[Intro: Sir Jarlsberg]
Everyone is chirp-chirp-chirping
About the Fair now
(Where is thy fair?)
Why it's at the Fairgrounds, but of course!

[Verse One: Jer aka Sir Jarlsberg]
One day they will call this a Renaissance Fair
But we are living in the now
Why dost thou stop and stare?
As the merchants emerge
And my games of to yen(?)
There goes Clerico Cotchery
One of many fair friends!

[Verse Two: Lateef the Truthspeaker aka Clerico Cotchery]
Well I came to this fair as a cleric
As you can see
By my mace and kite shield
But for some reason everyone is staring
And asking me if I'm a priest or knight king
Which is rather odd
They must only be familiar with the Hobbit
Or Harry Potter
They're not hard core
They know not the Dungeons and Dragons laws
Of fighter classes
I call them classless!
They can't even discuss which they like more:
Version 3.5 or four
Ask them!
I question their authenticity
They're only here because they watched Game of Thrones Season three
ACH! Asses!
I just came to watch of this joust
And talk to this buxom wench selling meat on a stick
And saying it's the best thing she's ever had in her mouth
Which is something that I seriously doubt!
Wanting to try her out
Perhaps this horn of ale can be of some help
(Perhaps!) It's so clever
('Tis true lyrical, cleric!)
[Verse Three: Blockhead aka Gnomie]
Ya'll check it, yo
It's the gnone
Coming to the fair
Brushing my beard with a squirrel-tooth comb
I gotta look sharp, I gotta look nice
Should I bring my pipe or my homemade harp?
Perhaps I'll play a song that will make the maidens work
Catching her eyes with my pointed-toed shoes
Sitting on a toadstool drinking some cold brew from a thimble
A few more of these and I'm ready to fight your kinfolk
Drink some more mead, go pee upon a tree
No one notices me: I'm two-foot-three!
By now I've had enough and I'm getting rambunctious
So I drop-kick a mime and I'm out just like harvest!

[Verse Four: Baby Dayliner aka William of Orange]
I've got your wench and a yeoman, scrubbing my back
Giving me a bath before I go to the fair
You see, William don't crack: always looking spanking
And the peasants may stare
And the noble classes ranking: the nobles are judging
I'm deep in my cup so I want her to take it
I want fire-breathing, potato-juggling
Or something equally elating (Like what??)
Like a man on a bed of nails
Or a woman throwing poop yelling "bally-hoo!"
From her windmill rail
How's about knife-throwing?
You know where I'm going
A bean-bag toss
A turkey leg with sauce
But I may just stick with the performances of rhythm and rhyme
The Canterbury chums, always on time
Song poems: every day
Song poems: every way
(Forlorn Maiden: yea or nay?) (YEA!)
[Verse Five: Forlorn Maiden]
Rolling with my usual squires
Although I was tired of taking off my chastity belt
To be admired
My corset is locked up and easy to pop in
(Ooh, there's the Duke of Squirrel!)
I'm so glad he dropped in
(ARGH!) Gnomie's drunk and I'm back on a frot block
The Duke cuts in, now we neck on the dock
(So the Fair was a success?) Yes!
But I keep on my dress
And I Crush, Kill, Destroy, Stress!
For I'm a true maiden, the mother-huckin' best!
And I can't be your lover....

[Verse Six: Mingus the Giant]
(Hookah hookah hookah)
What do I see there?
From over the trees, I see the flags of the Fair
Mingus the Giant here, and I'm living large
I'll have you coming out your face just like Large Marge
My voice has got a lot of bass, but I'm gentle
A friendly giant who is per-son-a-ble
So never mind my appearance and [???]
And watch as I bob for 37 apples
Yah, I got 'em all! Say ho! (HO!)
[Verse Seven: Jarlsberg]
(Come on Jarlsberg, let's start this party)
On this lovely sunny morn
I was awoken from my slumber as the fat Fair blare
I'd been dreaming of faeries, eating berries
While riding in a carriage
I slide on my pantaloons
Tighten up my ascot
The Fair has begun
And I'm meeting the chums by that flat rock
I can't wait
To have some laughs and do some arts and crafts
And participate
In thy rotten tomato toss
Where we get to hurl 'em at a bunch of burly men
I looked enough to ride them some a sim-u-la-tion
This different type of music gives me inspi-ra-tion
And I go from .... to ... in just one in-stance
Now listen as the Steedy King sings
Why? He's finicky

[Verse Eight: Steedy King]
If you wanna ride on a horse's back
You gotta swing your legs and grab the saddle strap
Because the Fair's in state
And I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!)
I said hold on to my mane!
And whip my ass again!
And squeeze your legs so tight
Cause I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!)
So pat me on my thighs
And help me shoo away these horseflies
This ain't no pony ride
I'm about to buck back! (He's about to buck back!)
(Pat-pat me on your thighs! Pat-pat me on your thighs!)
See you at the stable

[Verse Nine: Lord Richard]
(Lord Richard: halt! Don't steal that prize)
Why shouldn't I?
(Because it took a lonely lovely little lad five tries
To get that boysenberry pie)
And now it's mine, as the boy starts to cry!
Quiet! I need silence while I try it
(You're horrible!)
Anyway the boy needs a diet
(Just horrible!)
(Come on Richard, stop being such a scoundrel!)
There's only two types of ladies in this land that I've ever met:
Ones that I've slayed
And those I haven't slayed yet
I take a gander to my left and everything I see is righteous
And I might bust the flyest maiden in a tight dress!
I guess I got the golden touch like Mi-das
Minus the titles with the highness
Meeting all the chums at the Fair now's the best
If they let their hair down I doth won't protest
Now loosen up that bodice
Now there go my bottoms!
(Can you think of any word to describe this Fair?)
Awesome
(Okay Richard, that's great and all, but you said some very mean, disturbing things)
Now you know baby
(I would really recommend confessing your sins to Father Paul, he's right down yonder!)

[Verse Ten: Aesop Rock aka Father Paul]
I drink holy water with the holy ghost
I got the mother(hark)in' lord on my breakfast toast
I got a clean bowl cut and a robe with ropes
I got the body and blood, I fuckin' know the pope
He said to love your mom and respect your neighbor
Unless it's a family of filthy pagans
Say ten Hail Marys on a daily basis
I want to give a shout out to the baby Jesus
I'm Father Paul
Our Father, ya'll
I'm a man of the cloth, got a cross on the wall
And I wear sandals when I spread the gospel
That's word to the twelve Apostles!
(Go Paul! Go Paul! Be warned!)
(That's my frisky granny, everyone guard your fannies!)

[Verse Eleven: Kimya Dawson aka Thy Frisky Granny]
Come hither for some sugar from Jarlsberg's grandmother
In my giant bosom, I'd like to smother you
And tell you how big you've gotten!
A slip of the lip, cause I am besotted
A slip of the lip, now a slip of the tongue
In your ear as my hand finds its way to thine bum
Then you give a little wink and I give a little curtesy
Someone pass the grog, cause granny's feeling dirty
Now my velvet panties are in your golden drawers
I like it when my man is hung like a horse!
(Oh my!) Heh! Heh-heh-heh-heyyy!
(And I'm about to buck back! Buck back!)
(Oh Noble Father, there you are)
(Tally ho!)
(Can we hear some fife to get granny to stop embarrassing me?)

[Verse Twelve/Outro: Jon Gibson aka Noble Father Jon]
My name's Noble. Father. Jon
My fife playing is above and beyond
Yes this current-day fair is so next
Me thinks I'll toot a little doodle
[*Fife plays*]
(Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Tally Ho, hey!) [repeats]