Lamentations of a Dutch Boy at the Peasant Wedding Feast (with thanks to Pieter Bruegel the Elder)

Woe is me, Oh woe is me

This wedding is pointless and crazy

My sister has married a maniac

He’s not only brutish but lazy

I’m the only boy at this wedding

Why are they torturing me?

Yorick is out playing soccer

I’d cut off my nose to be free

I thought that the preacher would never stop

And then he invited them to kiss

People shouldn’t do stuff in public

Especially if kissing my sis

And what will they do on their wedding night?

Yorick claims they both will get nude

I myself don’t think that would happen

My sister has said that’s so lewd

The food at this wedding is awful

I’m tired of eating pigs’ tails

The kidney soup had the strangest smell

Even worse were those rabbit entrails

I’ve seen that young girl at the table before

Hilda, I think, is her name

I could ask her to sit and talk with me

But probably she’d say that’s too lame

Old Lars de Groot is off by himself

Yorick says that he’s losing his mind

He’s wearing his trousers inside out

So his front is at his behind

Mrs. De Vries is talking too loud

She thinks that she’s ever so clever

But no one has heard a single word

She tells the same story forever

Mr. De Jong looks so gloomy

His wife ran away with a stranger

They say his house has fallen apart

I heard he sleeps in the manger

This music is made for old fogies

The bagpipes are scorchy and squeaky

We’re in the sixteenth century, you know

You’d think they’d play something less freaky

My father has drunk too much liquor

The grin on his face is so sappy

My mother is flirting with the butcher

What on earth has made her so happy?

All in all, the adults are boring

They sit and they guzzle and chat

I’m tired of hearing about weather and crops

Or how Mayor de Groot got so fat

I doubt if I’ll ever get married

If I do, I hope it’s Matilda

Of course, Matilda’s quite popular

That’s why I should go and meet Hilda