Songs in Gravity's Rainbow

Pynchon loves to embed song lyrics into the text of his stories. For him the writing process does not involve only the traditional dialogue and description, but song lyrics to flavor the story too. Though present in nearly all of Pynchon's novels, more attention has been paid to the songs in Gravity's Rainbow over any other (probably as a mere consequence of the book's overwhelming clout). On this topic reference must be made to the collaborative band, The Thomas Pynchon Fake Book, who have composed and performed music to many of the songs written for GR.

Below are listed the songs that Pynchon writes for GR, organized by the order in which they appear.

Part 1 Beyond the Zero

P. 9

Time to gather your arse up off the floor,
          (have a bana-na)
Brush your teeth and go toddling off to war,
Wave your hand to sleepy land,
Kiss those dreams away,
Tell Miss Grable you're not able,
Not till V-E Day, oh,
Ev'rything'll be grand in Civvie Street
          (have a ban-ana)
Bubbly wine and girls wiv lips so sweet--
But there's still the German or two to fight,
So show us a smile that's shiny bright,
And then, as we may have suggested once before--
Gather yer blooming arse up off the floor!

P. 12

It's...
Colder than the nipple on a with's tit!
Colder than a bucket of penguin shit!
Colder than the hairs of a polar bear's ass!
Colder than the frost on a champagne glass!

P. 12-3

Yes--I'm--the--
Fellow that's having other peop-le's fantasies,
Suffering what they ought to be themselves--
No matter if Girly's on my knee--
If Kruppingham-Jones is late to tea,
I don't even get to ask for whom the bell's...
It never does seem to matter if there's daaaanger,
For Danger's a roof I fell from long ago--
I'll be out-one-day and never come back,
Forget the bitter you owe me, Jack,
Just piss on m' grave and car-ry on the show!

P. 15

Nobody knows-where, it is-on-the-map,
Who'd ever think-it, could start-such-a-flap?
Each Montenegran, and Serbian too,
Waitin' for some-thing, right outa the blue--oh honey
Pack up my Glad-stone, 'n' brush off my suit,
And then light me up my big fat, cigar--
If ya want my address, it's
That O-ri-ent Express,
To the san-jak of No-vi Pa-zar!

P. 63

Got a hardon in my fist,
Don't be pissed,
Re-enlist--
Snap--to, Slothrop!

Jackson, I don't give a fuck,
Just give me my "ruptured duck!"
Snap--to, Slothrop!

No one here can love or comprehend me,
They just look for someplace else to send...me...

Tap my head and mike my brain,
Stick that needle in my vein,
Slothrop, snap to!

P. 63

Rhy-thm's got me,
Oh baby dat swing, swing, swing!
Yeah de rhythm got me
Just a-thinkin' that whole-wide-world-can-sing,
Well I never ever heard-it, sound-so-sweet,
Even down around the corner-on, Ba-sin Street,
As now dat de rhythm's got me, chillun let's
Swing, swing, swing,
Come on...chillun, let's...swing!

P. 69

              RED RIVER VALLEY
Down this toilet they say you are flushin'--
Won'tchew light up and set fer a spell?
Cause the toilet it ain't going nowhar,
And the shit hereabouts shore is swell.

P. 70

One little hustler in San Berdoo,
One little chink run away from the railroad
With his ass just as yellow as Fu Manchu!
One with the clap and one with a goiter,
One with the terminal lepro-see,
Cripple on the right foot, cripple on the left foot,
Crippled up both feet 'n' that makes three!
Well one little fairy, even one bull dyke,
One little nigger, one little kike,
One Red Indian with one buffalo,
And a buffalo hunter from New Mexico...

P. 110

ic heb u liever dan ên everswîn,
al waert van finen goude ghewracht,

P. 131

In dulci jubilo
Nun singet und seid froh!
Unsers Herzens Wonne
Leit in praesipio,
Leuchtet vor die Sonne
Matris in gremio.
Alpha es et O.

P. 166

Knallt ab den Juden Rathenau,
Die gottverdammte Judensau...

P. 177-8

Oh, don't let it get you,
It will if they let you, but there's
Something I'll bet you can't see--
It's big and it's nasty and it's right over there,
It's waiting to get its sticky claws in your hair!
Oh, the greengrocer's wishing on a rainbow today,
And the dustman is tying his tie...
And it all goes along to the same jolly song,
With a peppermint face in the sky!

With a peppermint face in the sky-y,
And a withered old dream in your heart,
You'll get hit with a piece of the pie-ie,
With the pantomime ready to start!
Oh, the Tommy is sleeping in a snowbank tonight,
And the Jerries are learning to fly--
We can fly to the moon, we'll be higher than noon,
In our polythene home in the sky...

Pretty polythene home in the sky,
Pretty platinum pins in your hand--
Oh your mother's a big fat machine gun,
And your father's a dreary young man....
   (Whispered and staccato):
Oh, the, man-a-ger's suck-ing on a corn-cob, pipe,
And the bankers are, eat-ing their, wives,
All the world's in a daze, while the orchestra plays,
So turn your pockets and get your surprise--

Turn your pockets and get-your surpri-ise,
There was nobody there after all!
And the lamps up the stairway are dying,
It's the season just after the ball...
Oh the palm-trees whisper on the beach somewhere,
And the lifesaver's heaving a sigh,
And those voices you hear, Boy and Girl of the Year,
Are of children who are learning to die...

P. 180

Hark, the herald angels sing:
Mrs. Simpson's pinched our King...

Part 2 Un Perm' au Casino Hermann Goering

P. 184-5

         THE ENGLISHMAN'S VERY SHY (Fox-trot)
(Bloat):      The Englishman's very shy,
              He's none of your Ca-sa-no-va,
              At bowling the ladies o-ver,
              A-mericans lead the pack--

(Tantivy):   --You see, your Englishman tends to lack
              That recklessness transatlantic,
              That women find so romantic
              Though frankly I can't see why...

 (Bloat):      The polygamous Yank with his girls galore
               Give your Brit-ish rake or carouser fits,

(Tantivy):    Though he's secretly held in re-ve-rent awe
                As a sort of e-rot-ic Clausewitz....

(Together): If only one could al-ly
                A-merican bedroom know-how
                With British good looks, then oh how
                Those lovelies would swoon and sigh,
                THough you and I know the Englishman's very shy.

P. 193-4

         THE BALLAD OF TANTIVY MUCKER-MAFFICK
Oh Italian gin is a mother's curse,
And the beer of France is septic,
Drinking Bourbon in Spain is the lonely domain
Of the saint and the epileptic.
White lightning has fueled up many a hearse
In the mountains where ridge-runners dwell--
It's a brew begot in a poison pot,
And mulled with the hammers of Hell!

(Refrain): Oh--Tantivy's been drunk in many a place,
From here to the Uttermost Isle,
And if he should refuse any chance at the booze,
May I die with an hoary-eyed smile!

He's been ossified in oceans of grog,
In the haunts of the wobbly whale--
He's been half-seas over from Durban to Dover,
Wiv four shaky sheets to the gale.
For in London fog or Sahara's sun,
Or the icebound steeps of Zermatt,
Loaded up for a lark to 'is Plimsoll mark
He's been game to go off on a bat!

Yes, Tantivy's been drunk in many a place...&c.

P. 198

         TOO SOON TO KNOW (Fox-trot)