"It was the real thing
That made my ding a ling ring
It was the real thing
That made my ding a ling ring... "
From The Real Thing by The Spiders (1954)--The answer to The Toy Bell (aka My Dingaling) by The Bees (1954).
The Hippopotamus
Now, you really have been tremendously nice, posterity would be proud of you, and perhaps you'd like to help us even more now by joining in the last chorus of this next song. You don't have to if you don't want to, if it embarrasses you, but it would be rather a pity if you don't sing tonight because tonight, by way of encouragement, attendants will be passing amongst you with rawhide whips. This is one of the first songs Donald and I wrote together, it turned out to be a lucky day for us. Today is also another rather splendid day as today is the 50th anniversary of that marvellous day when Alloykin, the Russian chessmaster, played King's pawn to Knight 7th. This caused quite a stir as they were playing bridge at the time.In honour of this, and because I can't think of any other way to get round it, Donald is going to sing the second chorus of this song in Russian. This is the very first of the animal songs, some people think the title of this song is irrelevant. But it's not irrelevant, it's a Hippopotamus.
A bold Hippopotamus was standing one day
On the banks of the cool Shalimar
He gazed at the bottom as it peacefully lay
By the light of the evening star.
Away on a hilltop, sat combing her hair
Was a fair Hippopotami maid;
The Hippopotamus was no ignoramus
And sang her this sweet serenade:
'Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud'
The fair Hippopotama he aimed to entice
From her seat on that hilltop above
As she hadn't got a Ma to give her advice
Came tiptoeing down to her love.
Like thunder the forest re-echoed the sound
of the song that they sang when they met
His inamorata adjusted her garter
And lifted her voice in duet (in Russian)
(in Russian, DS sings, MF translates --> See bottom of page)
'Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud!'
That should improve our cultural relations
The bold Hippopotami began to convene
On the banks of that river so wide
I wonder, now, what am I to say of the scene
That ensued by the Swhalimar side?
They dived all at once, with an ear-splitting splosh
Then rose to the surface again
A regular army
of Hippopotami
All singing this haunting refrain:
'Mud, Mud, glorious mud
Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood
So follow me, follow
Down to the hollow
And there let us wallow
In glorious mud'!