Fifty years have come and gone,
East Fife boys keep singing songs.
Through every decade, every year,
Singing well, through joy and tears.

Happy times, most of the way,
Practising hard, every single day.
Concerts a plenty, applause by the bucket,
Never once did we say, stop it!

John Morrison was the first MD,
Building the choir, like growing a tree.
Then along came Jim, with a different tack,
Cracking the whip and things like that.

We love him really, he's awfully nice,
A gentle soul, with a heart of ice.
A steely eye, just made for action,
To pierce your heart for not paying attention.

Every entry is right or wrong,
Nothing else will do the song.
You do it well or Jim will bite,
Ooh, he gives us all such a fright.

Musical talent, our accompanists floor ya,
We've had some peaches, like Barbara and Rhona.
Now Margo's our girl on the ivory keys,
Who wows us each time with her dexterity.

Foreign trips, we've had a few,
Germany, Italy and England too.
We've sung in Churches, Cathedrals and halls,
And always had such a ball.

The people were friendly, the hotels were fine,
The food was delicious, the singing divine.
We went down a bomb, applauded as stars,
No, wait a minute, more like aliens from Mars.

Our repertoire's varied, from Grieg to Lloyd-Webber,
From the Beatles to Verdi, we'll sing, ah whatever.
Richard James arrangements are also not bad,
Though rumours are rife that he's really quite mad.

We boys are all friendly, a nice bunch to know,
And on most of our trips, we let our wives go.
They're handy for bringing some good common sense,
And boosting the numbers in our audience.

Our groupies are wonderful, fantastic and great,
They're always on time, and never come late.
They dress up divinely, to match with the guys,
Who're reminded by Bill, zip up your flies.

Our choir is so lucky, with some money to spare,
Due to our sponsor, year after year.
A man who has money, all heaped up in piles,
From selling, you guessed it, lots of nice tiles.

We sing for our supper, then ladies who bake,
Treat us to a feast, with sandwich and cake.
The baking is super and goes down a treat,
Best end to a concert, plus getting a seat.

Just what does this choir mean to us all,
Each time we're together, we just have a ball?
EFMVC means such a lot,
To us we are simply, the pick of the crop.

E everlasting
F friends forever,
M we are mates, happy together.
V virtuoso, at least as a target,
C it's our choir, we simply just love it.