A quasi-Irish love song about vegetables--and garden pests.
[4/4, fast bluegrass]
EARWIGS IN THE EGGPLANT
[THE RAP: When 45 Degrees North got hired to play the Manzanita Farmer’s Market, we thought it would be appropriate to do a song about vegetables. That means Joe writes a song about vegetables, because that’s what I do. Turns out there is a vegetable, fruit or flower for every letter of the alphabet. There is also a garden pest for almost every letter of the alphabet. So… Could we combine the two lists in alphabetical order and have it make sense? Oh, and have it sound Celtic, because we have a fiddle player who likes Irish music? That’s how we ended up with an Irish love song called “Earwigs in the Eggplant.”]
A D A
When the aphids on your apricots have eaten all your yard,
D A E
And there’s borers in your broccoli, and cutworms in your chard,
A D A
And the deer amid the dahlias are dining daintily,
D A E A
Like the earwigs in your eggplant, I hope you’ll think of me.
When the grubs are on your gherkins, and your fennel’s got the flu,
D A E
Rest assured that there’s no cure for what I’ve got for you;
A D A
I’ll be here for you, and near to you, like hornworms in your hay—
D A E A
Like the earwigs in your eggplant, I will never go away.
[INSTRUMENTAL (FIDDLE) BREAK—A PART ONLY]
When there’s ice upon your irises, your kale has all been cleft,
And the leafhoppers lunched until there’s not a lentil left,
And the midges munched your mushrooms into little bits of goo,
Like the earwigs in your eggplant, I’ll be there to comfort you.
As the nematodes are noshing on your nifty nectarines,
And drove the onions underground to never more be seen,
I’ll be there, like potato bugs appearing with the dawn—
Like the earwigs on your eggplant, I’ll be there to carry on.
[INSTRUMENTAL (FIDDLE) BREAK—A AND B PARTS]
When the rot is on the rhubarb and your quinces turned to cwap,
And the snails ha’ got your spinach and they’re suckin’ out the sap;
Tribulation’s touched your tulips since the turtles came to town,
Like the earwigs in your eggplant, I will always be around.
When the voles are doing violence to the vineyard in the back,
Your yams have gotten yucky, the zucchini’s all been zapped;
Like the weevils in the watercress, you’ve eaten out my heart,
And like the earwigs in your eggplant, we will never be apart.
[REPEAT MUSIC FROM B PART TO END—ENDS ON LAST NOTE OF B PART]
© 2011 J. Wrabek dba Outside Services Ltd. All the usual rights reserved just in case. No vegetables were harmed in the writing of this song (but if you’ve read the lyrics, it’s coming).