I had no recollection that the Mad Frogs And Englishman lyric was somewhat a request by Maggie and Paul. Nor that my father passed on sage advice about it through me! But I do recall my father absolutely loving that lyric.
This was much harder to write than I thought it would be, but it has gone down very well with everyone who has heard it so far (and I can barely do Noel Coward).
My old man reckons that “Noel” should be introduced by a maid or butler bringing him a newspaper or some such business. Whether this would mean anything to the under 70’s I cannot judge, but I promised to pass on his advice to you.
I hope you have fun with the Noel song.
Some friends of mine who regularly visit the show came along last Thursday and called me yesterday to say that it was the best News Revue they had seen in ages. Well done!
One of the longest-running of the lyrics I wrote for NewsRevue, it is about the Bosnian war. There were several updated versions of this one, but take a look first of all at the version I believe to be the first of them, from February 1994.
It was my dad’s absolute favourite, this one. But then he was a Noel Coward fan. My other recollection of it was the great Paul Cawley having a love/hate thing with it. Love in that he liked delivering the material. Hate in that he reckoned it was one of the hardest lyrics he’d ever had to learn.
MAD FROGS AND ENGLISHMEN
(To the Tune of “Mad Dogs And Englishmen”)
VERSE 1
In Balkan climbs these are torrid times they say,
When former Yugoslavs conspire to lie in wait and open fire;
It’s one of those wars where guerrillas cause affray,
In which a wise peacekeeping force is not prepared to stay the course and goes away.
Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tat – machine gun fire – whizz splatt, whizz splatt;
We make Serbs irate yes their warlords hate our guts, because our aid workers are definitely nuts.
CHORUS 1
Mad Frogs and Englishmen take aid to the Bosnians, Americans don’t care to, Italians wouldn’t dare to;
The loss via the cross fire cannot be described as fun, but England has beserker aid workers;
In Sarajevo they are so brave, oh why don’t they have a go at,
Herzegovina? No, don’t bother, the place is entirely Croat;
In Mostar the costs are that convoys are overrun,
But Mad Frogs and Englishmen lug aid to the Bosnians.
VERSE 2
Most people deplore the extent of war they see,
So many Nations seem to fight although they know it can’t be right;
Humanitarian aid, the majority pay deftly,
But when it comes to volunteers most stay at home to drink their beers and watch TV.
Whizz splatt, whizz splatt – Scud missile attack – different war this time – nyyowww;
It seems such a shame when the UN claim the earth, that they give rise to so much ridicule and mirth,
Ha-ha-ha, oh dear.
CHORUS 2 & CHORUS 3
Mad Frogs and Englishmen drag aid to the Bosnians, the UN’s a defender quite likely to surrender;
A long war is ignored if Asian or African, as French and English cures stop in Europe;
The Middle East won’t in the least be borne such a harried snack,
In Central Asia there’s little aid for Nagorno Karabakh;
In Phnom Penh the strong men won’t help a Cambodian,
But Mad Frogs and Englishmen run aid to the Bosnians.
Mad Frogs and Englishmen shlep aid to the Bosnians, the Russians try to ban it the Yankees help them plan it,
General Rose we must suppose has spent too long in the sun, as most war zones just wish an aid mission;
In Guatemala the pantry parlours aren’t filled with flown in fare,
Iraqi Kurds think it absurd their lack of aid’s so unfair,
In Mogadishu the big issue is that the yanks have cut and run,
But Mad Frogs and Englishmen take aid through the Serb lines, dodge past the Croats,
Give a little, get a little, mercy mercy mercy mercy aid to the Bosnians.
Thank you very much.
Just in case you are unfamiliar with Noel Coward’s patter song, Mad Dogs and Englishmen, here it is:
Below is one of the better updates for NewsRevue, when the war took a slightly different turn in the summer of 1995. Possibly even tighter than the first version.
MAD FROGS AND ENGLISHMEN – SUMMER 1995 REMIX (To the Tune of “Mad Dogs And Englishmen”)
VERSE 1
In Balkan climbs these are torrid times they say, When former Yugoslavs conspire to lie in wait and open fire; It’s one of those wars where guerrillas cause affray, In which a wise peacekeeping force is not prepared to stay the course and goes away. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-tat – machine gun fire – whizz splatt, whizz splatt; We make Serbs irate yes their warlords hate our guts, because our aid workers are definitely nuts.
CHORUS 1
Mad Frogs and Englishmen take aid to the Bosnians, Americans don’t care to, Italians wouldn’t dare to; The loss via the cross fire cannot be described as fun, but England has beserker aid workers; In Sarajevo they are so brave, oh why did poor Zepa yield?, Srebrenica’s like the blitz only thank God no Gracie Fields.; In Mostar the costs are that convoys are overrun, But Mad Frogs and Englishmen lug aid to the Bosnians.
VERSE 2
Most people deplore the extent of war they see, So many Nations seem to fight although they know it can’t be right; Humanitarian aid, the majority pay deftly, But when it comes to volunteers most stay at home to drink their beers and watch TV. Whizz splatt, whizz splatt – Scud missile attack – different war this time – nyyowww; It seems such a shame when the UN claim the earth, that they give rise to so much ridicule and mirth, Ha-ha-ha, oh dear.
CHORUS 2
Mad Frogs and Englishmen drag aid to the Bosnians, the UN’s a defender quite likely to surrender; UNPROFOR is ignored and has nowhere else to run, cos French and English cures stop in Europe; The Middle East won’t in the least be borne such a harried snack, In Central Asia there’s little aid for Nagorno Karabakh; In Phnom Penh the strong men won’t help a Cambodian, But Mad Frogs and Englishmen run aid to the Bosnians.
CHORUS 3
Mad Frogs and Englishmen shlep aid to the Bosnians, the Russians try to ban it, the Yankees help ’em plan it, Rupert Smith must be high on spliff as he sits upon Mount Igman but most war zones just wish an aid mission; In Guatemala the pantry parlours aren’t filled with flown in fare, Iraqi Kurds think it absurd their lack of aid’s so unfair, In Mogadishu the big issue was that the yanks just cut and run, But Mad Frogs and Englishmen take aid through the Serb lines, dodge past the Croats, give a little, get a little, mercy mercy mercy mercy aid to the Bosnians. Thank you very much.
I don’t think this lyric was used. I had loads in the show at that time, not least plenty of John Major material. Frankly, I think the others that were used were probably better. But a few decent ideas in this one.
The disaster song genre seemed appropriate at that time…
…retro-writing in the spring of 2019, that disaster genre would be good for our current times too.
_ JOHNNY LEADS HOPELESSLY _
(To the Tune of “Johnny Remember Me”)
VERSE 1 – JOHN MAJOR
{Ah, ah, ah-oh} When the press is prying and the smears are flowing, And the daily papers are full of innuendo; {oh-oh} I’m castigated by Norman, The Chancellor that I sacked a year ago. {oh-oh}
CHORUS 1 – NORMAN LAMONT
Johnny leads hopelessly.
VERSE 2 – JOHN MAJOR
Well it’s hard to believe, I know, But he’s still so tactless when he talks to the press; ‘Specially if they feed him, {oh-oh} And get him legless. {oh-oh}
CHORUS 2 – NORMAN LAMONT
(Now sounding quite drunk) (hic) – Johnny leads hopelessly. (Then coming to a little) But, now I can remember, Ginny Dougary, made a buggery -(hic); Ginny, misquoted me. {GINNY:oh-no, oh-no, that’s what he said to me}
VERSE 3 – JOHN MAJOR
Well I’m glad, I guess, I found myself, another Chancellor, To take the place of that juice head; But as long as I live I know, Norman will be loitering around in the House, Feeling like a leper, and buying booze at Threshers;
CHORUS 3
NORMAN (soaked):(hic) Johnny remembers me, JOHNNY:Yes, I’ll always remember; Your skulduggery, NORMAN (soused):(hic) Oh bugger me, Johnny dismembered me (hic). (Norman passes out and is dragged off by chorus {Johnny, dismembered him})
Yes, I loved it to death. I enclose the Portillo and Lilly sketch I promised. Hope you like it. A few thoughts and comments on the stuff from last night.
MR GHALI
This one goes down so well when I try it out on people one to one. It seemed a bit static -you could try having the “let’s here it for Mr Ghali” over the PA and have one of the cast then come skipping on later in the song. It would benefit from a short sketch to lead into it I think. Also, consider “Guatemali” instead of “Bengali”. The former is so far from accurate that it could only be a joke. Also, Guatemala is very definitely still a war zone whereas Bengal sort of isn’t.
MEDLEY FROM HELL
I love the bike. It has a News Revue-ness about it. I think Paul could go further in the urine bit – I suggest a glass of Lucozade or Honey & Lemon. This should make the audience laugh and it just about might save Paul’s volume.
Basically I think the show is great and I’m looking forward to seeing everyone next week. If you want call me this weekend, please leave your telephone number on my answering machine as I have mislaid it from last week!
I do not recall the “boycotting of Romeo and Juliet because it is too hetero” incident that triggered this idea. But I do recall Michael Portillo and Peter Lilley, prominent politicians at the time and still quite prominent 25 years later as I write in 2019.
Nurse Edwina is Edwina Currie, who at that time was best known for the “salmonella in eggs” scandal. Friar Gummer is John Gummer, who I latterly got to know well through the Marine Stewardship Council.
I do also recall this mini ballet going down very well with the audience.
_ PORTILLO AND LILLYET _
(A mini-ballet performed to Tchaikovsky’s Fantasie “Romeo & Juliet”)
(The musical themes I suggest are the fighting theme, the love theme a totally inappropriate tune from elsewhere and the coda. You’ll have to work out the choreography for yourselves. The narrative should hopefully provide plenty of ideas and some laughs in itself.)
INTRO
And now, following the recent boycott of Romeo and Juliet for being too heterosexual, The News Revue Back To Basic Outing Ballet Company is proud to present: Portillo and Lillyet. Your narrator is Anna Ford.
ANNA FORD
Scene one. Outside Tory party head quarters in Smith Square. The two rival factions, the Mounting-dues and the Cap-your-debts, are fighting in the street. Two of the young combatants eyes meet. They are Portillo and Lillyet. Both realise that this is the love that dare not speak its name. A love of port wine and cut budgets. Hastily, they arrange a liaison and scurry away from their fighting colleagues.
Scene two. A quiet spot somewhere in Whitehall. The star-crossed lovers cavort an exquisite dance. I said an exquisite…oh never mind. Then, Lillyet makes the immortal speech “Portillo, Portillo, cut the arts now, Portillo.” The lovers have one final fling and then part to return to their whips.
Scene three. A commons tea room. Nurse Edwina approaches Lillyet. As they jive, she tells Lillyet that his love of Portillo can never be fulfil-ed. For Lillyet is a spending department Cap-your-debt and Portillo is a treasury Mounting-due. Besides, Portillo is far too young. However, Nurse Edwina promises to try to get the age of consent reduc-ed. She persuades the gullible Lillyet to take a sleeping draft while he waits for Edwina’s bill to be enact-ed.
Scene four. A commons corridor. Nurse Edwina sends Friar Gummer to tell Portillo about their cunning scheme. The tragedy begins to unfold as Friar Gummer slips on some drittsekk in the corridor and fails to reach Portillo in time. When Portillo arrives and sees the sleeping Lillyet he assumes Lillyet to be dead. Portillo assumes that his political career is over. He swallows one of Nurse Edwina’s poisoned eggs, which she had conveniently left lying around. Portillo perishes. Lillyet awakens. He sees the dead Portillo and swallows one of Nurse Edwina’s poisoned eggs himself. Nurse Edwina is re-instat-ed to a ministerial post and the rival factions of the Tory party continue to squabble and make fools of themselves ceaselessly.
I am especially fond of this lyric, not only because it did well in NewsRevue, but because Mike Hodd (the founder of the show) has oft told me that this is one of his favourite lyrics.
There are several versions of this lyric (Bill Clinton’s peccadilloes were gifts that kept on giving to satirists), the first of which I think was the most successful.
BILLY, YOU AIN’T NO HERO
(To the Tune of “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero”)
VERSE 1
The marching band went down along main street, The presidential car behind; Drum majorettes went down upon Billy, Bill Clinton didn’t seem to mind. And with her hand upon his shoulder, A rather angry Hilary; She firmly put him in a half nelson, And set him on the pillory.
CHORUS 1
Billy, don’t be a plonker, Don’t screw around all your life; Billy, why must you bonk her, Why not make do with your wife. And as Billy jogged down the road, He thought “where should I dump my load?”; Billy don’t be an arse hole, don’t be a creep.
VERSE 2
The US troops are trapped in Somalia, Cos Billy Clinton sent them there; Don’t understand the wars he’s supporting, Still pokes his nose in those affairs. He was a pacifist objector, When it was his neck on the spot; But now that Bill is just giving orders, He sends the troops in like a shot.
CHORUS 2
Billy, don’t play at heros, Don’t waste American life; Billy, don’t interfere, oh, Stay home and fight with your wife. Cos like with his girlfriends before, He’ll go in and quickly withdraw, Billy, you ain’t no hero, go back to sleep.
Below is a video of Paper Lace singing Billy Don’t Be A Hero with lyrics on the screen:
For the 1996 US Presidential election I revised the second verse and chorus thusly:
BILLY, DON’T BE AN ARSEHOLE 1996 ELECTION SPECIAL (To the Tune of “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero”)
VERSE 2
The Grand Old Party locked deep in combat, Dole and Buchanan fighting it; One right wing bastard takes on another, The public doesn’t give a shit. Bill Clinton might get re-elected, Despite the fact he’s made a mess; It’s not because Americans love him, They just hate Bill a little less. (They said……)
CHORUS 2
Billy, don’t be an arsehole, Don’t make America woyce (worse, pronounced Brooklyn style – “woyce”); Billy Clinton or Bob Dole, Or Ross Perot – what a choice!!. Think of all the issues Bill ducked, And of all the pussy he’s fucked; Billy, don’t be an arsehole, go play with your sax.
BILLY: Someone mention sex??
Then, in early 1998, when subpoenas were supposedly coming in like confetti, I rewrote Verse 2 and Chorus 2 yet again:
BILLY, YOU AIN’T NO HERO – SUBPOENA REMIX (To the Tune of “Billy, Don’t Be A Hero”)
VERSE 2
Bimbos’ subpoenas flood to The White House, Claiming that Bill had stoked them up; They called the roll of Bill’s jilted lovers, Five hours later we woke up. With Paula and Monica Lewinsky, He bit off more than they could chew; Bill’s trapped between Little Rock and a hard place, He only wants his hourly screw. (Or head).
CHORUS 2
Billy, thinks he’s a hero, Roll with a hot dog or two; Billy, you are a weirdo, Why doesn’t Hillary do? And while Billy plays with his sax, He plans where he’ll next get some ac-tion, Billy, you ain’t no hero, why not resign?
This is one of my personal favourites and it was used a reasonable amount in NewsRevue.
I originally put this lyric up dated 3 July 1994, but have now discovered from my log that it was originally written 9 January that year. So the twaddle I wrote about writing it while setting up Z/Yen and leaving Binders…
Written around the time that I was setting up Z/Yen – I think I had handed in my notice at Binders by then. That fact has no bearing on the song/lyric.
…is twaddle.
I recycled the rap break in my first performance piece for the Gresham Society soiree in 2011 – a version of Any Old Iron with rap break – to be Ogblogged in the fullness of time.
THOSE WERE THE RAVES
(To the Tune of “Those were The Days”)
VERSE 1
Once upon a time there was a hanger,
Where we used to hold a dance or two;
Remember how we drove in our old bangers,
Just think of all the speed we used to do.
CHORUS 1
Those were the raves my friend, we drove folk round the bend,
We’d sing and dance and hyper ventilate;
We were so full of beans, on our amphetamines,
But come the Monday we would vegetate.
RAP MIDDLE SECTION
Yo, pal, those were the days,
We t’ought d’ey’d always be the craze;
We’d spin and dance de whole night t’rough,
Cos I was poppin’ Es and you was sniffin’ glue;
And now you’ll hear the sad, sad song,
Of how we lived so fast and died so young;
But sugar, I don’t mean the thing’s I rap,
I should get outta the way, cos I’m talkin’ crap;
And I go on and on and on and on,
You know my jaw don’t stop until the break of dawn;
I’m just rabbitin’ on about a prior year,
Cos I suffer from verbal diarrhoea, yo.
VERSE 2
Soon a dizzy feeling in the cloakroom,
Jemmimah the pink rat flew through he door;
In the glass a hideous reflection,
I squeezed the zit, then passed out on the floor.
CHORUS 2
Those were the raves my friend, but they were bound to end,
We’d spin and dance all night in ecstasy;
House Acid and Hip-Hop, ’till we were fit to drop,
We’d crash and burn before we’re twenty three, (la la la la la la la la la la la la).
You really don’t need to point out to me that 4 January is not a good time of year to get inspiration for a Christmas song, especially when you write for a topical show.
This lyric popped into my head when it popped into my head, what else can I say?
_ CHRISTMAS SONG _
(To the Tune of “Mary’s Boy Child”)
VERSE 1
Long time ago in Kingston town, A calypso star went wrong; Harry Belafonte sang, A putrid Christmas song.
CHORUS 1
“Merry Christmas” Slade does sing, But no-one’s having fun; And man will bill for ever more, A Christmas number one.
VERSE 2
Rudolph the red nosed reindeer had, An extremely shiny nose; Frosty snowman cut a disc, With Seal and Axil Rose.
CHORUS 2
Santa Claus has come to town, To get on all our tits; And man must listen ever more, To ghastly Christmas hits.
Below is Harry Belafonte singing Mary’s Boy Child, with lyrics on the screen:
This lyric almost wrote itself and ran in NewsRevue a lot in 1994.
_ GET BACK TO BASICS _
(To the Tune of “Get Back”)
VERSE 1
Major was a man who thought he was a leader, But he knew it wouldn’t last; Major was a feeble ineffective bleeder, Borrowed slogans from the past.
CHORUS 1
MAJOR:Get back, get back, get back to basics once again; Get back, get back, Victorians were real men; Get back to basics!! (Trollop) VERSE 2
Yeo Yeo was a man who hated single mothers, Tho he was a single dad; Yeo Yeo thought that morals just applied to others, Others thought that Yeo was mad.
CHORUS 2
MAJOR:Get back, get back, get back on the backbench again; You lack, you lack, the morals on which we depend; Get back, backbencher! (you trollop) VERSE 3
Tory was a party hated indiscretion, Didn’t like the way it looks; Major gave the public a distinct impression, With the House of Commons cooks.
CHORUS 3
Set back, set back, set back to Tories once again; Lets sack, lets sack, the hypocrite at number ten.
MAJOR:Get back to basics ALL:Basically you’re crap MAJOR:Oh bollocks.
Below is Ben Murphy’s recording of Get Back To basics:
In February 1994 I replaced Verse 3 et. seq. with the following:
VERSE 3
MAJOR:Stephen was a sad sack with no contaception, Never had a furtive shag; CHORUS:Stephen it appears preferred his own erection, With a flex and plastic bag.
CHORUS 3
Get back, get back, get back to Playtex once again, Get black, get black, get black suspenders on your men; Set back, set back, set back to Tories once again; Lets sack, lets sack, the hypocrite at number ten.
And lets hear it for Hartley Booth, the easy lay preacher: Amen.
