Category: Writing (my writing)

I submitted this one several times without success and even rejigged it a bit in October 1993 with hope for the John Random run, with similar results.

Perhaps foodie stuff just didn’t seem topical enough, although I feel that trend towards ubiquitous fusion food did kick off around then.

Indeed one of the ironies that comes to my mind on re-reading this song is that the Canal Cafe’s food concession was taken by a Thai chef soon after I wrote this song – probably the best food set up they had at the place during that 1990’s era.

Click here or below for a YouTube of the original recording of this song, Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree by Tony Orlando and Dawn.

Click here for a link to the original lyrics of the song.

Below is my somewhat improved October 1993 version of the song:

THAI AND YELLOW CHICKEN – VERSION 2

(To the Tune of “Tie a Yellow Ribbon”)

 

VERSE 1

I’m up in town I’ve done my job,

And at home there’s nothing cooking on the hob;

Me and my pals we’ll try a pub that’s called the Old Oak Tree,

We’ll have a simple dinner and we’ll drink a pint or three, but what’s this grub I see?

 

CHORUS 1

Oh Thai and yellow chicken in the Old Oak Tree,

After three long pints we want chips and peas, {chips and peas}

We don’t want Myanmaran chicken or Vietnamese,

We’ll kick up a fuss, get on the bus, lets go home and see,

If there is something plain and simple down the old home freeze.

 

VERSE 2

My pals and I we’ll pay a call,

To the late night shops where there is a food hall;

We’ll choose some beer and lager then we’ll go and choose I guess,

Some simple cook chill dinners that we’ll buy from M&S, but these appeal still less.

 

CHORUS 2

Oh Thai and yellow chicken in the old home freeze,

There’s Malaysian duck or there’s Guangdongese {Guangdongese}

There’s oven ready Singaporan beef and Pekinese,

A Pol Pot noodle, Rambutan strudel, someone spare us please,

From imitation oriental in the old home freeze.

 

VERSE 3

My pals and I we all agreed,

That we’re partial to an oriental feed,

But we like to taste the spices rather than a plastic sheet,

We’ll try the Chinese restaurant and get some food we’ll eat, then we’ll be replete.

 

CHORUS 3 AND OUTRO

Oh Thai and yellow chicken in the old Chinese,

We’ll get three strong meals in the Gold Yangtze…….

But the whole food trade’s gone crazy,

Cos I can’t believe I see,

A hundred pukka pies and chips inside the Gold Yangtze.

(c) Ian Harris 1993

In expectation of the departure of Dr Hastings Kamuzu Banda, the Prime Minister and President of Malawi for several decades.

Actually he didn’t depart until about a year after I wrote this lyric.

About 30 years after I wrote this lyric, Janie and I went on holiday to Malawi:

Here’s the lyric; not one of my greatest hits to be honest. It doesn’t even scan well:

BANDA

(To the Tune of “Homburg”)
 
VERSE 1
 
This multilingual African,
Has reached his finale;
Leaving utter depravation,
In the state of Malawi.
 
VERSE 2
 
‘Tho Doctor Hastings Banda,
Has now run out of steam;
He once displaced Uganda,
As the world’s worst regime.
 
CHORUS
 
His power tricks are dirty,
And his human rights are wrong;
He’d better take off his homburg,
Cos his overthrow won’t take long.
 
 
(Once he actually goes the last line reads “Cos his overthrow took too long” – the rest of the song is consistent before and after his departure)
 

Click here for a vid of Procol Harem singing Homburg, with the lyrics in the blurb underneath…or just watch the vid below:

Here is a link to the lyrics for Homburg.

This little quickie speaks for itself, really. I’m not sure whether or not it was sued.

BODY DOUBLES (VOICEOVER)
 
Film experts in Russia report that the film “Indecent Proposal” has flopped.  The studio blames a translation mistake in the marketing blurb.  Instead of saying “watch sex scenes between body doubles” the advert said “see the Congress of Peoples Deputies”.
 

I’m pretty sure this wasn’t used. As much as anything else, another of my lyrics that works to “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”, the Princess Di Bulmia Song, was a perennial in the show at that time:

Anyway, this was presumably intended to be a quickie and to echo the other “Heavy” number.

IT AIN’T LEVY, IT’S A PLUNDER

(Quickie to the Tune of “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”)
 
The road’s gone wrong,
It’s blemished with dire sun burn;
Our motorways from the start,
Fall apart.
 
Delays long,
And we’re asked to pay for them;
It ain’t levy,
It’s a plunder.

Below is a vid showing the Hollies performing “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”:

This link – click here – will show you the Hollies lyrics.

I don’t recall this lyric being used in NewsRevue, but there are a few minor revisions of it on my machine over that summer, so I’m guessing that it probably was.

JUDGES ARE SENILE


(To the Tune of “Putting On The Style”)
 
VERSE 1
 
Eighty three, goes to court, likes to wear his wig,
Britain’s legal system appointed this old prig;
He was a bright young lawyer who made a legal pile,
But now he’s old and talks baloney, judges are senile.
 
CHORUS 1
 
Oh
Magistrates are lunatics, judges are senile,
That’s why it’s a toss up what happens at a trial;
Convicted rapist walks free, another court meanwhile,
Jails a kid who smoked dope, judges are senile.
 
VERSE 2
 
Starforth Hill blames a girl ‘cos he’s off his board,
If he goes on at this rate they’ll make him a law lord;
He says all girls are sinful as does Judge Argyll,
These old sods know not what they’re saying, judges are senile.
 
CHORUS 2
 
Oh
Justices need therapy, judges are senile,
Most right thinking people find their opinions vile;
Ernest Saunders set free, judge gives him a smile,
Old Ernest has Alzheimer’s but is not senile.
 
VERSE 3
 
Justice on the Woolsack, the appeal court’s packed,
The House of Lords gives judgement ten years after the act;
That House is not debating the crimes that we revile,
But huge vexatious corporations suing for a pile.
 
CHORUS 3
 
Oh
UK courts are such a crime, judges are senile,
That’s why lots of young folks want other domicile;
We should make British justice defend itself on trial,
Let’s start by sacking judges who have gone senile….
i-ile, i-ile, i-ile.

This link takes you to the lyrics of Puttin On the Style. Below is a vid of Lonnie Donegan singing Puttin On The Style:

Below is the updated lyric for Verse Two and Chorus Two dated 11 July 1993:

JUDGES ARE SENILE – VERSION TWO

(To the Tune of “Putting On The Style”)
 
VERSE 2
 
Criminal Justice Bill scraps half of our rights,
Our hope of getting justice is like free Hoover flights;
We’ll lose our right to juries resolving our trials,
And get some bigot Magistrates with arthritis and piles.
 
CHORUS 2
 
Oh
Magistrates need therapy, most of them are vile,
They behave like judges but lack judicial guile;
Although the Magna Carta’s been around a while,
The stupid Royal Commission would scrap jury trials.

It seems I further revised Verse Two in August 1993:

VERSE 2
 
Criminal Justices scrap half of our rights,
Our hope of getting fairness is like free Hoover flights;
We’ll lose our right to juries resolving our trials,
And get some bigot Magistrate with arthritis and piles.
 

I don’t think this lyric ever made it into the show and possibly just as well. The slow numbers have to be very good to work in the show and this lyric doesn’t make the grade as I look at it 25+ years later.

TELECOM CHARGES

(To the Tune of “Wichita Lineman”)
 
VERSE 1
 
I am a financier for BT,
And I’ll buy BT 3;
Fifty quidsworth yuppy,
Taking shares profitably.
 
They’re raking in a huge pile,
They’re making hay while the sun shines;
Cos the Telecom charges,
Are way out of line.
 
VERSE 2
 
I know they have some competition,
But it don’t look like trade;
As Mercury it seems to me,
Can never make the grade.
 
Those BT fat cats are laughing,
They make more money every time;
Cos those new operations,
Must hire BT lines.
 
VERSE 3
 
But someday soon BT will tumble,
And lose their monopoly;
Now yuppies drone on cordless phones,
That don’t come from BT.
 
And though we need them more than want them,
And wally’s use them at odd times;
The cellular cordless,
Don’t use BT lines.

Below is Glen Campbell singing Wichita Lineman, with the lyrics of that song there to be seen on the screen: