Author: Ian Louis Harris

Mick’s Unpleasant Things, NewsRevue Lyric, 1 August 1992

25 years ago to this very day (I am writing on 1 August 2017), I wrote this rather nasty little lyric, which was very successfully used in NewsRevue for many weeks.

I’m hoping someone out there can name the two performers who made this their own for the first few weeks; I can picture them but not name them. I think Jonathan Linsley and Dot Atkinson were also in that cast, but I’m pretty sure the other two played Mick and Jerry…

Postscript: I found a running order and cast list in my own pile of antiquities – Peter Anthony Graham was “Mick” and Vanessa Peers was “Jerry”.

25 years later Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall are both still surprisingly newsworthy.

MICK’S UNPLEASANT THINGS

(To the Tune of “My Favourite Things”)

 

JUDGE:Dearly beloved.  We are gathered here today to conduct the divorce proceedings of Mr Michael Jagger and Ms Jeremiah Hall.  Ms Hall.  Will you please explain to this court why you wish to divorce this man.

 

VERSE 1 – JERRY’S TESTIMONY

 

Prancing about like a twelve year old wanker,

Marianne Faithful and loyal to Bianca;

Hundreds of other girls now wear his rings,

These are a few of Mick’s unpleasant things.

 

VERSE 2 – MORE OF JERRY’S TESTIMONY

 

Ogling at photographs of Dolly Parton,

Trips with Bill Wyman to the Kindergarten;

Look how he dances and hear how he sings,

These are a few of Mick’s unpleasant things.

 

CLIMATIC BIT 1 – JERRY’S CLIMAX

 

When a Mars bar, extra large size, is placed by my bed;

I think of Mick’s bulging and expectant eyes, and go for a walk instead.

 

JUDGE:Is she not radiant?  Is she not fragrant?  Would you care for a Twix, Ms Hall?  Now, Mr Slimy Toad, what do you have to say for yourself?

 

VERSE 3 – MICK’S TESTIMONY

 

Slow Texan drawl that drives me to distraction,

With girls like her I can’t get satisfaction;

Fights over Carla and my other flings,

These are a few of her unpleasant things.

 

VERSE 4 – MICK’S TESTIMONY

 

Honky Tonk Woman you’ve gone way past your prime,

Get off my cloud, paint it black for the last time,

I want some action, I don’t want the strings,

Least of all I want her unpleasant things.

 

CLIMATIC BIT 2 – MICK’S CLIMAX

 

When my lips purse, and I’m strutting, then its time for bed;

I think about Jerry’s aversion to rutting, and screw someone else instead.

 

JUDGE:Divorce granted.  Next case please.

Just in case you don’t know the song My Favourite Things from The Sound of Music…or even if you do know it but want to hear and see it again, here it is:

 

On 1 August 1993, I wrote a 50th birthday remix of this lyric:

MICK’S UNPLEASANT THINGS – 50th BIRTHDAY REMIX

(To the Tune of “My Favourite Things”)
 
ANNOUNCER:And now, in honour of Mick Jagger’s fiftieth birthday, we go over now to Mick & Jerry’s palatial residence in Richmond upon Thames.
 
VERSE 1 – JERRY HALL
 
Prancing about like a twelve year old wanker,
Marianne Faithful and loyal to Bianca;
‘Tho Mick is fifty he still has wild flings,
These are a few of Mick’s unpleasant things.
 
VERSE 2 – MICK JAGGER
 
Slow Texan drawl that drives me to distraction,
With girls like her I can’t get satisfaction;
I’m fifty so Jerry now clips my wings,
These are a few of her unpleasant things.
 
CLIMATIC BIT 1 – JERRY’S CLIMAX
 
When a Mars bar, extra large size, is placed by my bed;
I think of Mick’s bulging and expectant eyes, and go for a walk instead.
 
VERSE 3 – JERRY HALL
 
Ogling at photographs of Dolly Parton,
Trips with Bill Wyman to the Kindergarten;
Look how he dances and hear how he sings,
These are a few of Mick’s unpleasant things.
 
VERSE 4 – MICK JAGGER
 
Honky Tonk Woman you’ve gone way past your prime,
Get off my cloud, paint it black for the last time,
I want some action, I don’t want the strings,
Least of all I want her unpleasant things.
 
CLIMATIC BIT 2 – MICK’S CLIMAX
 
When my lips purse, and I’m strutting, then its time for bed;
I think about Jerry’s aversion to rutting, and screw someone else instead.

Note To Paula Tappenden, NewsRevue, 1 August 1992

This note speaks for itself.

So the other female in that cast (other than Dot Atkinson) was named Vanessa. Can anyone remember or find out what her surname is/was?

(Postscript: Vanessa Peers.)

I remember absolutely nothing about the stupor-filled weekend in South London referred to in the note…

…so it must have worked.

The diary helps; I went to see Little Voice with Bobbie on the Saturday evening and played bridge (presumably at Daniel’s place) at 5:30 on the Sunday. I’ll write up the Little Voice presently but the bridge I don’t recall but it sounds as though it would have been well wacky.

 

Dear Paula,

 

 

Here is one new song and some changes to bring some others more up to date.

 

MICK (see enclosed)

 

Vanessa wanted a leading role in a number from a big musical – so here it is.  I’m actually very pleased with “Mick’s Unpleasant Things” and hope you like it too.  I think you could do a lot with it.

 

STERIODS (see enclosed)

 

The twists in the Olympic drugs story have helped me to tighten up the Steriods (sic) number.  I think it is better than it was, but I won’t be disappointed if you drop it for something better.

 

TERRE’BLANCHE (see enclosed)

 

The Terre’Blanche libel case gets more bizarre and more coverage in the papers each day.  I have tweaked the intro to bring it up to date with the case and added an extra “middle bit” couplet that pre-empts the ANC general strike (due to start Monday) and the Boipatong enquiry (due to start on Thursday).  You have done a really marvellous job with this number – I was very impressed.  It is just a shame that the writers could hardly see at the back last week!

 

LABOUR (not enclosed)

 

I agree with you’re swopping Dave Blunkett for Paul Boeteng in “Come Back Labour”, but I think the intros should now read:

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce:

Neil Kinnock on keyboards,

Margaret Beckett on do-dos,

Harriet Harman on wop-bops,

Dave Blunkett on eye-drops,

And me, John Smith, on (pointedly) lead vocals.”

 

One small hint on performing “Labour”: – the Wilson couplet can be made to scan by leaping in a fraction early on the second line – the emphasis is as indicated    thus:

 

“Come back Wilson, whatcha leave for?

We last won elections in ‘74,”

 

(I keep meaning to mention this when I see you – I know its a bit petty.)

 

ME (not enclosed)

 

I’m off now to spend the weekend in a stupor with various friends in South London.  I may well get some good ideas there – but am unlikely to remember many of them and am even less likely to write anything down.  If anything else does come to me I’ll bring it in Monday night.

 

You are all doing a grand job and I hope to see you next week.

 

Eugène Terre’Blanche, NewsRevue Lyric Actually Used, 26 July 1992

I like to think of Ogblog as the fifth emergency service. So when John White texted me on 1 January 2017 to say that he had my old Eugène Terre’blanche/Sweet Gene Vincent song giving him earworm and could I please Ogblog it sharpish…no sooner the word than the deed – click here for that hurried rescue piece.

But in truth, I wanted to write more about this lyric and in any case that original version from February 1992 was pre-NewsRevue (from my point of view) and never professionally performed.

By the summer of 1992 I was writing quite regularly for NewsRevue and, fortuitously (for me and for NewsRevue, not for the people of South Africa), Terre’blanche was back in the news.

Stalwarts of the show that summer were Jonathan Linsley and his then girlfriend Paula Tappenden. Both had a go at both acting and directing the show; at that juncture, Paula was directing and Jonathan was acting. That was good fortune for this song, as Jonathan was able to personify the ghastly Eugène Terre’Blanche very well.

I recall some excellent business in the intro where they would take the line “I like to watch springboks rutting” and get a member of the cast to do some suggestive puppetry with a pair of sneakers, only for Linsley/Terre’Blanche to yell, “I said springboks, not Reeboks”.

The female members of the cast would don deer masks and then dance around as a chorus of springboks. I recall that Dorothy (“Dot”) Atkinson was one of the springboks in that song but more importantly one of the supremely talented members of that cast.

Perhaps you had to be there – it was great. Paula and Jon (and indeed Dot); you were and are stars. It was one of the golden eras for NewsRevue.

In my delight and excitement at this triumph, I found, in Record and Tape Exchange, which is/was around the corner from my flat, an utterly ghastly album of Afrikaaner Oom-pah-pah music by Johnny Saffer and his Afrikaaner Pennywhistle Brass Band. OK, perhaps the band wasn’t called that, but the jolly looking chap on the cover “boer” a passing resemblance to Linsley/Terre’Blanche.

I gave the album to Paula and Jonathan. I think Jonathan and Paula enjoyed the wheeze. I wonder what became of that memento when they split? Perhaps this Ogblog piece will uncover one or both of  those lovely people and my question might even be answered.

Meanwhile, the lyrics that were actually used in NewsRevue follow:

                              EUGENE TERRE’BLANCHE – JULY 1992 VERSION

(To the tune of “Sweet Gene Vincent”)

 

INTRO BIT

 

{CHORUS:Eugene baby}

I like to get out of Cape Town sometimes and drive round the Karoo,

I like to eat Boerwors with right wing reporters who claim we don’t screw;

I like to watch the springboks rutting, I like to eat them barbecued.

Eugene Terre’Blanche, Neo-Nazi baas, Eugene Terre’Blanche.

{CHORUS:Who, who, who’s that baas?}

 

1st MAIN BIT

 

White face-black shirt, whites rich-blacks poor, Afrikaner-Hottentot, white’s right-black’s not:-

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

There’s one in every town;

I’m fond of dressing up like the Ku Klux Klan,

In a pointed hat and gown.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I am a crashing Boer;

Before we cede power to the ANC,

We’ll fight a civil war.

 

Well, the Nationalist Party is much too soft,

I think they’re Botha jerk,

But I’d still sooner have to take my Pik,

Than F.W. de Klerk.

 

2nd MAIN BIT

 

White Meneer-black Kaffir, whites vote-blacks don’t, Afrikaner-Bantu, hate blacks and Jews:-

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

They say that I’m like Himmler;

I haven’t yet caused as much violence as him,

But our accents sound quite similar.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I’m the baas laager lout;

We’re gonna cause trouble in the RSA,

Until we get thrown out.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I’m just a big fat git;

I’d like to end this song on a profound note,

But I’m afraid that’s it.

 

Click here or below for the Ian Dury and the Blockheads version.

 

Build A Rocket Or Two, NewsRevue Lyric, 26 July 1992

In truth I had no recollection of rewriting this one in the summer of 1992 nor of seeing it performed in NewsRevue – I simply remembered the generic version of it (shown at the bottom of this piece, dated 4 February 1991 in my jotter) as one of my earliest efforts of writing parody lyrics and performing them to friends.

Still, there it is in a running order I have rediscovered from Week Four of Paula Tappenden’s run – (w/e 31 July 1992).

I vaguely recall the subject of Saddam and his missiles being in the news again and discussing it at the writers’ meeting the week before, so I must have thought to myself, “I have a little something that will easily adapt to this story”.

The notion that Saddam had really nasty weapons squirrelled away somewhere seems to have been part of the general consensus amongst the savvy as early as 1992; an interesting note for the many historians who are surely reading the NewsRevue section of Ogblog as part of the authoritative historical record of the 1990’s era.

BUILD A ROCKET OR TWO – JULY 1992 VERSION

(A song for Saddam and Chorus to the tune of “Pick a Pocket or Two”)

 

VERSE ONE

In this world one thing counts,

On defence, large amounts;

Missiles like these, don’t grow on trees;

You’ve got to build a rocket or two,

You’ve got to build a rocket or two, boys,

You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

{CHORUS:Guns like these don’t grow on trees

You’ve got to build a rocket or two.}

 

VERSE TWO

Take a tip from Saddam,

Losing war is a sham;

Shrug of the loss, I’m still the boss;

But better hide a rocket or two,

I’d better hide a rocket or two, boys,

I’ll hide a vicious rocket or two.

{CHORUS:Yankee nerds can’t save the Kurds,

Saddam has hid a rocket or two.}

 

VERSE THREE

Iraqis, pay their tax,

For warheads, with Anthrax;

Splat Kurds en masse with mustard gas;

So build another rocket or two,

You’ve got to build a rocket or two, boys,

I’ll build a Shiite rocket or two.

{CHORUS:Germs like these don’t spread with ease,

So build another rocket or two.}

 

VERSE 4

UN force, who will lose,

Can my Scud, beat their Cruise? (Saddam looks worried, then has a thought)

Kill with aplomb by Neutron Bomb;

I’ll buy another rocket or two,

I like to buy a rocket or two, boys,

A very nasty rocket or two.

{CHORUS:Fallout?  These last centuries,

We’d better build a bunker or two.}

Here is Ron Moody singing “Pick A Pocket Or Two” from the movie version of Oliver!:

…and here are the lyrics to Pick A Pocket Or Two.

If by any chance there are some completists keen to see the original (February 1991) version of my “Rocket” lyrics, here it is:

BUILD A ROCKET OR TWO

(A Song to the tune of “Pick a Pocket or Two” from “Oliver!”)

VERSE ONE

In this world, one thing counts,
On defence, large amounts.
Missiles like these,
Don’t grow on trees;

You’ve got to build a rocket or two,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two, boys,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

Guns like these,
Don’t grow on trees,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

VERSE TWO

Why should we, pay more tax,
For warheads, with Anthrax?
Splat ’em en masse,
With mustard gas;

You’ve got to build a rocket or two,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two, boys,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

Germs like these,
Don’t spread with ease,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

VERSE THREE

If it’s Nukes, that you choose,
Build a Scud, or a Cruise.
Kill with aplomb,
By Neutron Bomb;

You’ve got to build a rocket or two,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two, boys,
You’ve got to build a rocket or two.

Fallout? These,
Last centuries,
You’d better build a bunker or two.

Steroids, NewsRevue Lyric, 25 July 1992

It was the Barcelona Olympics that summer and I thought the event needed the drugs treatment…

…as it were.

I remember Jonathan Linsley bellowing “Barcelona” at the end of the first line, to give the piece a topical feel, because it is, in truth, generic.

Still, it ran for several weeks and could run again. All it would need is a metaphorical shot in the arm.

STEROIDS

(To the Tune of “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself”)

VERSE 1 – GIRL ATHLETE

I just don’t know what I’ve done to myself,

Don’t know just what I’ve done to my health;

Used to be soprano, now I’m baritone,

Once svelte, now I’m fourteen stone,

And chilled to the bone.

I can throw far and run like a shot,

Cos I’m built like a jet Aeroflot;

Where I once had bosoms, now I’ve large pectoids,

Don’t eat, I just take steroids;

I’ve great muscle tone,

Not human, more like hormone.

DRAMATIC MIDDLE BIT ONE – YOU CAN ALL JOIN IN

Barcelona games, we want to win the most,

We’ll do our best stuff to be first past the post.

VERSE 2 – A GROTESQUE BLOKE

I just don’t know what I’ve done to my glands,

Failed my drug test and now I’ve been banned,

Used to do athletics cos it kept me fit,

Now I just live for the hit,

When I put the shot,

It’s Cortisone in the bot.

DRAMATIC MIDDLE BIT TWO – YOU CAN ALL JOIN IN AGAIN

Barcelona games, there’ll be new records set,

We’ll take the most drugs in one Olympics yet.

VERSE 3 – TWO GROTESQUE BLOKES

We just don’t know what we’ve done to ourselves,

Get strange feelings in our brains and pelves;

Guess the trainer told us we would come in fast,

Girlfriends want our run to last;

A minute or two,

{GIRL – sounding a bit miffed}

But seven seconds won’t do.

In July 1996 I updated the lyric for the Atlanta Olympics, which gave it a new lease of life:

STEROIDS – ATLANTA 1996
(To the Tune of “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself”)

VERSE 1 – GIRL ATHLETE

I just don’t know what I’ve done to myself,
Don’t know just what I’ve done to my health;
Used to be soprano, now I’m baritone,
Once svelte, now I’m fourteen stone,
And chilled to the bone.

I just don’t know what I’ve done to my glands,
Failed my drug test and now I’ve been banned,
Where I once had bosoms, now I’ve large pectoids,
Don’t eat, I just take steroids;
When I put the shot,
It’s Cortisone in the bot.

MIDDLE EIGHT ONE – YOU CAN ALL JOIN IN

The Atlanta games, we want to win the most,
We’ll do our best stuff to be first past the post.

VERSE 2 – TWO GROTESQUE BLOKES

We just don’t know what we’ve done to ourselves,
Get strange feelings in our brains and pelves;
Guess the trainer told us we would come in fast,
Girlfriends want our run to last;
A minute or two,
{GIRL – sounding a bit miffed}
But seven seconds won’t do.

MIDDLE EIGHT TWO – YOU CAN ALL JOIN IN AGAIN

The Atlanta games, there’ll be new records set,
Most cases of drugs in one Olympics yet.

VERSE 3 – MEDICS

We just don’t know why they’ve all done these drugs,
Cos they knew they’d get caught, they’re no mugs;
Maybe in Atlanta, something’s in the drink,
Athletes all land in the clink;
That’s why we all sing,
Try Coke, it’s the real thing!!

Here is Dusty Springfield singing I Just Don’t Know What To Do:

Here’s a link to the lyrics of I Just Don’t Know What To Do.

City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra & Simon Rattle At The Proms, But Who, If Anyone, Accompanied Me?, Royal Albert Hall, 19 July 1992

One of the great mysteries of my diaries and logs. Normally I would leave a clue as to who accompanied me. This time, there are no clues. Did I book this one as a single ticket – so keen to see Simon Rattle and the CBSO I decided to go it alone? My electronic financial records don’t go back far enough for me to be able to tell.

OK, let’s round up the usual suspects. Jilly. Annalisa. Bobbie. (Were it anyone other than one of those three, I’m sure there would be clues in my diary/logs).

I had written the following NewsRevue piece, destined to be a hit, the day before this concert and would have been full of it that evening, if accompanied:

Come Back Labour, NewsRevue Lyric, 18 July 1992

But I digress.

Here is a link to the BBC stub for the Prom concert.

I/we heard:

  • Roberto Gerhard – Don Quixote (complete ballet: 2nd version)
  • Leos Janáček – Glagolitic Mass

Here is a more recent Simon Rattle with the Berlin (rather than Birmingham) lot, doing a short extract from the Gerhard…

…and a short extract from the Glagolithic Mass:

If you want to see what Simon Rattle looked like in Birmingham in the 1990s, the following is his farewell gig there from 1998, with the CBSO & CBSO Chorus:

Edward Greenfield in the Guardian loved this concert:

Rattle Prom Greenfield GuardianRattle Prom Greenfield Guardian 22 Jul 1992, Wed The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

OK Jilly/Annalisa/Bobbie. A confession would be much appreciated if one of you remembers being there.

Come Back Labour, NewsRevue Lyric, 18 July 1992

A sadly prescient lyric – John Smith, European Union via Wikimedia Commons

I remember so clearly having a drink with this super cast; Jonathan Linsley, Dot Atkinson, Vanessa Peers and a spindly chap (was he named Paul?…update – no, he was named Peter Anthony Graham) who did Mick Jagger very well. Paula Tappenden was directing. The wonderful Dai Jenkins was the MD.

I asked them if they had any special requests.

Peter Anthony Graham aka “Spindly chap” wanted to sing a doo-wap song.

The girls wondered whether I could make a really taboo subject such as cancer amusing.

That weekend I attempted both. Only one worked.

This one worked and ran in the show for quite some time. I still like the song, although the line about John Smith possibly having a dicky heart went off as soon as he did actually have a massive heart attack and die. Kinda spoilt the joke.

COME BACK LABOUR

(To the Tune of “Come Back My Love”)

(You’ll have to supply most of the “do-wops” yourselves)

 

(John Smith is reading a boring speech about Labour Party policy – all the others are fidgeting and looking intensely uncomfortable)

 

SMITH:….once we’ve controlled unemployment, then we can concentrate on inflation and the balance of trade.

 

Clause Four of the Labour Party constitution has for many years been a vital issue……..

 

KINNOCK:John, for crying out loud.  This isn’t what Labour needs.  The people need a rallying cry to bring them back to the party.  A new vision, a new voice, a new tune.

 

SMITH:Och, Neil, maybe you’re right.

 

INTRO – JOHN SMITH ON LEAD VOCALS

Woh, oh, oh;

Come back Labour, don’t fade away,

Come back voters, come back to stay;

It’s our darkest hour, been so long without power,

We need to win so badly:

 

Wop {do,do,do} do de wang {do,do,do} do de wop, do de wang, do de wop.

 

CHORUS 1 – OTHER SINGERS START TAKING OVER (TO JOHN’S ANNOYANCE)

Oh won’t you come back Labour, don’t fade away,

We need new ideas, we need to pray;

We bicker too much and when we have a putsch,

The Liberals look happy.

 

Jim Callaghan, he was a man,

The British voters just couldn’t stand,

We failed in the South, put our Foot in our mouth,

And lost even more badly.

 

MIDDLE BIT 1 – JOHN IS BEING UPSTAGED

Now every party makes, some mistakes, in its choice of leader,

But Labour has a knack for, choosing an unelectable bleeder,

{Wo-ah, wo-ah, wo-ah}

 

CHORUS 2

Come back Wilson, whatcha leave for?

We last won elections in ’74,

We’ve floundered so much, we need your winning touch,

Cos since we’ve done so badly.

 

INSTRUMENTAL WITH LOTS OF “WOP A DO WOPS” AND THAT SORT OF THING

JOHN SMITH:Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce:

Neil Kinnock on keyboards,

Margaret Beckett on do-dos,

Harriet Harman on wop-bops,

David Blunkett on eye-drops,

And me, John Smith, on (pointedly) lead vocals.

 

MIDDLE BIT 2 – JOHN SMITH IS BRIEFLY BACK ON LEAD VOCALS

The papers spread the myth, that John Smith, isn’t up to the fast pace,

But in the Labour Party, they know that my heart is in the right place,

{CHORUS: and beating.}

 

CHORUS 3 – BUT IT WAS FUTILE, JOHN IS MARGINALISED AGAIN

Come back Kinnock, don’t go away,

We want you back, we want you to stay,

We all liked your style, tho’ you lost every while;

We’re used to doing badly,

{KINNOCK:Re-re-re-really?}

We keep on doing sadly,

{KINNOCK:You mean it?}

We want to win so badly.

 

OUTRO

KINNOCK:Oh, I can make one of my rabble rousing speeches, like the one in Sheffield.

ALL:Perhaps we’d better stick with John Smith for a while.

Here are Darts singing Come Back My Love.

…and the lyrics can be found here.

Lumps, Attempted NewsRevue Lyric (Mercifully Unused), 18 July 1992

I remember so clearly having a drink with this super cast; Jonathan Linsley, Dot Atkinson, Vanessa Peers and a spindly chap (was he named Paul?…no, Peter Anthony Graham) who did Mick Jagger very well. Paula Tappenden was directing.

I asked them if they had any special requests.

Peter (aka “spindly chap”) wanted to sing a doo-wap song.

The girls wondered whether I could make a really taboo subject such as cancer amusing.

That weekend I attempted both. Only one worked.

Lumps, the cancer song, didn’t work. Nor (mercifully) did the team use it, despite having requested it.

I tried.

I’D A LUMP IN MY GUT

(To the Tune of “You’re the One That I Want”)

 

VERSE 1 – HIS HOLINESS

I’ve got cells, they’re multiplying,

May be losing my bowel;

Cos the pain the lumps applying,

Its intensifying {Its intensifying, its intensifying, its intensifying}.

 

VERSE 1 – OLIVIA

You’d better shape up, cos we need a Pope, with a healthy intestine;

You’d better shape up, if you’re gonna cope, the growth better be benign;

 

CHORUS 1 – BACK TO HIS HOLINESS

Yes it is, the prognosis is divine.

I’d a lump in my gut, {how big’s the lump you’ve got?}, Oooh, ooh, ooh, sister;

Like a small coconut, {where did it hurt a lot?}, Oooh, ooh, ooh, brother;

Like a pain in the butt; {he has a lot of pluck}, Oooh, ooh, ooh,

That neoplasm, had me in spasm.

 

VERSE 2 – OLIVIA (COMING ON A BIT STRONG WITH HIS HOLINESS)

Keep abreast of the tabloids,

They’d go bust for a rumour;

‘Bout the state of my mam’roids,

Pap tumour.

 

VERSE 2 – HIS HOLINESS (SLIGHTLY OUT OF CHARACTER I FEEL)

You’d better shape up, Miss Olivia, cos you’re well known for your bust,

I’d better shut up, cos my own career, will be over if I lust,

{OLIVIA:Are you sure?}Yes, abstention is a must.

 

CHORUS 2 – OLIVIA

Now the one on the left, {look at the udder one}, is a lot bigger,

Than the one on the right, {titter at nipple puns}, which is much smaller,

Than the one on the left, {I read it in the Sun}, Ooh, ooh ,ooh;

It’s not neurosis, it’s carcinosis.

 

Now my tit has gone bust, {cancer’s a lot of fun}, ooh, ooh, ooh,

STOP (The music and dancing stops) – I can’t go on singing this pap:

It brings a lump to my throat.

 

(Looks of horror on the other faces and then quickly BLACKOUT)

Here is the video of You’re The One That I Want from Grease:

...and here are the lyrics.

Goebbels Diaries, NewsRevue Lyric (Unused), 12 July 1992

I guess I was still learning as I went along back then – I had only been writing for NewsRevue for a dozen or so weeks still…

…but this one doesn’t/didn’t/couldn’t have worked.

It has one or two good lines in it and gives a feel for the news story that was doing the rounds at the time.

Still, I had been enjoying a creative weekend that weekend – the day before was my first session with Michael over the idea that became Clean Business Cuisine – but that’s another story to be Ogblogged separately.

Back to Goebbels:

GOEBBELS DIARY – A SONG FOR FUHRER AND CHORUS

(To the Tune of “Nobody’s Diary”)

VERSE 1

Joseph Goebbel’s was my right hand man for sure,

We spread propaganda and we went to war;

Now his wretched diary gets publicity,

Folks are gonna remember him and forget me,

So I’m angry.

 

VERSE 2

Back in 38 we planned the Krystalnacht, {Ohhhh, ohhhh}

But by 45 we were completely facht;

The fire in the Reichstag, The Night of Long Knives,

Its a fact that we Nazi’s had eventful lives,

And The Big Lie.

 

CHORUS 1

FUHRER:For the times we had I want to be,

CHORUS:Star in Goebbels’ diary

FUHRER:Say, I was really bad, so write about me,

CHORUS:In the Goebbels’ diary

FUHRER:Hey, the translator’s mad, he says he likes me,

In every page, of Goebbels’ diary.

 

VERSE 3

Revisionists like Irving say we weren’t that base, {Oh-oh, oh-oh}

I think Irving’s theories are a damn disgrace;

We should be remembered as a bunch of shits,

We were evil and don’t forget who caused the Blitz,

We were violent gits,

The pits.

 

CHORUS 2

FUHRER:Could the Sunday Times have been deceived,

CHORUS:Like with Hitler’s Diaries,

FUHRER:Say, after all this time do you want to read,

CHORUS:Joseph Goebbels’ diary (page)?

FUHRER:Was the Sunday Times inspired by greed,

To print each page of Goebbels’ diary.

Here is Yazoo singing Nobody’s Diary:

…and here is a link to the Yazoo lyrics.

Meet Me In Panama, NewsRevue Lyric, Unused, 11 July 1992

A busy weekend of writing; this particular day was also my first session with Michael Mainelli to discuss the idea that became Clean Business Cuisine – but that’s another story to be Ogblogged separately.

I’ll guess that I wrote this lyric in the morning before having lunch with Michael…

…guessing that neither my creative mind nor my alcohol-addled brain will have been up to much after the long lunchtime session.

Anyway, this lyric is about the Noriega saga (Panama) which was in the news at the time. It has a few decent lines in it, but didn’t make the cut for the show and I can understand why.

MEET ME IN PANAMA

(To the Tune of “Meet Me on the Corner”)

 

VERSE 1 – US MARINES SEIZE MANUEL NORIEGA

Hey Mr Noriega, how have you been,

Tell me, have you Coke folks can snort?

We came along, to seize you by the shlong,

And to seize the blow you export.

 

You and your mates, must come back to the States,

Where we’re gonna jam you in gaol,

You are Commie gits, and you have a lot of zits,

So I schmeck that our law suit won’t fail.

 

CHORUS 1 – US MARINES SEIZE MANUEL NORIAGA

Meet us in Panama,

When the drugs are passing through,

And we’ll be there, to snatch you by the hair.

We’ll check up you’re ass,

And if we find a trace of grass,

Then your conviction will be fair.

 

VERSE 2 – US JUDGE LECTURES NORIEGA

O, Mr Noriega see what you’ve done,

You’re a dealer, pusher and slime;

You hustle for hours, but our court has the powers,

And it nose that you’ll do lots of time.

 

CHORUS 2 – US MARINES RETURN

 

Meet us in Panama,

When the Coke is passing through,

We’ll blow the place, to try and crack the case;

Manuel’s tried to make a pile by flogging passing flake,

Now Noriega’s in disgrace.

 

VERSE 3 – US JUDGE SENTENCES NORIEGA

You rock the court with your three hours of blort,

But we won’t let detail toot our goal,

You’re jury of peers has laid on forty years,

And for that long you won’t get parole.

Here is a vid with Lindisfarne singing the superb song, Meet Me On The Corner,  with their lyrics showing on the screen: