Digital Tradition Mirror

Boris, Boris

Boris, Boris

Boris was a gentleman
In the Tsar's regime;
Boris was a gentleman
Or so it did seem.
     Boris had a lady fair
     Her name it was Loween
     And ev'ry night she'd wake in fright
     And this is what she'd scream:

cho: Boris, Boris, save me, save me
     From the Cossacks at my heels (hey! hey! hey!)
     Boris, Boris, save me, save me
     There are only three more reels.

Boris rode upon a horse
Sagging in the middle
Boris rode upon a horse,
Playing on a fiddle.
     It was Boris, not the horse
     Sagging in the middle;
     It was the horse, not Boris
     Playing on the fiddle.
Boris had an accident, it wasn't all his fault
Boris sneezed and, what you think?
The horse he caught a colt.

Boris, in Siberia,
A bushy beard did grow
And when he died, he willed this beard
To Miss Loween to go.
     And ev'ry night she wakes in fright
     And murmurs 'neath her breath
     "Boris, Boris,
     "You're tickling me to death."

Note: learned from a "heroic monotone" named Alan Shulman ca.
     1953. Tune is (more or less) Hatikvah, freely rendered,
RG

Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!