From: Mark Datko
Newsgroups: alt.fan.pratchett
Subject: [I][Filk] On the Road to Ankh-Morpork
Date: Fri, 9 Feb 2001 13:52:13 -0000


By Vetinari's Palace
Lookin rimwards to the Ankh
There's a dusky seamstress sittin
Who'll oblige me on the bank
For the smells waft from the river
As the Sator traders talk
Come you back you Ramtop watchman
Come you back to Ankh-Morpork

Come you back to Ankh-Morpork
Where the species rant and squawk
Can't you 'ear them wizards spellin
From four-X to Ankh Morpork

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' The Drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork

Er petticoat was yaller
An er litle cowl was green
An er name was Molly Coddle
Jes the same as Beggar's Queen
An I seed her first a-nibblin
On  Dibblers dodgy grub
An a-wastin juicy kisses
In Filigree Street Pub

Bloomin watchman she did rob
Who they called the Great Lord Nobb-
Plucky lot she cared for watchmen
When I kissed her for a bob

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' The Drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork

When the mist was o'er the city
An the sun was hidden in smog
She'd git er littl banjo an
She'd sing of that Hedgehog
With 'er arm upon my shoulder
An er hand  upon  my hand
We useter watch the trade boats an
The battered shipments land

Golems a-pilin sand
On  the sludgy, squudgy strand
Where the porters scurried slowly
Carting vittals on demand

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' The Drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork


I am sick o wastin leather
On these gritty pavin stones
An the blasted Hubwards drizzle
Wakes the fever in my bones
Tho I walks with twenty watchmen
from Short Street to the gate
An they talks a lot of nothin
Of paths they've learnt to hate

Alleys dark and grubby
Law left to Carrot's plate
I've a neater, sweater maiden
I hope, there lies my fate.

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' The Drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork


But thats all shove be'ind me
A long forgotten walk
An there ain't no coach for me
From BadAss to AnkhMorpork
An I'm learnin ere in Lancre
What the ten-year watchmen tells
If you'se eard the Rim a calling
You wont never eed naught else
No you want need nothin else
But them noxious spicy smells
An the seamstress and the night shades
An the Omnian temple bells

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' The Drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork

Ship me widdershns of Khali
Where the best is like the worst
Where there arent no pryin vampyres
An a man can really thirst
But those seamstress cries are  callin
And now my dreams have sank
By that Patricians palace
Gazing lazy at the Ankh

On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where the species rant and squawk
Can't you 'ear them wizards thinkin
From four-X to Ankh Morpork
On the road to Ankh Morpork
Where guild  assassins stalk
An' the drum serves up the scumble
To the lowest local dork


(never thought much of his cakes anyway ;)  )


Mark Datko   (hippo)