Panto Poem
Hi folks,
As I write this, my time on tour with Chaplin's Panto's is coming to an end, for this year at least. To celebrate and to go along with my new collection of photos from the tour, here is a panto poem. Enjoy!
Children, Children, Everywhere
Children, children, everywhere it's panto-time once more
And now I'm acting in one and my limbs are getting sore
Panto is an old tradition, demented and bizarre:
Men dressed in women's clothes, and pretty girls who are
Made to humiliate themselves, pretending they're in love
And they pretending to kiss each other to crazy howls of
"Lesbians!", oh children know too much
To do a Christmas panto needs a smart but knowing touch
Believe me when I tell you, it's a tricky thing to do
'Cos when you think you know it all you haven't got a clue
To set up scenery, lights and sound is a disciplined form of art
It's all been put up, good to go, and then it falls apart
My costume's on, the lights go up, I crap my pants, I'm dying
The thought of entertaining noisy children is so terrifying
You must watch what you say and do, and handle them with care
Don't touch them, never lose your rag and never ever swear
The kids come in and they sit down, in need of some excitement
And on we go and do our thing to give them that incitement
To get worked up and screaming, shouting, noisy as a riot
But nothing works, they sit there bored, unmoving, keeping quiet
It's hard to get them going when you feel that they're ignoring you
You want to see "Oh, cheer up, can't you see we're entertaining you?"
Backstage and things are going nuts are brains are on the boil
With costume changes, setting props, we're stressing as we toil
The Dame has missed her cue "Oh damn!" - she's sworn into her mic
It's rude and it's ill-mannered and it's most unladylike,
And as for me, relaxed and cool-headed I am not
I've dried up, I've forgot my lines, I've truly lost the plot
And as if that were not enough, my costume's inside out
And scrambling to correct it sets of a bout
Of hissyfitting - oh I can't believe how it's all gone awry
If something else goes wrong I swear I'm going to cry
Out front the comic and the dame have got the children in a lather
With their silly banter, funny words and comical palaver
They make the children happy with their patter and their song
The audience is warming up, they don't stay still for long
They're clapping and they're cheering and they're dancing to the beat
They're making such a ruckus as they're stamping with their feet
I come onstage and I engage in panto baddie meanery
Their booing and their jeering blow me backwards through the scenery
The hero wins and gets the girl, lives happily ever after
The children love it, overjoyed, so full of smiles and laughter
The show is done - when I get home I fall into a heap
Of broken, knackered body parts and then I fall asleep
I don't why I do it for my life has been torpedoed
I've lost the Christmas feeling, now I'm well and truly pantoed.
As I write this, my time on tour with Chaplin's Panto's is coming to an end, for this year at least. To celebrate and to go along with my new collection of photos from the tour, here is a panto poem. Enjoy!
Children, Children, Everywhere
Children, children, everywhere it's panto-time once more
And now I'm acting in one and my limbs are getting sore
Panto is an old tradition, demented and bizarre:
Men dressed in women's clothes, and pretty girls who are
Made to humiliate themselves, pretending they're in love
And they pretending to kiss each other to crazy howls of
"Lesbians!", oh children know too much
To do a Christmas panto needs a smart but knowing touch
Believe me when I tell you, it's a tricky thing to do
'Cos when you think you know it all you haven't got a clue
To set up scenery, lights and sound is a disciplined form of art
It's all been put up, good to go, and then it falls apart
My costume's on, the lights go up, I crap my pants, I'm dying
The thought of entertaining noisy children is so terrifying
You must watch what you say and do, and handle them with care
Don't touch them, never lose your rag and never ever swear
The kids come in and they sit down, in need of some excitement
And on we go and do our thing to give them that incitement
To get worked up and screaming, shouting, noisy as a riot
But nothing works, they sit there bored, unmoving, keeping quiet
It's hard to get them going when you feel that they're ignoring you
You want to see "Oh, cheer up, can't you see we're entertaining you?"
Backstage and things are going nuts are brains are on the boil
With costume changes, setting props, we're stressing as we toil
The Dame has missed her cue "Oh damn!" - she's sworn into her mic
It's rude and it's ill-mannered and it's most unladylike,
And as for me, relaxed and cool-headed I am not
I've dried up, I've forgot my lines, I've truly lost the plot
And as if that were not enough, my costume's inside out
And scrambling to correct it sets of a bout
Of hissyfitting - oh I can't believe how it's all gone awry
If something else goes wrong I swear I'm going to cry
Out front the comic and the dame have got the children in a lather
With their silly banter, funny words and comical palaver
They make the children happy with their patter and their song
The audience is warming up, they don't stay still for long
They're clapping and they're cheering and they're dancing to the beat
They're making such a ruckus as they're stamping with their feet
I come onstage and I engage in panto baddie meanery
Their booing and their jeering blow me backwards through the scenery
The hero wins and gets the girl, lives happily ever after
The children love it, overjoyed, so full of smiles and laughter
The show is done - when I get home I fall into a heap
Of broken, knackered body parts and then I fall asleep
I don't why I do it for my life has been torpedoed
I've lost the Christmas feeling, now I'm well and truly pantoed.
