I’ll Never Find Another Job, NewsRevue Lyric, 28 October 1994

This was one of my favourites at the time and it got a long run in NewsRevue.

Unemployment was high back then.

(To the Tune of “I’ll Never Find Another You”)


You remember The Seekers, you remember The New Seekers, now meet The Job Seekers!


There is new work some place,
But God alone knows where;
I might find work some day,
But I may have to share.
It is hurtful and demeaning,
When folk say I’m a slob;
Cos they know I’ll never find another job.


While the rich get richer,
The poor will get more poor;
Now the bastard SS,
Won’t pay us any more.
Still they’re filled with awe and wonder,
If poor folk beg and rob;
Cos they know they’ll never find another job.


It’s a long term problem,
So please be more kind;
We can’t all be rich like Michael Hestletine, Hestletine.


There’s this new scheme Workfare,
To further break our soul;
Cos the day it’s over,
We’re straight back on the dole.
So if I met Peter Lilley,
I’d punch him in the gob;
Cos he knows I’ll never find another job.


And if I could rule the country,
I’d sack that Tory mob;
And make sure they never find another job.

Here is The Seekers singing I’ll Never Find Another You with the lyrics on the screen:

I Don’t Want To Go To Haiti, NewsRevue Lyric, 24 October 1994

The log suggests this was written in September but perhaps not finalised/submitted until the above date.

This was all around Z/Yen start up time; I don’t recall if it was used or not…it blooming well should have been.

(To the Tune of “I Don’t Want To Go To Chelsea”)


Photographs of Haiti’s tricks,
Could be as daft as Bay of Pigs;
Bill Clinton smokes but don’t inhale,
He launches fleets but don’t set sail;
We shafted Vietnam and we fucked up the Somalis,
We don’t sit around and talk like your Boutros Boutros Ghalis,
But when we go off to fight we look like a bunch of Charlies;


Now Bill and Raoul are in cahoots and matey,
I don’t want to go to Haiti;
Oh no, it’s not strategic,
Don’t want to end up paraplegic;
I don’t want to occupy,
I don’t want my pals to die,
I don’t give a fuck for Haiti.


Photographs of Clinton’s daughter,
Her nose is bent as Shirley Porter,
She is so spoilt it’s a disgrace,
She wears her teeth in mum’s embrace;
She is a little flirt when she walks out with her waddle,
She’s a real daddies girl but he talks a load of twaddle,
So she can’t walk and fart without getting in a muddle;


They say she keeps fit but she looks so unhealthy,
I don’t want to go with Chelsea;
Oh no she won’t get tongue-kissed,
Until she’s seen her orthodontist;
I don’t want to meet her folks,
Those Clintons are a bunch of jokes,
I don’t want to go with Chelsea.

Even if you don’t like my lyric, here is Elvis singing I Don’t Want To Go To Chelsea with the lyrics on screen – worth the price of admission alone:

Sleaze Medley, NewsRevue Lyrics, 24 October 1994

A medley of lyrics about Tory sleaze that work well with early Beatles hit tunes.

I really like the first two lines. The rest isn’t too bad either.


(To Various Beatles Tunes)
(To the tune of “Please Please Me”)

Last night I said these words to Michael,
How much must I pay for a title?
A song (a song), you’re on (I’m on), the pong (what pong?), so strong (so strong);
Sleaze, sleaze deals, oh yeh, what questions must I ask?

Papers make their allegations,
“Benefits and compensations” they said,
Our regime will battle on,
Despite Tim Smith and Hamilton’s
Denoue-ment, yeh, ‘tho’ Neil says that he’ll sue.

(To the tune of “Money , That’s What I Want”)

The best things in life are free,
But we Tories still prefer to sleaze,
Cos we want money (for questions asked)
For questions asked (and weapons passed)
And weapons passed (young Thatcher’s task)
Just ask young Mark (that’s Thatcher’s Mark).

(To the tune of “She loves you”)

MAGGIE: You think you’ve sold a gun,
MARK I sold it yesterday-ay;
MAGGIE: You drove out to Oman,
And you got lost on the way-ay.
Your mother backed you,
MARK: So I knew that sheikh would bid;
MAGGIE: Because I backed you,
You have earned 12 million quid
ALL: Oooooohhhhhhhh
CHORUS: She backed him (yeh, yeh ,yeh),
Should have whacked him (yeh, yeh, yeh),
But with a mum like that, we knew he’d turn out bad;
And with a son like that we knew ………….she’d end up………..MAD!!

(Either: BLACKOUT or Yeh yeh yeh, yeh yeh yeh, yeh yeh yeh yeh!!
or perhaps even Blair Blair Blair, Blair Blair Blair, Blair Blair Blair Blair!!!!!)

Here are some YouTubes – the first is a poor live performance but it is The Beatles and has the lyrics underneath the vid if you click through to YouTube proper:

Here is the Barrett Strong version of Money, with lyrics on the screen:

Then back to poor live Beatles with the lyrics underneath if you click through for She Loves You:


Arthur, Lyric Written For Harold Davison, Marion Ryan And Their Pals, 23 October 1994

When Janie and I were first going out with each other, we’d sometimes have Sunday lunch with Kim, Micky, DJ, Gary, Clifford and others. Occasionally Gary’s dad, Harold Davison, would join us.

Harold took an interest in my lyric writing and occasionally asked me to write a lyric for performance at a private party. The lyrics were sometimes to be performed by Harold’s wife, Marion Ryan. Sometimes by Frank Sinatra.

This one was for a banker friend of theirs and I recall it was to be performed by Marion Ryan (although Sinatra had made the song Laura famous, of course).

Harold was most encouraging and more than once said that I should try writing “real lyrics”, reminding me that Sammy Cahn had started by writing spoofs a bit like mine. Flattery will get you everywhere.

On reflection, I suspect that Sammy Cahn (who was very much part of Harold and Marion’s entourage) had been their party lyricist until his untimely demise…around the time Harold started tapping me up for these things…

…still, you can do worse than be the replacement lyricist for Sammy Cahn, even when it is only for private party freebies.

(To the Tune of “Laura”)


Mr Crames who is sixty, turns
Share deals, that will rise, never fall;
Self made, warm-hearted and from Bear Stearns,
But won’t say what he earns,
At all;


You won’t see Arthur,
On the plane that is passing through,
He likes, ranch and beach to be near;
He gave the very best meals to you,
So for Arthur,
Let’s all give a huge cheer.


Here’s Sinatra singing Laura, with lyrics on the screen:

Letter To Harold Davison With Lyric, 23 October 1994

I explained the background to my writing occasional lyrics for the impresario Harold Davison in the piece accompanying one of the lyrics – Arthur.

Now I have also found the covering letter that went with that lyric to Florida:

Harold Davison 23 October 1994

(Boca Raton, Florida address redacted)

Dear Harold


I attach “Arthur” to the tune of “Laura”. It was an interesting request, as it didn’t occur to me when we spoke that the song “Laura” only has about 8 lines to it. Nevertheless, as part of a swinging party I don’t suppose the guests will be looking for complex and lengthy lyrical content.

Do feel free to request changes, rewrites, or a different song if you wish. I actually think that the choice of song is a good one, as it is so well known.

I’m sorry that it has taken me rather a while to get round to having a first stab at an Arthur Crames song for you. As Gary might have told you, I have recently left my safe job with a large firm to set up my own professional advisory business, Z/Yen, with some friends and former colleagues. The initial chaos is now subsiding, so I am able and willing to devote time to the really important things in life, such as the songs.

I hope all is well with you and your and look forward to hearing from you.

Yours sincerely
Ian Harris


John West Rejects, NewsRevue Quickie, 18 October 1994

This poor quality and poor taste quickie shows why I did well to stick mostly with lyrics.

The best Fred and Rose West material in NewsRevue was Debbie Barham’s wonderful English Country Garden song. I take a tiny amount of credit for that one having contributed the opening line, “How many stiffs can you hide without a whiff?” at the idea’s birth during a writers meeting. When Debbie retorted, “How many tendons in the rhododendrons?” I insisted that she would do a better job of that lyric than I possibly could – and I was right.

My sketch below is very very pale by comparison:

(A quickie to hail the trial of John West, Fred West’s ne’er do well brother)

A weirdo walks across the stage. It will transpire that he is Fred West. He happens upon two women.

WOMAN ONE:: Oy, Fred, what are you staring at?

FRED: I was thinking about offering you lodgings, but I’ve decided against it. Push off.


FRED: (Sings) Now I’m a ripper ripper…….

WOMAN TWO: (Innocently enters with luggage) Excuse me, I saw your sign advertising lodgings………..

FRED: Bugger off. We’re full.

VOICE-OVER: It’s the chicks Fred West rejects, that makes John West’s victims the best.

(While the voice-over is going, all three look upwards and around, trying to trace the source of the voice-over)

WOMAN ONE: What sort of pilchard put this sketch in the show?

Letter To Jonathan Linsley re NewsRevue, 17 October 1994

It was always a pleasure to do stuff with Jonathan Linsley, whose career highlights in reality preceded and are succeeding his NewsRevue days.

But my abiding memory of him will always be his performance as Eugène Terre’Blanche in my eponymous piece, back in 1992.

Seems I wrote to him in 1994 when he was with NewsRevue again and (presumably) trying to rustle up some material for another project:

Jonathan Linsley                          17 October 1994
News Revue

Dear Jonathan


My attempts to phone you have not succeeded – perhaps the pen is mightier than the British Telecom Premierline.

It’s not easy to find out of copyright songs in my portfolio – but I enclose some suitably reworked ones that I have managed to find.

Songs from other peoples collections that spring to mind include:

* Modern Labour General by Graham
* several by Andrew Wheelan to original tunes (e.g. Computer Song)
* is “Wonderbra” an original tune?
* John Random’s Group 4 song

It transpires that my friend, Michael Mainelli, does indeed know Chris Ewing from the consultancy work he did with Anglia. Michael has arranged to come, with entourage (i.e. 4 to 6 people I guess), on Wednesday, which I suspect is good news all round. Do let me know very, very soon if there is a problem with that

Yours sincerely
Ian Harris


Letter To Michael Eriera, NewsRevue & Jermyn Street Theatre, 17 October 1994

It’s all vaguely coming back to me. Michael Eriera liked my material a lot and wanted to use some of the less political material in a show he put together at the Jermyn Street Theatre.

I remember Janie and I going to see that show and liking it a lot – Michael was a good director.

I don’t think the project went all that far, sadly, but it was successful enough for some dosh to come my way; probably not much, hence my “spend spend spend” quip.

Michael Eriera                                    17 October 1994
(Finchley address redacted)

Dear Michael


As promised, here are some songs; some old, some new, all borrowed (music, that is) and none blue.

As it seems we are all to be fabulously wealthy on the back of your great find in Jermyn Street, I’m now off to spend, spend, spend.

Seriously, if you need some recordings or anything else do let me know. Remember that there are plenty more where these come from; I have omitted most of the political ones.

Yours sincerely
Ian Harris


Large Breasts Are All Around, NewsRevue Lyric, 17 October 1994

Four Weddings and A Funeral had been such a big film that year, as had Liz Hurley “busting out all over” her film award dresses and as had the film’s hit song; Wet Wet Wet’s version of Love Is All Around (see below).

I gave the story my treatment – quite sparse but effective I still think:

(To the Tune of “Love is All Around”)


I see them on the film set,
They’re bursting out of clothes,
Large breasts are all around me,
And so my feeling grows;
That siren Elle MacPherson,
And Lizzie Hurley know,
That if they want attention,
They’ve gotta let ’em show.

You know I love you, I always will,
Your rich since Four Weddings and a Funeril;
They say you’re brainy, but I’ll defend,
My cleavage is my own deep end.

HUGH: I see huge breasts before me,
As I lay on my bed;
LIZ: I kinda get to thinking,
You’ve one track in your head;
HUGH: I give nice comments to you,
So why are you upset?
LIZ: Large breasts are all around you,
And you’re so wet, wet, wet.

Here is Wet Wet Wet singing Love Is All Around, with the lyrics on screen:

While we’re here – I have always liked the song and far preferred it in its original recording by the Troggs. Here is a quintessentially sixties promo video of  The Troggs on one of those old-fashioned trains.

I wrote an update of this lyric 16 July 1995:

(To the Tune of “Love is All Around”)



I feel you with my fingers,
And then I suck your toes;
Large breasts are all around me,
And so my feeling grows;
My girlfriend Lizzie Hurley,
And tinseltown tarts know,
I’m mad and at attention,
If they just let ’em show.



You know I love you, I always will,
Your rich since Four Weddings and a Funeril;
They say you’re clever, so use your brain,
One flash of tits, you go insane.



HUGH: I see huge breasts before me,
As I lay on my bed;
LIZ: I kinda get to thinking,
You’ve one track in your head;
HUGH: I’ve told the world I’m sorry,
So why are you upset?
LIZ: Large breasts are all around you,
And you’re so wet, wet, wet.




Effing Booker, NewsRevue Quickie, 14 October 1994

One for completists, this. I needed to do some research to work out what I was on about.,.

…James Kelman’s Booker win and Julia Neuberger’s disliking of same.

(A Quickie to the Tune of “The Bonnie Banks of Loch Loman”)


You use your fine words,
While I’ll use the F word,
And I’ll win the Booker before ye;

I’ll make sure that fat cow will never speak again,
Once I’ve nutted fucking Julia Neuberg.

Completist heaven.

Here’s the original folk song with its lyrics on the screen: