Another Billy Bragg one...
Technically this is an illegal strike
Never cross a picket line
But technically workers have no rights
Never cross a picket line
You must never cross a picket line
Tom McRae:
"If words could kill I'd spell out your name"
We're not arrogant, we're just better.
Another Billy Bragg one...
Technically this is an illegal strike
Never cross a picket line
But technically workers have no rights
Never cross a picket line
You must never cross a picket line
If you attack me with stupidity, I'll be forced to defend myself with sarcasm.
More Half Man Half Biscuit
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A DUKLA PRAGUE AWAY KIT
There was one of the gang who had Scalextric
And because of that ;
He thought he was better than you,
And the day after school,
You'd go around there to play him,
Hoping to compete for some kind of championship,
And it always took about 15 billion hours to set the track up.
And even when you did, the thing never seemed to work.
It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
It was a dodgy transformer, again and again.
It was a dodgy blue mass, again and again.
A dodgy transformer, cost 3 pounds 10.
So he sent his doting mother
Up the stairs with the stepladders,
To get the Subbuteo
Out of the loft.
It had all the accessories
Required for that big-match atmosphere.
The crowd and the dugout,
And the floodlights, too.
And you'd always get palmed off
With a headless center-forward,
And a goal-kicker with no arms,
And a face like his.
And he'd managed to get hold of
A Dukla-Prague Away Kit,
His uncle owned a sport shop
And he'd kept it to one side.
And after only five minutes
You'd be down to ten men,
And then he sent off your right back
For taking the base from under his left-winger.
Come to half-time, you were losing, four-nil.
Each and every goal, a hotly disputed penalty.
So you smash up the floodlights
And the game was abandoned,
And the dog would bark
And you'd be banned from his house.
And your travelling army
Of synthetic supporters
Would be taken away from you
And thrown in the bin.
And now he's working
In a job with a future.
He hands me my Giro (as in gyroscope, not "hero")
Every two weeks.
And me, I'm on the lookout
For a proper transformer.
Ugh?!
THE BEST THINGS IN LIFE
My Uncle Charlie is a cynical man
And his wife's a touch sceptical, too.
They've got one of those stickers
In the back of their van; it says:
We've seen the prices at the zoo.
Well today I knocked upon their door
And said that I was passing,
And Charlie launched a scathing attack.
When I asked him what I'd done, he said
"You stupid b*st***! We live in a cul-de-sac!"
Went to Dali's party; it was fancy dress.
I just stuck an apple in my face.
I saw a chap who obviously was out to impress,
Reckoned he'd beat Gagarin into space.
He said "Hi there Sals
Like I'm sorry I'm late!
But I was getting done up
As a Mogul Thrash acetate!"
Me, I got bored
So I went home,
Got into bed,
And came to the conclusion...
There is nothing better in life
Than writing on the sole of your slipper with a Biro
There is nothing better in life
Than writing on the sole of your slipper with a Biro
There is nothing better in life
Than writing on the sole of your slipper with a Biro
There is nothing better in life
Than writing on the sole of your slipper with a Biro
On a Saturday Night instead of going to a pub.
DICKIE DAVIES EYESOriginally Posted by Lionel Ritchie
Mention the Lord of the Rings just once more
And I'll more than likely kill you.
"Moorcock, Moorcock, Michael Moorcock" you fervently moan.
Is this a wok that you shoved down my throat,
Or are you just pleased to see me?
Brian Moore's head looks uncannily like London Planetarium.
Chorus:
And all those people
Who you, romantically,
Like to still believe are alive,
Are dead!
So I'll wipe my snots
On the arm of your chair
As you put another Roger Dean poster
On the wall.
God, I could murder a Cadbury's Flake!
Then I guess you wouldn't let me into heaven.
Or maybe you would cause their adverts promote oral sex!
A Romany bint in a field with her paints,
Suggesting we faint at her beauty,
But she's got "Dickie Davis Eyes!"
Chorus x 2
THE B*ST**D SON OF DEAN FRIEDMAN
Well I heard a lovely rumor,
That Bette Midler had a tumor,
So gleefully I went to tell my friends.
But they said it was a lie,
That she wasn't going to die,
"And by the way, have we got news for you!"
And they told me that the man
That I had always billed as "Dad",
Hadn't met my "Mum" when I was born.
And they reckon that I am,
But I hope to God I'm not,
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman,
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman.
And my school-work fell behind
With this bombshell on my mind.
Me art teacher said he understood.
But he could only sympathise
With the sadness in my eyes,
Even though he'd shown me his Magritte!
And in the "Corridors of Fear"
I would shed a lovely tear,
As ridicule flew at me from both sides.
And they mocked me in my mocks,
And embroidered in my socks,
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman,
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman.
Supercalifragilistic,Borussia Moenchengladbach
And you can thank your lucky stars that you're not
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman,
The b*st**d son of Dean Friedman
Last edited by CollegeTillIDie; 02/12/2004 at 11:42 PM.
PABLO PICASSO.... recorded in 1973 by Jonathan Richman & The Modern Lovers also covered by John Cale and most recently by David Bowie who added some lyrics and took some out. This is the original version.
Words and music: jonathan richman
Well some people try to pick up girls
And get called Ass****s
This never happened to pablo picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and
So pablo picasso was never called an Ass****
Well the girls would turn the color
Of the avacado when he would drive
Down their street in his el dorado
He could walk down you street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo picasso never got called an Ass****
Not like you
Alright
Well he was only 5’3"
But girls could not resist his stare
Pablo picasso never got called an Ass****
Not in new york
Oh well be not schmuck be not abnoxious
Be not bellbottom bummer or Ass****
Remember the story of pablo picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare
Pablo picasso was never called an ass****
Alright this is it
Some people try to pick up girls
And they get called an ass****
This never happened to pablo picasso
He could walk down your street
And girls could not resist his stare and so
Pablo Picasso was never called.........
Very educational don't you think?![]()
I WAS A TEENAGE ARMCHAIR HONVED FAN by Half Man Half Biscuit
Woke up this morning and found myself in bed.
My knowledge of the blues is somewhat nil.
I dreamt about about a love-affair
In far-off Budapest.
The sort of thing that sugars every pill.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I went dans la cuisine, in a bi-linguistic mood.
And Morphy Richards popped up with the goods.
I was feeling 'Hungary' both this morning and last night,
with an appetite like that you see the woods.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
Is this the bit where we're supposed to make guitars collide, and
Is this the bit where we release all that raw energy, and
Is this the bit where we go crashing through those barriers,
Like wot they do in music mags?!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair wham bam thank you.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair wooo oooh ooh.
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
I was a teenage armchair Honved fan!
Reasons To Be Miserable Part 10
Half Man Half Biscuit
(Back In The D.h.s.s.)
A fairly attractive girl walks past a building site,
And from underneath an industrial safety helmet you hear:
(wolf-whistle) Ta Neil (thanking Neil)
And you stand there
Witnessing the whole Neanderthal situation
Wanting to twist your own brain out
As they sit there on their newly build wall
Laughing their hods off.
Chorus:
Reasons to be miserable,
Another good excuse to be dead.
It's one more thing to gripe about
As I while away my time in bed.
And then there's the person who collects all things "Pierrot",
And loves Siamese cats,
And thinks they're sophisticated because they eat Fries' Chocolate Cream,
And who'd do anything to spend the night
With a fellow off the Turkish Delights advert,
Who is full of instant mono-sodium glutamate,
And they always have a portrait of a sad clown on the wall,
And who go to charity shops,
And tend to become slightly orgasmic
At the thought of vampire lust.
"Cringe!"
Chorus x 2
And I don't know anyone who puts peaches on their cornflakes, either!
![]()
Last edited by CollegeTillIDie; 02/12/2004 at 8:06 PM.
Because I'm a big girl underneath my scruffy appearance:
'We wake up in the breakdown of the things we never thought we could be' - 'Here Is Gone', Goo Goo Dolls
I only wanted to be 16 and free' - Blind Melon (forget the song title)![]()
'I loved you, and I should have said it but tell me just what has it ever meant' - 'Kill', Jimmy Eat World
'Your ass like Jesus' feet, worth kissing' - 'A moment of clarity', Therapy?
The ball is round and has many surprises.
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