Uncle Vyig

This song is well known in Temeschwar, the Varushkan city that joined the League. It’s about organised crime, which was once endemic there, and was referred to obliquely as “Uncle Vyig” (“Uncle Vyig had his hands in my pockets”, etc). The song is about how crime takes a cut of everything. It is supposed to be a fun song about terrible things.

Words by Chris Edwards.

When Uncle Vyig comes to dinner (this bit sung fairly slow and deep before each verse)

He takes a bite from every onion Puts his spoon right in your soup And all the butter that he eats Could fill a mining scoop

When Uncle Vyig comes to dinner

He goes through all your clothing And borrows just one boot He helps himself to gloves and hats And the socks right off your foot

When Uncle Vyig comes to dinner

He sits right by the fire And leaves you all to freeze His bones are scrawny, thin and cold But he shares with you his sneeze (ATCHOO!)