Lyrics: Steven Lutvak - The Dinner Party
I was at a dinner party just a couple of weeks ago
All the guests were chic and/or high powered
The repartee was brisk
Throughout the lobster bisque
And the salad course completely Noël Coward
But then the conversation took an unexpected turn
And headed frankly where, I thought, it needn't
As one by one each guest
Did his very level best
To talk about his favorite antecedent
As their relatives had been where mine had never been
This was a topic to which I could find no entry
They spoke of duchesses and lords
Barons by the hoards
Favorites of several kings who'd reaped their sweet rewards
Several from the Mayflower
Several who'd owned fjords
And we hadn't even hit the eighteenth century
But with a startling pâté
Which was lovely by the way
A most alarming hush fell on the table
My hostess smiled, "And you,
what did your family do?"
I gave the best reply which I was able
And which I swore was absolutely true
We were bagel makers to the Czar
The lineage goes back very very very far
I think Ivan was the one
Who when fed up with the bun
Sent his men in search of something starchy and bizarre
Who came upon my uncle who had recently solved the riddle
Of how to make a roll with a hole in the middle
He served them fresh to Ivan's commissar
And was thus named bagel maker to the Czar
We were bagel makers to the czar
In the land of sour cream and caviar
Later Olga it is said
Never even tasted bread
And her mother, the Tsarina
Would not get out of bed
Without a toasted onion with some unexpected spread
Which added to her middle
But did wonders for her head
Oh, the things you learn about which must remain unsaid
When you bagel maker to the czar
I realized in a flash that since I'd begun to speak
all earlier camaraderie was gone
There every jaw was slack
They were taken so aback
I really had no choice but to go on
We were bagel makers to the czar
Who would give us every year another samovar
And it was Catherine the Great
That over-zealous head of state
Who fed some to her horse
But that of course
For her was par
And little Anastasia could never get her fill
See there are those who say
That yet today
She's snacking on them still
But then that's taking things a little bit too far
For even bagel makers to the czar
Before the hammer and the sickle
We were there with pumpernickel
The things we did with poppy
Everyone unsuccessfully tried to copy
[Everybody]
We were bagel makers to the czar
[Oh, thank you, that was wonderful]
No one ever learned the secret of our scrumptious repertoire
But of course it couldn't last
For, like all empires of the past
Who reach their inevitable finales
For when the revolution came
We very slightly changed our name
Traveled North
And made a fortune in bialys
All the guests were chic and/or high powered
The repartee was brisk
Throughout the lobster bisque
And the salad course completely Noël Coward
But then the conversation took an unexpected turn
And headed frankly where, I thought, it needn't
As one by one each guest
Did his very level best
To talk about his favorite antecedent
As their relatives had been where mine had never been
This was a topic to which I could find no entry
They spoke of duchesses and lords
Barons by the hoards
Favorites of several kings who'd reaped their sweet rewards
Several from the Mayflower
Several who'd owned fjords
And we hadn't even hit the eighteenth century
But with a startling pâté
Which was lovely by the way
A most alarming hush fell on the table
My hostess smiled, "And you,
what did your family do?"
I gave the best reply which I was able
And which I swore was absolutely true
We were bagel makers to the Czar
The lineage goes back very very very far
I think Ivan was the one
Who when fed up with the bun
Sent his men in search of something starchy and bizarre
Who came upon my uncle who had recently solved the riddle
Of how to make a roll with a hole in the middle
He served them fresh to Ivan's commissar
And was thus named bagel maker to the Czar
We were bagel makers to the czar
In the land of sour cream and caviar
Later Olga it is said
Never even tasted bread
And her mother, the Tsarina
Would not get out of bed
Without a toasted onion with some unexpected spread
Which added to her middle
But did wonders for her head
Oh, the things you learn about which must remain unsaid
When you bagel maker to the czar
I realized in a flash that since I'd begun to speak
all earlier camaraderie was gone
There every jaw was slack
They were taken so aback
I really had no choice but to go on
We were bagel makers to the czar
Who would give us every year another samovar
And it was Catherine the Great
That over-zealous head of state
Who fed some to her horse
But that of course
For her was par
And little Anastasia could never get her fill
See there are those who say
That yet today
She's snacking on them still
But then that's taking things a little bit too far
For even bagel makers to the czar
Before the hammer and the sickle
We were there with pumpernickel
The things we did with poppy
Everyone unsuccessfully tried to copy
[Everybody]
We were bagel makers to the czar
[Oh, thank you, that was wonderful]
No one ever learned the secret of our scrumptious repertoire
But of course it couldn't last
For, like all empires of the past
Who reach their inevitable finales
For when the revolution came
We very slightly changed our name
Traveled North
And made a fortune in bialys
2 Comments:
Where can I get a copy of this recording? I had it years ago and seemed to have misplaced it. Thanks.
Search for Steven Lutvak The Time It Takes on amazon.com. I also found that someone posted it on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldkKGiqj200
Post a Comment
<< Home