Activities Blog

Scratch, Scratch, Scratch Your Head (a round for 4 voices)

Prompt ▼

Prompt Card: Write a poem that apologizes for how it ends.

Word Cards: Nostalgia / Caliginous You only need to choose one word card.

Round, round, round we go,
all around the joint.
Sorry, but this goes nowhere
and has no bloody point.

Join, join, join right in,                     Round, round, round we go,
singing endless crap.                      all around the joint.
If you think it can't get worse          Sorry, but this goes nowhere
then give yourself a slap.                and has no bloody point.

Yep, yep, yep, you know,                Join, join, join right in,                     Round, round, round we go,
that I stole the song.                       singing endless crap.                      all around the joint.
Play the old nostalgia card,           If you think it can't get worse          Sorry, but this goes nowhere
repeat it all night long.                    then give yourself a slap.                and has no bloody point.

Check, check, check your watch,   Yep, yep, yep, you know,                Join, join, join right in,                     Round, round, round we go,
pray for it to end.                             that I stole the song.                       singing endless crap.                      all around the joint.
Too much more of this old slop       Play the old nostalgia card,           If you think it can't get worse          Sorry, but this goes nowhere
could drive you round the bend.     repeat it all night long.                     then give yourself a slap.               and has no bloody point.

Time, time, time to stop—               Check, check, check your watch,   Yep, yep, yep, you know,                Join, join, join right in,
this is such a bore.                          pray for it to end.                             that I stole the song.                       singing endless crap.
Pack it in, call a halt,                       Too much more of this old slop       Play the old nostalgia card,           If you If you think it can't get worse
and don't sing it no more.                could drive you round the bend.     repeat it all night long.                    then give yourself a slap.

                                                        Time, time, time to stop—               Check, check, check your watch,   Yep, yep, yep, you know,
                                                        this is such a bore.                          pray for it to end.                             that I stole the song.
                                                        Pack it in, call a halt,                       Too much more of this old slop       Play the old nostalgia card,
                                                        and don't sing it no more.                could drive you round the bend.     repeat it all night long.

                                                                                                                Time, time, time to stop—               Check, check, check your watch,
                                                                                                                this is such a bore.                          pray for it to end.
                                                                                                                Pack it in, call a halt,                       Too much more of this old slop
                                                                                                                and don't sing it no more.                could drive you round the bend.

                                                                                                                                                                        Time, time, time to stop—
                                                                                                                                                                        this is such a bore.
                                                                                                                                                                        Pack it in, call a halt,
                                                                                                                                                                        and don't sing it no more.



Form: Round based roughly on the structure for "Row, row, row your boat"
Lines: 20 (or 32, depending on your point of view)

Note ▼

I know it's a song, but if Bob Dylan can get a Nobel Prize for literature...

And yes, the time spent on formatting it could probably have been better spent on writing something less moronic.