This song can be variously arranged. In general the second voice can be replaced by an instrument, and the publisher is offering an arrangement for male choir (accompanied). I encourage an absurd camped-up operatic rendering -- though that can't be achieved in my computer playbacks. In my recording I have had to use choir sounds rather than solo voices, owing to the lack of suitable sound samples. The accompaniment used in my recording is not a zither as some people have thought, but instrument 88 from the standard General MIDI set, which is described as "Synth lead 8 (bass & lead)". This or an electric guitar would be particularly suitable where a stronger sound is required to balance with a choir; to my ears a piano, although workable, is a bit bland.

I wrote this song to entertain a Re-evaluation Counselling group who wanted something light-hearted and positive in spirit. At the time I was studying at Exeter University and staying in a student residence at the top of a little west-draining valley on the campus. The stream in this little valley had been formed into a series of artificial ponds which were frequented by ducks (and other waterfowl), whose antics caused me much amusement. The valley scooped up and channelled gales from a westerly point, giving the copse at the top, in which my residence nestled, a noisy buffetting, occasionally blowing over the odd tree. The song captures some of that experience in a light-hearted way...

The song's text is as follows:

A pillowful of feathers falling, falling, flapping, flapping,

flapping in the weathers; the flipping flapping weathers ...(repeat)

A ragged twirly whirlwind of falling, falling autumn leaves

scurries with the wild-eyed sky of autumn gales.

The mallard ducks have had their quacklings

long ago upon the tinkly ripply waters
and still are quacking, quack-quack quacking.

And now into the ragged autumn gales are flapping, flapping, squawking,

squawking through the flippety flappety floppety tinkelly rippelly leafety raggedy quackety flip flop weathers.

The branches of the trees among the falling leaves are sighing, sighing, sighing.

And the waving of the ragged twirly trees

like a pillowful of feathers falling, falling,

flapping in the weathers;

The flipping flapping weathers; flipping flapping weathers; flipping flapping weathers;

Flapping in the quackely squackely flip-flap flup-flop weathers.