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please note: this blog is now history. for my current blog please go to geoff's dreams (see links).
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Tonight we all thank Bono's God
It's them instead of me,
And kiss the ground that Bono trod
With deep humility.
It's them instead of me,
And kiss the ground that Bono trod
With deep humility.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Stretched out on his bateau mouche,
Jarvis Cocker talks so pouche.
Since he's moved to France, you see,
His Sheffield accent's gone oui oui.
Jarvis Cocker talks so pouche.
Since he's moved to France, you see,
His Sheffield accent's gone oui oui.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
'I'd vote for Robbie Williams.'
'I'd vote for Fatboy Slim.'
'I'd vote for David Bowie 'cos
My grandad looks like him.'
'I'd vote for the Eurythmics.'
'I'd vote for Fun Boy Three.'
'I'd vote for Culture Club and have
Boy George round for tea.'
'I'd vote for Red Hot Chilli
Peppers 'cos they rock.'
'I'd vote for Beyonce 'cos
She falls out of her frock.'
'I'd vote for Eminem.'
'I'd vote for Gary Glitter.
If he's good enough for Bush
He can be my babysitter.'
'I'd vote for Fatboy Slim.'
'I'd vote for David Bowie 'cos
My grandad looks like him.'
'I'd vote for the Eurythmics.'
'I'd vote for Fun Boy Three.'
'I'd vote for Culture Club and have
Boy George round for tea.'
'I'd vote for Red Hot Chilli
Peppers 'cos they rock.'
'I'd vote for Beyonce 'cos
She falls out of her frock.'
'I'd vote for Eminem.'
'I'd vote for Gary Glitter.
If he's good enough for Bush
He can be my babysitter.'
Stretched out on my easy chair,
Listening hard to 'Save a Prayer',
I close my eyes and think 'le bon',
The good die young and then they're gone.
Jim and Jimi, Otis, Marc,
Ian, Janis, in the dark.
Now they're dead they make more money,
And that's not very bloody funny.
The good die young, that's the laugh
And what we're left with is the chaff.
Listening hard to 'Save a Prayer',
I close my eyes and think 'le bon',
The good die young and then they're gone.
Jim and Jimi, Otis, Marc,
Ian, Janis, in the dark.
Now they're dead they make more money,
And that's not very bloody funny.
The good die young, that's the laugh
And what we're left with is the chaff.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
So Busted are Tories
But don't call them baddies,
They're just paying back
Their mummies and daddies.
They're proud of their roots
And those roots run deep,
Back to the eighties
When nannies were cheap.
But don't call them baddies,
They're just paying back
Their mummies and daddies.
They're proud of their roots
And those roots run deep,
Back to the eighties
When nannies were cheap.
Bryan Ferry, working class
Married into posh,
Became a squire (silly arse)
Now talks a load of tosh.
Bryan Ferry and his heir,
A pair of fighting cocks,
Bravely take on Tony Blair
For the right to kill a fox.
Married into posh,
Became a squire (silly arse)
Now talks a load of tosh.
Bryan Ferry and his heir,
A pair of fighting cocks,
Bravely take on Tony Blair
For the right to kill a fox.
So, 'well-read' Madonna
Is to do an English degree.
A correspondence course, of course.
Oxford University.
How will she find the time?
A job, two kids and hubby,
And four hours each day in the gym
To stop her getting tubby.
Maybe she'll relax,
Maybe put on some pounds,
Maybe take a hiatus
From apeing hip young sounds,
Grow old with some grace,
Find some nice new friends,
Not the likes of Vinny Jones
With language that offends.
Elton may be right,
Her miming may be galling.
But better mute and erudite
Than godawful caterwauling.
Is to do an English degree.
A correspondence course, of course.
Oxford University.
How will she find the time?
A job, two kids and hubby,
And four hours each day in the gym
To stop her getting tubby.
Maybe she'll relax,
Maybe put on some pounds,
Maybe take a hiatus
From apeing hip young sounds,
Grow old with some grace,
Find some nice new friends,
Not the likes of Vinny Jones
With language that offends.
Elton may be right,
Her miming may be galling.
But better mute and erudite
Than godawful caterwauling.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Jamie Cullum wins a MOBO!
I'd give the twat a fucking ASBO!
Twenty something baby face!
As black as fucking Black Lace!
I'd give the twat a fucking ASBO!
Twenty something baby face!
As black as fucking Black Lace!
Tom Jones and Jools,
Jools and Tom Jones:
A couple of ghouls
With more meat than bones.
One sweaty old man
Who's lost what he had,
One middle-aged fan:
Can't get much more sad.
Jools and Tom Jones:
A couple of ghouls
With more meat than bones.
One sweaty old man
Who's lost what he had,
One middle-aged fan:
Can't get much more sad.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
'Can the Can'; 'Tiger Feet',
K-Tel albums were really neat.
So grow your sideburns, get some flares,
And bring those records down the stairs.
K-Tel albums were really neat.
So grow your sideburns, get some flares,
And bring those records down the stairs.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
Young Joss Stone, 'queen of white soul',
To these ears old and rusty;
Her intonations, on the whole,
Seem more 'Alf' than 'Dusty'.
To these ears old and rusty;
Her intonations, on the whole,
Seem more 'Alf' than 'Dusty'.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
It's easier to thread your eye through the needle of a camel
Than to sit down and listen to Peter Hammill.
Than to sit down and listen to Peter Hammill.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Nowadays, there's no respect for the dead.
At funerals they play
Robbie Williams' 'Angels' instead.
At funerals they play
Robbie Williams' 'Angels' instead.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
If Madonna
Had a cow,
What would she
Be doing now?
Would she adore
Her every breath?
Or would she milk
The girl to death?
Had a cow,
What would she
Be doing now?
Would she adore
Her every breath?
Or would she milk
The girl to death?
If Robert Smith
Had a plough,
What would he
Be doing now?
Would he plough
The whole field through?
Or just furrow
By his shoe?
Had a plough,
What would he
Be doing now?
Would he plough
The whole field through?
Or just furrow
By his shoe?
Sunday, August 15, 2004
I think it's time to face the facts,
We're too old for Basement Jaxx,
But too young for Singalongamax.
Who are we?
We're Basement Jaxx.
We're too old for Basement Jaxx,
But too young for Singalongamax.
Who are we?
We're Basement Jaxx.
I promise to pay the bearer
(Ms Christina Aguilera),
An undisclosed sum
To put away her bum,
To hold her saucy tongue,
And all the songs she's sung.
Become an actress, dear,
Then you can have no fear.
I will not get annoyed
By films I can avoid.
(Ms Christina Aguilera),
An undisclosed sum
To put away her bum,
To hold her saucy tongue,
And all the songs she's sung.
Become an actress, dear,
Then you can have no fear.
I will not get annoyed
By films I can avoid.
Sunday, August 08, 2004
In the book of common prayer
You won't find any pubic hair,
Unless Cliff Richard put it there,
'Cos of a devil woman's dare.
You won't find any pubic hair,
Unless Cliff Richard put it there,
'Cos of a devil woman's dare.
There've been no sightings
Of Elvis lately,
Nor have there been
Of Stephen Gateley.
But wait! Look yonder!
He's living on stage here,
In 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang';
It's all the rage, dear.
Of Elvis lately,
Nor have there been
Of Stephen Gateley.
But wait! Look yonder!
He's living on stage here,
In 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang';
It's all the rage, dear.
Sunday, August 01, 2004
The Coldplay, Keane,
Starsailor scene
Gives my bones a chill.
Their plodding, grinding,
Tuneless whining
Made me write my will.
'To all three I
Bequeath my ties,
To hang themselves in turn.'
My alcoholic
Daddy's sick
With terrible heartburn.
Do I moan?
Am I prone
To get on stage and sob?
Just hang yourselves,
Or fit some shelves.
Get a proper job!
Starsailor scene
Gives my bones a chill.
Their plodding, grinding,
Tuneless whining
Made me write my will.
'To all three I
Bequeath my ties,
To hang themselves in turn.'
My alcoholic
Daddy's sick
With terrible heartburn.
Do I moan?
Am I prone
To get on stage and sob?
Just hang yourselves,
Or fit some shelves.
Get a proper job!
It's hard to make the move
From making children groove
To being sexy news,
As Rachel Stevens proves.
But Peter Duncan knows
That to smell like a new rose,
You first take off your clothes,
Then keep a cleaner nose.
From making children groove
To being sexy news,
As Rachel Stevens proves.
But Peter Duncan knows
That to smell like a new rose,
You first take off your clothes,
Then keep a cleaner nose.
Jools Holland says he's Ray Charles' BIGGEST fan.
He's received enormous pleasure from the man.
Now Ray is not around and sings no more,
Can Jools please piss off back to Channel Four.
At least then I can pay my licence fee,
And not partly fund his bloody Hootenanny.
And his tedious middle-aged big band,
Which makes any singer sound plain bland.
He's received enormous pleasure from the man.
Now Ray is not around and sings no more,
Can Jools please piss off back to Channel Four.
At least then I can pay my licence fee,
And not partly fund his bloody Hootenanny.
And his tedious middle-aged big band,
Which makes any singer sound plain bland.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Come to my barbie,
Come join the fun.
We've got more than enough
And the forecast says sun.
We'll grill meat so lean,
It's good for our hearts.
We'll play karaoke,
And get pissed as farts.
Deano's friend, Danny
Thinks he's Vinny Jones.
He'll sing 'Woolly Bully'
With gutterall moans.
And Jan's husband, Tony,
He loves 'I'm your Man.'
A spit for Shane Richie
With an all over tan.
Then there's big Graham,
Who may not be pally,
But like The Commitments
Does a great 'Mustang Sally.'
Lastly there's me,
I've got my own style.
Me heart's on my sleeve,
Like Gallagher and Lyle.
No, don't take the piss,
I've got a good voice!
Well don't come, you bastards,
You've all got a choice.
Come join the fun.
We've got more than enough
And the forecast says sun.
We'll grill meat so lean,
It's good for our hearts.
We'll play karaoke,
And get pissed as farts.
Deano's friend, Danny
Thinks he's Vinny Jones.
He'll sing 'Woolly Bully'
With gutterall moans.
And Jan's husband, Tony,
He loves 'I'm your Man.'
A spit for Shane Richie
With an all over tan.
Then there's big Graham,
Who may not be pally,
But like The Commitments
Does a great 'Mustang Sally.'
Lastly there's me,
I've got my own style.
Me heart's on my sleeve,
Like Gallagher and Lyle.
No, don't take the piss,
I've got a good voice!
Well don't come, you bastards,
You've all got a choice.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
The Bedingfield siblings,
Sister and brother,
Have the same mother,
Look like each other,
If viewed through a gauze.
But why would you bother?
Just cover your lugs,
And ignore their mugs.
If you see these pugs,
Fast forward not pause.
Sister and brother,
Have the same mother,
Look like each other,
If viewed through a gauze.
But why would you bother?
Just cover your lugs,
And ignore their mugs.
If you see these pugs,
Fast forward not pause.
The Pixies reformed
Go down a storm,
But are sadly showing their age.
With all four comprised,
It's wiser than wise
To reinforce the stage.
Go down a storm,
But are sadly showing their age.
With all four comprised,
It's wiser than wise
To reinforce the stage.
Thirty year old Grant Sand,
And Lee, his younger brother,
Formed an Orbital tribute band,
A band unlike any other.
They shaved their balding heads,
And buffed them till they shone.
'Oh, here comes Right Said Fred,'
Said their cousin, John.
The brothers ignored the bait,
They listened from midnight till noon,
Writing down the rate
Of beats per minute per tune.
They would only leave their room
To eat, drink, or ablute.
Like two young owls cocooned,
They couldn't give a hoot..
About the outside world,
Michael Moore's new doc,
Which hostages are held,
Or Samantha Mumba's frock.
Like a warp in time
To 1989,
When Orbital's song 'Chime',
Like a vintage wine,
Was bottled for the kids,
For fifteen years to come.
And drunk at countless gigs
Like sailors pissed on rum.
Now brothers Grant and Lee
Are ready to play live.
The first gig will be free
At a shitty local dive.
So welcome, if you will,
On stage 'The Second Kin'.
Grant on glockenspiel,
Lee playing biscuit tin.
And Lee, his younger brother,
Formed an Orbital tribute band,
A band unlike any other.
They shaved their balding heads,
And buffed them till they shone.
'Oh, here comes Right Said Fred,'
Said their cousin, John.
The brothers ignored the bait,
They listened from midnight till noon,
Writing down the rate
Of beats per minute per tune.
They would only leave their room
To eat, drink, or ablute.
Like two young owls cocooned,
They couldn't give a hoot..
About the outside world,
Michael Moore's new doc,
Which hostages are held,
Or Samantha Mumba's frock.
Like a warp in time
To 1989,
When Orbital's song 'Chime',
Like a vintage wine,
Was bottled for the kids,
For fifteen years to come.
And drunk at countless gigs
Like sailors pissed on rum.
Now brothers Grant and Lee
Are ready to play live.
The first gig will be free
At a shitty local dive.
So welcome, if you will,
On stage 'The Second Kin'.
Grant on glockenspiel,
Lee playing biscuit tin.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Oh whoops and oh crumbs,
I'm all flipping thumbs,
When it comes to spinning the tunes.
The punters can't dance,
But they all wet their pants
When they hear Jamie Cullum's croons.
I'm all flipping thumbs,
When it comes to spinning the tunes.
The punters can't dance,
But they all wet their pants
When they hear Jamie Cullum's croons.
Some girls go giddy
Over P Diddy,
More girls get turned on by Usher.
I'd rather be gay,
And dream of Beyonce,
Or a young tennis player from Russia.
Over P Diddy,
More girls get turned on by Usher.
I'd rather be gay,
And dream of Beyonce,
Or a young tennis player from Russia.
Friday, July 09, 2004
Bowie's heart,
Will it hold?
He's surely not
That bloody old.
Come on, David,
Keep it beating.
Or swap with Ronan
Bloody Keating.
Will it hold?
He's surely not
That bloody old.
Come on, David,
Keep it beating.
Or swap with Ronan
Bloody Keating.
Sunday, July 04, 2004
'Did you go to Glastonbury?'
'I'd rather jump off the Woolwich Ferry.'
'But Glastonbury's really cool.'
'So's the Thames, you bloody fool!'
'I'd rather jump off the Woolwich Ferry.'
'But Glastonbury's really cool.'
'So's the Thames, you bloody fool!'
Glastonbury was great,
And I saw it all for free.
No mud or smelly toilets,
I saw it on tv.
Keane were really cool,
I love the singer's hair.
I'd love to run my naughty fingers
Through it for a dare.
Franz Ferdinand were ace,
Those art school boys are wild.
Those angular good looks!
I think I want their child!
Oasis were so moody,
Like wild dogs on the heath.
Liam's such an animal
When he bares his teeth.
But sexiest by far,
Not arch, aloof or sullen,
That boyish jazz purveyor,
The gorgeous Jamie Cullum.
And I saw it all for free.
No mud or smelly toilets,
I saw it on tv.
Keane were really cool,
I love the singer's hair.
I'd love to run my naughty fingers
Through it for a dare.
Franz Ferdinand were ace,
Those art school boys are wild.
Those angular good looks!
I think I want their child!
Oasis were so moody,
Like wild dogs on the heath.
Liam's such an animal
When he bares his teeth.
But sexiest by far,
Not arch, aloof or sullen,
That boyish jazz purveyor,
The gorgeous Jamie Cullum.
Sunday, June 27, 2004
ELO, ELP,
BTO, 10CC,
4AD, ZTT,
LFO, DLT.
BTO, 10CC,
4AD, ZTT,
LFO, DLT.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
McCartney's playing Glastonbury,
I've got my ticket here.
I'm sixty-four tomorrow,
But no-one calls me 'dear'.
I'm going with an old girl friend,
It's 'Yesterday' once more.
I bought a tent on Monday
From an Argos Extra store.
I've got my ticket here.
I'm sixty-four tomorrow,
But no-one calls me 'dear'.
I'm going with an old girl friend,
It's 'Yesterday' once more.
I bought a tent on Monday
From an Argos Extra store.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Rod Stewart likes blondes,
Frogs live in ponds,
If you kiss one you might get a prince.
If Rod acted his years,
He'd be dating old dears,
With twin-set and pearls and blue rinse.
Frogs live in ponds,
If you kiss one you might get a prince.
If Rod acted his years,
He'd be dating old dears,
With twin-set and pearls and blue rinse.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Three lions on our shirt,
St George's on our car,
Then tops off for the lads, though
Our man-tits need a bra.
St George's on our car,
Then tops off for the lads, though
Our man-tits need a bra.
Sunday, June 06, 2004
Can you guess what the words are?
It adds to all the fun.
Expletives now on 'Top of the Pops',
Entertain your daughter or son.
'What's that word mean, Daddy?
And why does she have to moan?'
'Buy the ####### single, child,
And leave me the #### alone!'
It adds to all the fun.
Expletives now on 'Top of the Pops',
Entertain your daughter or son.
'What's that word mean, Daddy?
And why does she have to moan?'
'Buy the ####### single, child,
And leave me the #### alone!'
Little Baby Spice,
Oh so very nice.
Blonde and smiley,too.
Everyone loves you.
Nasty Posh, the cow,
Should be a good hausfrau.
But if you will not smile,
We'll give you all our bile.
Oh so very nice.
Blonde and smiley,too.
Everyone loves you.
Nasty Posh, the cow,
Should be a good hausfrau.
But if you will not smile,
We'll give you all our bile.
Sunday, May 30, 2004
Elton John, the king of queens,
Sang a song for England's rose.
He also sang Blue 'eyes' not 'jeans',
Those were David Dundas' clothes.
Sang a song for England's rose.
He also sang Blue 'eyes' not 'jeans',
Those were David Dundas' clothes.
Sunday, May 23, 2004
You haven't got Fat Larry's 'Zoom',
To welcome both the bride and groom.
No jigging to 'Come on Eileen',
No dance to ABBA's 'Dancing Queen'.
No 'Hi Ho Silver Bloody Lining',
To drown out mardy toddlers' whining.
An uncle spitting vol au vents,
Says, 'Play some Jam, you effin' ponce!'
The best man asks for Colplay's 'Clocks',
You say 'Did you say Hanoi Rocks?'
Grandma demands Gareth Gates,
You tell the crone she'll have to wait.
No 'Sex Bomb' or Boney M?
You don't care, sod all of them.
'Westlife for my daughter, snide!'
Sneers the father of the bride.
You keep your calm, you keep your zen,
Keep playing what you want till then,
Grandad slurs 'New York, New York',
And stabs your forehead with a fork.
To welcome both the bride and groom.
No jigging to 'Come on Eileen',
No dance to ABBA's 'Dancing Queen'.
No 'Hi Ho Silver Bloody Lining',
To drown out mardy toddlers' whining.
An uncle spitting vol au vents,
Says, 'Play some Jam, you effin' ponce!'
The best man asks for Colplay's 'Clocks',
You say 'Did you say Hanoi Rocks?'
Grandma demands Gareth Gates,
You tell the crone she'll have to wait.
No 'Sex Bomb' or Boney M?
You don't care, sod all of them.
'Westlife for my daughter, snide!'
Sneers the father of the bride.
You keep your calm, you keep your zen,
Keep playing what you want till then,
Grandad slurs 'New York, New York',
And stabs your forehead with a fork.
Sunday, May 16, 2004
Did the Brotherhood of Man have groupies?
Did the moustachioed one always score?
Did they blaze a trail through all old Europe?
A knock at each hotel room door?
Did the thin, lanky one have young Helga?
Her mother and grandmother,too?
Was life on the road one long orgy?
Or did they save all their kisses for you?
Did the moustachioed one always score?
Did they blaze a trail through all old Europe?
A knock at each hotel room door?
Did the thin, lanky one have young Helga?
Her mother and grandmother,too?
Was life on the road one long orgy?
Or did they save all their kisses for you?
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Knocking at the pearly gates,
Margaret Thatcher stands and waits
For someone to let her in,
Someone to forgive her sins.
'Have you got two bob?' says Peter,
'We need someone to feed the meter.'
'Yes, I've brought some change,' says she.
'So, all in heaven isn't free.'
'Have you brought your tune?' he asks,
'To accompany your task.'
'Yes,' she says, 'I have 'Telstar',
My very favourite tune by far.'
So Margaret sits back in a cloud,
And listens to her music loud.
Although her arms are old and weak,
She fans the feet of dear Joe Meek.
Margaret Thatcher stands and waits
For someone to let her in,
Someone to forgive her sins.
'Have you got two bob?' says Peter,
'We need someone to feed the meter.'
'Yes, I've brought some change,' says she.
'So, all in heaven isn't free.'
'Have you brought your tune?' he asks,
'To accompany your task.'
'Yes,' she says, 'I have 'Telstar',
My very favourite tune by far.'
So Margaret sits back in a cloud,
And listens to her music loud.
Although her arms are old and weak,
She fans the feet of dear Joe Meek.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
Clearing out the loft today,
All this stuff we threw away.
An old Christmas tree with a tattered fairy,
Mum's singles by Peter, Paul and Mary.
Diaries full of self-pitying thoughts,
1950's school reports.
Grandad's pre-war pipe collection,
Cream for granny's scalp infection.
Rusty chains from children's bikes,
An autograph by Eric Sykes.
Pictures of women in panty-hose,
A dog-eared poster of Axl Rose.
All this stuff we threw away.
An old Christmas tree with a tattered fairy,
Mum's singles by Peter, Paul and Mary.
Diaries full of self-pitying thoughts,
1950's school reports.
Grandad's pre-war pipe collection,
Cream for granny's scalp infection.
Rusty chains from children's bikes,
An autograph by Eric Sykes.
Pictures of women in panty-hose,
A dog-eared poster of Axl Rose.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Will Young
Once sung
One song
Through tongue.
Once sung
One song
Through tongue.
Sunday, April 18, 2004
I had a dream that Morten Harket
Opened our local supermarket.
He wasn't singing 'Take on Me',
But barking 'Buy one, get one free!'
Opened our local supermarket.
He wasn't singing 'Take on Me',
But barking 'Buy one, get one free!'
You give your children a hand,
You say, 'listen to Franz Ferdinand'.
But no matter how hard you try,
They still go and buy McFly.
You say, 'listen to Franz Ferdinand'.
But no matter how hard you try,
They still go and buy McFly.
Sunday, April 11, 2004
I remember a woman,
A rock 'n' roll woman,
Dancing to heavy rock tunes.
A long-legged woman,
A whole lotta woman,
The only one in the room.
A rock 'n' roll woman,
Dancing to heavy rock tunes.
A long-legged woman,
A whole lotta woman,
The only one in the room.
Sunday, April 04, 2004
If Kylie and Danni Minogue
Had sang in a thick Aussie brogue,
And changed their names to Charlie and Dan,
And always stood up to piss in the pan,
And instead of showing their wee bums and breasts
On stage, paraded their big manly chests...
What a bloody awful waste
For gay/straight men with very bad taste.
Had sang in a thick Aussie brogue,
And changed their names to Charlie and Dan,
And always stood up to piss in the pan,
And instead of showing their wee bums and breasts
On stage, paraded their big manly chests...
What a bloody awful waste
For gay/straight men with very bad taste.
Don't despair
At Will Young's chin,
Ask him to stop
That awful din.
At Will Young's chin,
Ask him to stop
That awful din.
We've now seen most
Of Britney Spears,
But don't know what's
Between her ears.
Of Britney Spears,
But don't know what's
Between her ears.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
I drove Tina Turner,
Was a nice little earner,
And I didn't once mention Ike.
'Be my private dancer,'
I said and her answer
Was 'next time I'll get on me bike.'
Was a nice little earner,
And I didn't once mention Ike.
'Be my private dancer,'
I said and her answer
Was 'next time I'll get on me bike.'
Playing golf with Robbie Williams,
I hit a ball straight on the green.
Robbie though was in the rough.
Time for him to vent his spleen.
For who plays golf for relaxation?
Who plays for the exercise?
If I was rich I'd stay at home,
Drinking beer and eating pies.
I hit a ball straight on the green.
Robbie though was in the rough.
Time for him to vent his spleen.
For who plays golf for relaxation?
Who plays for the exercise?
If I was rich I'd stay at home,
Drinking beer and eating pies.
Sunday, March 21, 2004
When I'm old and infirm and unable to move,
I'll be in a home with a punk/indie groove.
There's an ex-comedian who drops his ash,
And witters on about The Clash,
Who he saw in seventy-seven,
And he's waiting to see again in heaven.
A vegan woman spitting out orange piths,
Who quotes all the words of all songs by The Smiths.
A Morrissey poster adorns her wall,
She's willing a coma to end it all.
There's a man who's treated with mock derision,
Because he never 'got' Joy Division.
He wheels himself up and down the hall,
And shouts at the staff to 'play more of The Fall'.
But the staff are friendly and play all our songs.
Nobody's left out, we all sing along.
But the carers get nervous at our shakes and tics,
To 'Pretty Vacant' and 'Teenage Kicks'.
I'll be in a home with a punk/indie groove.
There's an ex-comedian who drops his ash,
And witters on about The Clash,
Who he saw in seventy-seven,
And he's waiting to see again in heaven.
A vegan woman spitting out orange piths,
Who quotes all the words of all songs by The Smiths.
A Morrissey poster adorns her wall,
She's willing a coma to end it all.
There's a man who's treated with mock derision,
Because he never 'got' Joy Division.
He wheels himself up and down the hall,
And shouts at the staff to 'play more of The Fall'.
But the staff are friendly and play all our songs.
Nobody's left out, we all sing along.
But the carers get nervous at our shakes and tics,
To 'Pretty Vacant' and 'Teenage Kicks'.
Saturday, March 13, 2004
If ABBA were German,
And Benny was Herman,
And Bjorn was born Hans or Fritz.
Had no girls in the band,
And they sounded like Can,
Then they wouldn't have had any hits.
And Benny was Herman,
And Bjorn was born Hans or Fritz.
Had no girls in the band,
And they sounded like Can,
Then they wouldn't have had any hits.
Sunday, March 07, 2004
You'll never see Dido in a lido,
Or a giggling Sting on a swing,
Or Bono Vox with building blocks.
But Christ, can you hear them sing!
Or a giggling Sting on a swing,
Or Bono Vox with building blocks.
But Christ, can you hear them sing!
So Annie Lennox wins a gong
For a song I've never heard.
But you can bet this Annie's song
Is just another polished turd.
For a song I've never heard.
But you can bet this Annie's song
Is just another polished turd.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Oh Sharleen Spiteri...
Do you eat dairy?
Your complexion is four out of four.
Your smooth creamy skin
Is packing 'em in,
But your middle aged pop is a bore.
Do you eat dairy?
Your complexion is four out of four.
Your smooth creamy skin
Is packing 'em in,
But your middle aged pop is a bore.
When I was in my early teens
Paul Rodgers wore the tightest jeans.
The century turns, he's still alive,
And belting out his hernia jive.
Feel like making love, alright
Now and keep it up all night.
Well groomed, craggy, with less hair,
Most famous fan is Tony Blair.
The PM swallows sexual myths!
Maybe Gordon likes The Smiths?
Paul Rodgers wore the tightest jeans.
The century turns, he's still alive,
And belting out his hernia jive.
Feel like making love, alright
Now and keep it up all night.
Well groomed, craggy, with less hair,
Most famous fan is Tony Blair.
The PM swallows sexual myths!
Maybe Gordon likes The Smiths?
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Here comes Peter Andre's ego,
Pumping life in that flat chest.
Making sure wherever we go
We can't ignore this plastic pest.
His noxious song should rot alone
Like a corpse does in the dark.
It's time for us to have a moan
About Pop Idol's Sam and Mark.
Pumping life in that flat chest.
Making sure wherever we go
We can't ignore this plastic pest.
His noxious song should rot alone
Like a corpse does in the dark.
It's time for us to have a moan
About Pop Idol's Sam and Mark.
As we look on with eyes of wonder
At Justin Hawkins' Darkness' plunder.
Latest step on his rock career -
Best British album of the year?
A song about STD's
Brings an audience to it's knees.
His grating shrieks slice through the air -
His catsuit slips, there's pubic hair!
At the Brits he's raised aloft.
He's just some bloke from Lowestoft.
At Justin Hawkins' Darkness' plunder.
Latest step on his rock career -
Best British album of the year?
A song about STD's
Brings an audience to it's knees.
His grating shrieks slice through the air -
His catsuit slips, there's pubic hair!
At the Brits he's raised aloft.
He's just some bloke from Lowestoft.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
Gary Jules the one hit wonder
Stole Justin Hawkins' Darkness' thunder
By being Christmas Number One
Depressed the UK's festive fun.
Gary Jules with hat, no pipe,
Inflections quite like Michael Stipe,
Is responsible for Tears for Fears
Returning to assault my ears.
Stole Justin Hawkins' Darkness' thunder
By being Christmas Number One
Depressed the UK's festive fun.
Gary Jules with hat, no pipe,
Inflections quite like Michael Stipe,
Is responsible for Tears for Fears
Returning to assault my ears.
