the
  weather was fair,
Cause if it rained in Moscow that's
  all he'd care.
He was loyal -- True blue,
Just like R.C.A. Victor...
His Master's Voice.


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