Deep Throat

Linked to Poetry Pantry#49, at Poets United.  Thanks to Robert Lloyd for providing the opportunity.

Your mission today, should you choose to accept it, is to guess which well-known tune(*) the following could be sung to -

VERSE

My contrabassoon is too tall for the shelf
so she stands by my chair on the floor.
She is almost as tall as her owner himself
but she weighs not a pennyweight more.
She is made out of teak,
and once or twice each week
when I'm seized by euterpian urge -
I will blow, huff, fill her insides with puff -
make her music surge.


(Euterpe . . the Muse for music)

CHORUS

Sarabandes without fumbling,
Puff, pant! Puff, pant!
with sonorous rumbling
Puff, pant! Puff pant!
Feeling  like  death,
totally out of breath
when the dirge subsides.

VERSE

My contrabassoon is a fine piece of kit
though she looks like she's blown upside down.
When melodies flow from that round shiny bit
her moaning awakens the town.
She's all shiny and curved
and it's really absurd
to diminish her role any more.
Keep her end pegged firmly between your legs
and address the score.

repeat CHORUS

VERSE

The sound that she makes comes from down in the dumps
where the tubas and celloes hang out.
When she mournfully quavers and grumbles and grunts
the basses are left in no doubt
that though they're pretty deep
she'll get down underneath
any ditty that twangs from their strings.
Feel your toes curl, give all her knobs a twirl
so her foghorn sings!

repeat CHORUS

(*) "My Grandfather's Clock" rendered by the late, great Johnny Cash.