Baptized Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Gottlieb) Mozart
That fourth name variously translated to:
On names (slide four)
All-in-all, prefer Amadè
Close friends and family can call me “Wolfers”
YOU can lick my arse!
‘Till it’s clean!
Papa was a pimp (slide two)
And I was the boy mawke, as they say in London.
A famous pianist, as you know.
Pianist, pianist, pianist!
Papa was a pimp (slide three)
And my sister Nannerl, she was a bunter too.
A prodigious player of pianii.
Johann Christian Bach (slide four)
shown me how to put a lovely surface texture on piano sonata in B-flat
plus it sounds good with dramatic farts!
Constanze (slide twelve)
Light of my life
Puts up with long nights, expense of candles
Did I mention her cunny?
Prague (slide two)
My Praguers understand me.
They liked Don Giovani.
And my pizzle-fizzle!
Composing (slide six)
And a place to shit!
Death (slide two)
Would have lived longer without all the bleeding.
Oh, and the piss!
Alltop is marginally more foul-mouthed. Inspired by Mozart’s 255th birthday (yesterday). Originally published in January, 2006. Brought to you by The Amadeus Net, which features our caca-mouthed composer .
And is he wearing one of those rainbow clown wigs?
One of the premises of my first novel is that Mozart is alive and well. (And living in the future, where clown wigs, political posturing, and human stupidity have been eradicated.)
In the book, Mozart spends a lot of his time playing jazz piano, considering sex-change operations, and falling in love with lesbian nurses, but how does he support these diverting hobbies? By selling “lost” Mozart manuscripts through auctioneers such as Sotheby’s.
Kinda like the one they sold yesterday:
A leaf in Mozart’s hand with cadenzas written for the Sinfonia Concertante in E flat, one of his first masterpieces, sold Tuesday for £110,900 ($230,550) at auction in London.