Sacksmas Carols!

(aka. not so top secret project)

Delectable Friends!

                               Sacksmas is nearly upon us! Very soon, I hope, we shall all be up to our petticoats (I've seen what you Gents get up to when you think I'm not looking ;) ) in probable Snow and certain Joy! To spread the festive spirit I invite you all to join me at Benthic College's Kings Chapel for a seasonal concert of our very favourite Sacksmas Carols.

-With the help of some very fine fellows, and the use of most terrible Red Sciences, I have come up with the idea of converting some well know Christmas Carols into their right proper and respectable Neathy forms. Please, join in if you have an idea for one too!

(But beware merciless metre-ologists (no i don’t mean weathermen) of the highest order stalk these dark and pungent halls).

For your kind consideration, and quite possible delight I give you-

Neathy the Noman

Neathy the Noman, he didn’t have a soul,
With a Skyglass knife, an Amber nose, and two eyes as black as coal.

Neathy the Noman, is an old Zee-tale, they say.
Not made of snow, but the Urchins know how he came to life one day.

There must be some magic in that Unfinished Hat they found,
For when they placed it on his head, he began to stalk around!

Oh, Neathy, the Noman, was alive as he could be;
and the Urchins say he might write a play,
just the same as you and me.

Neathy the Noman, knew it was De Gust’bus day,
so he said, &quotLet’s go, ‘cause you’re out of snow, and soon I’ll melt away.&quot

Down to Veilgarden, with a B’jewelled cane in his hand,
Running with delight, all around the Spite,
sayin’, &quotTeach me if you can.&quot

He led them down the streets of London to a Neddy man;
and only paused a moment, when he shout out, &quotD–n!&quot

For Neathy, the Noman, had soon to fade away,
But he waved goodbye, sayin’ &quotDon’t you cry, For All Will Be Well someday!&quot

 Thumpety thump, thump, thumpety thump, thump,

look at Neathy go.

Thumpety thump, thump, thumpety thump, thump,
made from Unusual Pails of Snow.

(A very big thank you to my editors Malthaussen and Sestina Valdis)

Your servant,

-Mlle. Charlotte de Witte.
edited by Charlotte_de_Witte on 12/6/2015

&quotMister Sacks is Coming to Town&quot

You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not flout
In the Shadows, here’s why:

Mister Sacks is coming to Town.

Are you on his list?
Here’s a little advice
He’ll find out if you’re naughty or nice:

Mister Sacks is coming to Town

He sees you when you’re lurking
Or selling fancy clocks.
He knows if you’ve been smuggling for
The Widow at the Docks.

Oh, you better watch out
Or you’re gonna cry
Sacksmas is about
How much lacre you buy.

Mister Sacks is coming to Town.
Mister Sacks is coming to Town.

– Mal

Brilliant work Mal! Thank-you :)

  • Seeing the current mood of the Forum I’m beginning to think I should have done ‘Let it Snow’-
    edited by Charlotte_de_Witte on 11/30/2015

– Mal

((Thanks, Charlotte, I was deciding on which one to write about. =P))

Oh, the weather outside is frightful
'though the glimfall is real delightful.
But what I need 's lacre, so…
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

I would like a black Spire for shopping,
But I find that the cost is stopping
My purchasing power, so
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

During Sacksmas the price is right
For a new home to keep me warm,
Even though Neath-snow is a blight
That defies ev’ry natural norm.

My Hotel Room’s getting crowded–
Wish I could forget about it.
No, I don’t need Irrigo…
I need snow, I need snow, I need snow!

In my Townhouse, I find I am shiv’ring,
But that Embassy room is deliv’ring
A soulful red brimstone glow.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

During Sacksmas the price is right
For a new home to keep me warm,
Even though Neath-snow is a blight
That defies ev’ry natural norm.

How I tire of intimate devils
And scandalous, honey-soaked revels,
Yes, I need a quiet place to go.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

((Edit: Corrected &quotlacquer&quot into &quotlacre.&quot Thanks Mal!))
edited by Sestina Valdis on 11/30/2015
edited by Sestina Valdis on 12/1/2015

While I’m sure this is by far not the only nor the first version of this particular carol, I’m glad to share the festivities.

On the twelfth day of Sacksmas
Mister Sacks took from me
Twelve Sigils flaming
Eleven Drownies singing
Ten candles dripping
Nine Clay Men working
Eight Cats Starveling
SEVEN LETTERS EATEN
Six Jacks a’Smiling
Five Hell-Brass Rings
Four Rubb’ry Lumps
Three safe ways
Two mushroom wines
And a box of rats delivered for free

I’m not saying that a Neathy Christmas album would be the best thing ever. All I’m saying is that I might be willing to pay inordinate amounts of money for it. Also, have any of you seen this gem? Mister Sacks Is Coming To Town - YouTube

Warning: Not for the squeamish! Also, a very minor Jack of Smiles spoiler (can someone tell me how to make the little spoiler hider box?).

Lo How a Jack E’er Slaying

Low how a Jack e’er slaying
From lacre-man has sprung
Of Masters’ planning coming
Bloody rampage now begun.
He holds a blade so bright.
Amid the cold of winter
All London’s full of fright.

He wields a wicked knife,
The Jack I have in mind.
Severing both limb and life,
His thoughts are never kind.
He’s stalking London’s night
Thinking of red murder:
All London’s full of fright.

This Jack, anyone possessing,
Sprays blood into the air
Savagely dismemb’ring
Unwary people everywhere
A spirit dark and foul–
Be careful my good friend:
He is always on the prowl.

[li]
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 12/2/2015

Had to Google that carol, I am not what one might call religious. Very nice, and very good! For those who, like me, may not be so well-versed in carols, it is done to the tune of “Lo, How a Rose e’er Blooming.”

– Mal

Argh. I think I accidentally hit “report” on somebody’s box. Apologies to whomever I tagged and to the moderators.

[li]
If it was me, no worries: I am no stranger to running afoul of the Special Constabulary.

&quotHere Comes Mister Sacks&quot

Here comes Mister Sacks,
Here comes Mister Sacks,
Right down Ladybones Lane.
Vince and Fritz and all his Clay Men
Carryin’candy canes.
Chimes are ringin’, urchins singin’,
All is merry and bright.
So hang your stockings and say your prayers,
'Cause Mister Sacks comes tonight.

Here comes Mister Sacks,
Here comes Mister Sacks,
Right past Watchmaker’s pubs.
He’s got honey and glim and pearls and brass
And a few Parabola cubs.
See his sedan chair rising and falling,
Oh what a beautiful sight,
So jump in bed, and cover your head,
'Cause Mister Sacks comes tonight.

Here comes Mister Sacks,
Here comes Mister Sacks,
To Veilgarden’s honey-dens.
Actors and poets and working girls
And all their jolly friends.
Singing carols, fighting with lacre,
Banned books are burning bright,
So light your pipes and nibble your cookies,
Mister Sacks comes tonight.

Here comes Mister Sacks,
Here comes Mister Sacks,
Right through the alleys of Spite.
All the Urchins chasing him,
Try to pick his pockets, right.
Puddings, cakes, and lots of eggnog,
Are what they want tonight,
So let’s give thanks to Failbetter Games
'Cause Mister Sacks comes tonight.

Happy Neathmas, y’all.

On request I offer a neathy twist on a seasonal favourite.

The holly and the ivy,
When they are both full grown,
Of all the trees that are in the wood,
The holly bears the crown,
Oh the rising of THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE S

Thank-you Philanthropologist! Its mesmerising!

Oh dear me! With all these extra carols coming in I’m going to have to put the whole scheduled for the concert into a completely New Sequence…
edited by Charlotte_de_Witte on 12/4/2015

[quote=Lady Sapho Byron]Warning: Not for the squeamish!

Lo How a Jack E’er Slaying[/quote]

My Jacks approve! Two bloody stumps up…

I apologize in advance for this. Particularly because it got in my head and refused to leave.
Edit: instrumental version with just the right amount of menace: I Saw Three Ships - Celtic/Rock Instrumental - YouTube

I saw three ships come sailing in
To Wolfstalk quay, oh Wolfstalk quay
I saw three ships come sailing in
To London’s quay in the morning.

And the zee clipper sailed over the Zee
Orthos’ fleet away, sees how they lay
The fastest ship of those three
Came back to rest in the morning.

The majestic Yatch glides over the zee
Pleasure shall be, all to play
The zubmarine dived under the zee
Never to be seen in the morning

The drownies in chorus singing for thee
To be away, ahoy and weigh!
And fled away on the wind o’r the lee
Out to zee in the morning

And visit those dread Sisters three
For tea today, herbs to lay
Mutton Island’s well so deep
To watch one hour in the morning

Corpsegate’s beaches their quiet sleep
Grunting Fen’s day, oh dismay!
Bullbone Island, its bones to keep
Right clean they are in the morning

Port Carnelian’s call a governor to be
Hip hip hurray! Hip hip hurray!
And by the Republic changed ye be
And never the same in the morning

And how to get to Polythreme?
So far away, so far away?
A map that screams shall take Thee
Across the sea in the morning

And The way North ever shall be
Blocked from thee, or some other day?
And the Name we ever shall Seek
Or hunger again in the morning?

The drownies frolic and sing
For ye today, Quiet! they say
Their voices too, call to thee
Drawn deep to zee in the morning

Then back to London shall we be
Oh Wolfstalk quay, London’s quay
And never sail more on the sunless sea
For I swim with the drownies in the morning.
edited by Parelle on 12/4/2015

These are all truly amazing, I’m commenting so I can find this later and annoy my family members with these songs!
edited by Xane Al-Rahibi on 12/20/2015

Now, we just need to get a singer for all of these. I actually have a friend who sings well, can handle Christmas carols (unlike me), and seems like the type who’d enjoy Fallen London. Now that I think about it, she seems like the kind of girl whose Persuasive and Connected: Bohemian would skyrocket in a matter of days. And even better, I have her as a Secret Santa partner… I might get her a month of Exceptional Friendship if she joins!
Does anyone else volunteer in case my attempts fail?

One more in honour of the newly fallen So-called Snow.

We Three Clays Of Polythreme Are
Sailing West We Traverse Afar
Fluke And Fountain, Moth And Mountain
Sighted From The Spar

O Town Of Smokestacks, Town Of Lights
Town Of Heiress’s Beauty Bright.
Westward Steaming, Bat Proceeding,
Guide Us To A Quite Life.

Born A Beast On Babylon’s Plain,
A Heart’s Gift So He’d Live Again.
King Forever, Ceasing Never,
Screaming Eternal Pain.

O Town Of Candles, Town Of Knives
Town Where It Is Hard To Die
Westward Steaming, Bat Proceeding,
Guide Us To A Useful Life.

Strong-Backed Work To Offer Have I
Tending Furnaces Very High
Shovel And Stoking, Smoke Soon Choking
This Labour Soon Is Nigh

O Town Of Shadows, Town Of Lies
Town Where Stealing Thieves Do Try,
Westward Steaming, Bat Proceeding,
Guide Us To A Furtive Life.

Duty Is Mine, Loyal And True
Faithful Of Mind And Action Too
Serving, Trusty, Looming, Silent
Keeping A Guard Over You.

O Town Of Masters, And Bazaar
Town Of Echoes, Not Now Far
Westward Steaming, Bat Proceeding,
Guide Us To A Wealthy Life.

Glorious Now Behold It Arise
City And Spires Both We Do Prize
Red Fire Burning, Bright Lights Shining
What Sight For Our Eyes.

Town Of London, Jewel Of Neath
City Fallen At Love’s B’queath
Traitor Given, Sun Forsaken
Lost To You Your Starry Wreath.

(A very big thank-you to Lady Sapho Byron and Mal for all their help with this one)

Merry Sacksmas and a Happy New Lodgings to you all!

@KestrlGirl - That is an amazing idea! I do hope your friend says yes to both the Carols and to Fallen London :-)
edited by Charlotte_de_Witte on 12/6/2015

Christmas in Spite


It was December twenty-fourth and in Spite it was dark
When I seen a man chilllin’ with his sack in the park.
I approached him very slowly with my heart full of fear,
Looked at his sack, oh my God! it seemed so queer!
But then I was illin’ cause the man wore a hood,
It covered his face and he was up to no good.
So I turned my head a second and the man was gone
But he must have dropped his wallet smack dead on the lawn
I picked up the wallet and I couldn’t relax
Cause the card inside cold read &quotMr Sacks!&quot
A million echoes in it, never cold brass indeed
Enough to buy a yacht, matching sedan with ease
But I’d never steal from Sacks 'cause that ain’t safe
So my plan was to pawn it all off on some naïf,
But when I got home found a cinder under my tree
And a letter from Feb’rary said the loot was for me!!

It’s Christmas time in Neathy Spite
Mom’s cookin’ rats all through the night,
We hope to get our toffee spores,
Lacre fights and Sacks at our doors;
Send and receive a Christmas card,
Check the Advent cal, it isn’t hard,
Warm you feet by the hot Yule log
Hang pictures of a painted mog.
Most rhymes you hear are rhymes of peril
But this time’f year we bust Neathy carols,
Songs so loud and proud to hear it
It’s Christmas time and we got the spirit,
Jack Smiles chillin, upgrade your dwellin’
Taste the lacre ‘cause the wicket’s sellin’.
The place is Spite, time the healer is here
So the whole wide Neath is filled with cheer!
My name’s Lady B with the pen in my hand
And I’m planin’ and schemin’ to get a noman,
So open your eyes, lend me an ear, I want to say
Merry Christmas to all, and Happy New Year![li]
edited by Lady Sapho Byron on 12/5/2015