The Week That Music Died!

 
Fuck alexandra and your version of hallelujah,
All i want to do is stand up and boo ya,
And as for leonna lewis and her cover of run,
Why dont you just fuck off, run away, and become a nun?

Whats happening with music in the world today?
Its enough to make you want to get down and pray.
And Terry Wogans in the top 5, singing about little drummer runts,
The charts are offically polluted with cunts!

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A Classically Trained Actor!

heres a wee oldie, but goldie.  Based on true events and a person who needs no introduction around here.

 

A CLASSICALLY TRAINED ACTOR

Here is the tale of a classically trained actor,
Who’s talents wouldn’t be out of place on the x-factor,
He’s efficient at photography, acting and mincing,
And out of the three, the last one’s most convincing.

He helps the bands set up on a friday night,
When he’s not doing this he’s usually spouting some shite,
About all the ideas he has in his head,
Well he should have plenty, it’s as big as a shed.

He majors in drama, in case you didn’t know,
And he loves nothing better than putting on a show,
‘Rocky Horror’, ‘Moulin Rouge’ and the rest are all fine,
But his greatest achievement will be his very own pantomime.

‘How you doin’?’ is his catchphrase, like joey from FRIENDS,
And his choice of shirts usually often offends,
He’s one with the ladies, offering lollipops cheap,
While the DJ spins a tune in his honour – Radiodheads ‘CREEP’.

His acting is ropey and DJing quite shitty,
But even he couldn’t fail an audition for RIVER CITY,
He often complains I don’t play his requests,
But when you ask for KID ROCK, what the hell do you expect.

When it comes to the camera, It’s never far away,
Pictures of bands and people drunk, he just loves to display,
Whether its MARK with a hoover or myself dressed in drag,
Thank yourself lucky Colin, he never got your bawbag.

Well thats a little insight to our talented friend,
But talking with him too much will drive you round the bend,
Better in small doses, or with a pinch of salt,
Add tequila and lime, and the pain must surely halt.

‘It’s good to talk’ said BOB HOSKINS for B.T.,
But not when the talkings directed at me,
Time for the cash desk and give us a break,
Away and annoy some other fucker for Christs sake.

It’s the end of the night, and talk turns to a party,
‘Is he coming along?’, ‘Oh! really, does he have to?’,
As long as he stays in the kitchen all night,
Because the last time he came through, you know what happened?
………………….THAT’S RIGHT!

THE END.

Lunacy In The Sky With Diamonds

Lunatics form an orderly queue,
don’t worry at the back, im sure i’ll get to you,
Im a magnet for insanity, no need to complain,
im like a walking advert for the mentally insane.

Jack Nicholson would fly over my cuckoos nest,
and i’d probably still lose at marbles if i had any left,
each day is a crazy, mental, mixed up mess,
does lunacy never ever seem to take a rest?

Published in: on September 29, 2008 at 11:24 pm  Leave a Comment