The crops have failed again this year
And we can’t find a virgin Christian cop we can steer
Manipulate and engineer
Into helping us out
There aren’t that many celibate policemen about
And the Islanders insist
Our harvest festival should not be missed
So we are looking for a volunteer
To get in a boat or a seaplane and come to us here
We guarantee a very warm welcoming fire
While we all sing and dance in some traditional costumes we hire
Specially for the day
You’ll love the pole we prance around every first of May.
We keep our old pastimes fresh and alive:
Fertility dancing continues to thrive.
You can stay over at the Green Man Inn
Lord Summerisle himself often pops in.
You’ll get to see the spectacular sunrise view
When we lift up and elevate you
Into our famous giant wicker-weave art installation
While we gather round in great jubilation
We will keep well back to avoid smoke inhalation
In the interests of our safety and health.
We’ll all reap in the benefits as you sacrifice yourself
To nature and you will have served the greater good
Just like that last chap who came here, Edward Woodwood.
Oh, there was one other bloke, who we sadly failed to please
He didn’t like it when he got stung by lots of bees
But Summerisle assures us that won’t happen to you
Just don’t expect to go home and write about us in a Tripadvisor review.
Arthur Chappell
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