Category: Writing (my writing)

John Major Rock, Eventually NewsRevue, Originally 30 January 1992

An early lyric from the period when I was writing for fun and submitting to Spitting Image on the off chance. I seem to recall getting good feedback on this one. I have the correspondence somewhere for Ogblogging in the fullness of time.

This one eventually got a NewsRevue run or two, perhaps late 1992. It worked well in the show.

As I reread this lyric for the first time in decades (in May 2019), I must admit I smiled a few times and even laughed out loud at one or two lines. Although why I suggested at that time that cricket legend Don Bradman might have been dead I simply cannot fathom. He died in 2001.

JOHN MAJOR ROCK

(To the tune of “Crocodile Rock”)

I remember when I was young,
Me and Norma had so much fun;
Holding hands to Johann Strauss,
Watching films of Bambi and Mickey Mouse.
Oh the wild and wicked games we’d play,
We’d knock on doors and run away;
While the other kids were causing an affray,
We were home playing records by Mel Torme – wo

John Major is not a stranger,
To the wrong side of the track;
And here in Lambeth you quickly learn,
What it means to receive a smack.
Hey lordy mama its Friday night,
So Norma counts her pairs of tights,
And I read Wisden late into the night.

Na – nanananana – nanananana – nanananana,
Na – nanananana – nanananana – nanananana.

Well the years went by,
Don Bradman died,
Maggie got the bullet, tho’ I don’t know why;
She had always been so very good to me,
Making me the Chancellor and Foreign Secret’ry.
But I nearly fell through the floor,
When the papers said that I’m a bore;
Which is libel, but I’ve chosen to ignore,
A not inconsiderable case in law – wo

John Major is not a stranger,
To the wrong side of the track;
And here in Lambeth you quickly learn,
How to stab people in the back.
Hey lordy mama its Friday night,
And “Friday Night Is Music Night”,
It’s gone 10:30 when we turn out the light.

Na – nanananana – nanananana – nanananana,
Na – nanananana – nanananana – nanananana.

Below is a video of Elton John singing Crocodile Rock with the lyrics on the screen:

Norman Lamont, Topical Lyric, 17 January 1992

This is a sardonic song about recession and Norman Lamont, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer at the time.

I wrote this a few months before my NewsRevue era began, so it wasn’t written with that show in mind. It was almost certainly one of my Spitting Image submissions, which led to their editors’ recommendation that I get involved with NewsRevue.

However, several of those earlier that had shelf life (as indeed this song does) found their way into NewsRevue later.

I’m pretty sure This one found its way into NewsRevue in the end.

My more upbeat, slapstick, “Norman the Chancellor” song the following year, when Mr Lamont got his political comeuppance, was an even bigger hit in NewsRevue – click here or below for that one. 

Norman The Chancellor, Topical Lyric, 30 May 1993

Meanwhile, here is the January 1992 sardonic Norman Lamont song:

NORMAN LAMONT

(Sung, preferably in a Scouse accent, to the tune of “Norwegian Wood”)

1st BIT

I once had a job,

And my own house,

And a small car.

Then it all went wrong,

Not what I want,

Norman Lamont.

2nd BIT

My boss called me in and he told me that business was bad.

He said I was fired, and that made him feel rather sad.

3rd BIT

I tried to climb back,

Not one to shirk,

But there’s no work.

My girl left a note,

Sorry to run,

I’m now a nun.

4th BIT

They reclaimed my house and they sold off my car and my fridge.

So I took to meths, now I sleep under Waterloo Bridge.

5th BIT

Now when I awake,

All that I’ve got’s,

This cardboard box.

It’s not very warm,

Not what I want,

Norman Lamont.

Click here or below for a link to the song Norwegian Wood on YouTube.

This is a link to the lyrics and chords for Norwegian Wood.

Cuba, Pre-NewsRevue Lyric, 22 December 1991

This lyric dates from that early period when I was writing just for fun and/or hoping to impress Spitting Image. This one certainly wasn’t going to impress the latter, as I fear it is more than a little one-dimensional.

I do quite like the Amnesty International inspired idea of writing to Fidel and Raúl Castro to complain about human rights abuses.

The closing line, “soon it will be others”, infers that I thought they were reaching the end of their line in 1991. Wrong.

If you want to know how Janie and I got on when we visited that country, in 2007, while it was still “governed” by those two brothers, click here or below.

Cuba and Jamaica, Placeholder and Links, 17 February to 9 March 2007

Next up, my 1991 lyric:

CUBA (To the tune of "Cuba")

CHORUS 1

Cuba, we eat a lot of pasta,
Cuba, and smoke a lot of Ganja.

VERSE 1

We haven’t much money, we haven’t much oil,
Tobacco and poppies grow well on our soil.

CHORUS 2

Cuba, a good place for a Rasta,
Cuba, with reefers from Havana.

VERSE 2

This island is boring, there’s no place to go,
And six hour speeches from Fidel Castro.
He’s the one,
Does go on,
On and on,
And on and on.

CHORUS 3

Cuba, the people like a martyr.
Cuba, especially Che Guevara.

VERSE 3

The workers are friendly, the soldiers are cruel,
Write and complain to Fidel and Raul.

CHORUS 4

Cuba, is ruled by those two brothers,
Cuba, but soon it will be others!

To see and hear Cuba by The Gibson Brothers click here (where you can also read the lyrics in the information section) or just watch the embedded link below:

Bye Bye NHS, Comedy Lyric, Subsequently NewsRevue, 29 October 1991

I wrote this lyric during a bout of comedy lyric writing for no particular purpose other than to entertain friends in the very early 1990s. NewsRevue came later and indeed I later revised this one for NewsRevue.

                                                               BYE BYE NHS

                                                  (to the tune of “Bye Bye Love”)
 
 
CHORUS
 
Bye bye lab,
Bye bye surgery,
Hello misery,
I think I’m gonna cry.
 
Bye bye staff,
Bye bye NHS,
Hello stinginess,
I feel like I could die,
Goodbye Health Service goodbye.
 
VERSE 1
 
We had our baby,
In Bartholemews,
We asked “which one’s ours?”,
They said “you choose”.
 
They said “the reason,
for uncertainty,
Is lack of budget,
In maternity.
 
Bye bye love,
Bye bye pregnancy,
Hello celibacy,
I think I’m gonna cry.
 
Bye bye cap,
Bye bye IUD,
Hello vasectomy,
I think I’d rather die,
Goodbye Health Service goodbye.
 
VERSE 2
 
I need a hip joint,
But it appears,
The NHS list,
Goes back three years.
 
Now there’s a reason,
Why I’m serene,
Cos while I’m waiting,
I’m on Morphine.
 
Bye bye blood,
Bye bye saline drip,
Hello Opium trip,
I think I’m gonna cry.
 
Bye bye drugs,
Bye bye pharmacy,
Hello lunacy,
I feel like I could die,
Goodbye Health Service goodbye.
 
VERSE 3
 
They’ve called a priest in,
For the last rights,
My condition’s worsened,
Overnight.
 
With the right treatment,
I may survive,
But they can’t afford to,
Keep me alive.
 
Bye bye life,
Bye bye wakefulness,
Hello deadliness,
I think I’m gonna cry.
 
Bye bye lungs,
Bye bye artery,
Hello mortury,
I think I’m gonna die,
Goodbye Health Service goodbye,
 
Goodbye Health Service goodbye (repeat, fade).

Below is the Everly Brothers singing Bye Bye LOve with the lyrics on the screen:

In truth I cannot see any difference between the 1991 version and the version I submitted to NewsRevue in the spring of 1992. I might have just described it as an updated version. Sneaky.

Mikhail Gorbachov, Comedy Lyric, 20 September 1991

I’d started writing comedy lyrics in earnest by September 1991, pretty much just to entertain friends and rehabilitate myself after best part of a year away from much socialising when my back was so very bad.

I rather like this one still. I particular like the idea of an un-named Soviet leader who no-one remembers any more. Konstantin Chernenko he was called. Thank you, Mr Google.

MIKHAIL GORBACHOV (to the tune of "My Boy Lollipop")
CHORUSES
Mikhail Gorbachov,
Came after Yuri Andropov,
And in between their tenures,
A bloke no-one remembers.
Oh, oh,
Mikhail Gorbachov,
Severely pissed the Russians off,
The crowd in Moscow pelts him,
Preferring Boris Yeltsin.
MIDDLE BIT
I love Petersberg and Moscow so,
But I’m not rush’n to go,
I’ve never been keen on Siberian snow,
Or the Gulag Archapeligo.
BACK TO THE CHORUSES
Mikhail Gorbachov,
Has more than just a nasty cough,
He needs to spend some time ‘ere,
Convalescing in Crimea.
Oh, oh,
Mikhail Gorbachov’s,
Surrounded by Kalashnikovs,
But there is no disputin’,
This man survives like Rasputin.
Mikhail Gorbachov.

Below is Millie Small singing My Boy Lollipop with lyrics on the screen:

BCCI, Topical Lyric, 4 August 1991

Once I became ensconced with the NewsRevue writing team, I soon learnt that the use of the tune YMCA for a story about something with a four-letter acronym was gauche and inherently likely to be rejected.

But back in August 1991, when I was just starting to write humorous songs, mostly because they seemed to be popping into my head and made useful party pieces, I was unaware of such rules.

I’m not sure that Spitting Image was aware of those rules either, as I seem to recall that they especially liked this one, about the Bank of Credit and Commerce International (BCCI).

But of course Spitting Image didn’t actually use it. No-one used it, apart from me; down the pub and on the Notting Hill dinner party circuit, when that circuit was still suitably edgy.

On re-reading the song nearly 25 years later, I do still like some of the lyrics and think some of the lines are pretty good/funny. Sadly, the sentiments around money laundering, drug money, arms money, secrecy and the super-rich getting away (metaphorically and sometimes literally) with murder, still very much apply.

Here is a link to YMCA lyrics.

Click here or below for a link to the official music video of YMCA by the Village People.

Any resemblance between the name of the defunct, corrupt bank known as BCCI, and that of the manifestly pure Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), is purely coincidental.

♬ BCCI ♬

(To the tune of “YMCA”)

VERSE 1

Con man, there’s a place you can go,

Con man, when you’ve lifted some dough,

You can bank there, and I’m sure you will find,

Many friends with whom you’ve done time.

Con man, what’s that under you’re bed,

Con man, wads of steaming green bread,

Con man, I suggest that instead,

You invest with BCCI.

 

CHORUS 1

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s not like Coutts, you don’t need to be posh,

It’s the place to launder your dosh.

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

You don’t have to be good, you don’t have to be straight,

You will get a huge interest rate.

 

VERSE 2

Gun man, you should not be pissed off,

Gun man, buy a Kalashnikov,

With a loan then, when you blow a head off,

You won’t need to cross-fire payments.

Gun man, what are you after next,

Gun man, buy a pound of Semtex,

With a card that, you are able to flex,

Buy your plastic with our plastic.

 

CHORUS 2

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

You can pay for your gun, you can make a new pal,

Called Saddam or Abu Nidal.

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

If guns for Iran isn’t quite what you want ya,

Can be debited with a Contra.

 

VERSE 3

Drug man, why don’t you take a cruise,

On the proceeds, of your sales of the blues,

To the Caymans, where the BCCI,

Will inject cash in your business.

Drug man, while you’re making your cash,

Drug man, selling kilos of hash,

You can invest, and it’s quite above board,

It’s all secret in Luxemborg.

 

CHORUS 3

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

They haven’t got decimal currency,

They’re still working in LSD,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

It’s great to bank with the BCCI,

This is the place for your cash from cocaine,

But you won’t see your dosh again.

 

REPEAT CHORUSES

 

FADE

 

 

Yugoslavia, A Pre-NewsRevue Lyric Eventually Used In NewsRevue, 1 July 1991

One of my very early efforts at lyric writing was this lyric about the break-up of Yugoslavia. The original is dated 1 July 1991 – I’ll need to upload a scan of the printout for that exact lyric. The version that follows – version 2, was updated and extended for NewsRevue in 1992 in the very early days of my involvement there. I have a feeling that it was actually used in the show briefly in the late summer/early autumn of 1992. If not Paula Tappenden’s cast then the one after.

Or did John Random use it in one of his subsequent runs/shows?

Anyway, here’s version 2:

YUGOSLAVIA (Version 2)

(To the tune of “Istanbul not Constantinople”)

VERSE 1

Serbia is in Yugoslavia,

Now there’s Croatia and also Slovinia,

Plus there’s Bosnia and then Macedonia,

Two that I don’t know,

And Mon-te-neg-ro.

VERSE 2

Lets go back to old Yugoslavia,

No you can’t go, there is such a palava,

You may get shot up and never recover,

One day you’re in Bled,

Next day bled and dead.

TRITE MIDDLE BIT 1

Even tennis stars,

Our commentators fear;

They can’t say without a glitch,

Goran Ivanisovitch.

VERSE 3

Take a break out in Yugoslavia,

No I won’t go there, I think I would rather,

Go to Greece or maybe Czechoslovakia,

Why did poor Yugoslavia get the veto?

Cos they went all to pieces after Tito.

 

(Instrumental – with “do, do, do’s”, “wo, wo, wo’s” and outbursts of “Serbia”, “Croatia”, “Bosnia”, possibly accompanied by some suitably violent business)

 

TRITE MIDDLE BIT 2

Even tennis stars,

Have put their lives at risk,

Monica Seles groans and grunts,

Even she had death threats once.

VERSE 4

See a shrink if in Yugoslavia,

Cos the countries shrinking farther and farther,

I’d prefer to be in the Intefarda,

Why is poor Yugoslavia now the pits?

Cos the Serbs are a bunch of violent gits.

Please note that the above version was dated 5 July 1992 – also aimed to be topical for Wimbledon but more than a year before the actual murder attempt on Monica Seles’ life.

Below is  a YouTube of The Four Lads singing Istanbul (not Constantinople)…

…or if you prefer the zappy They Might Be Giants version:

You can read the lyrics of Istanbul (not Constantinople) by clicking here.

Bagels In The Morning, Comedy Lyric, 7 June 1991

This is one of my very first comedy lyrics, written with no particular purpose. I’d been listening to a fair smattering of Allan Sherman and Weird Al Yankovic at that time; it shows.

The term “JAP” below is an acronym, as defined here, should be written J.A.P.

I did adapt/write a topical version of this lyric for NewsRevue a couple of years later, with Barbara Streisand as the J.A.P.

Bagels In The Morning, NewsRevue Lyric, 29 May 1993


BAGELS IN THE MORNING

 
(The JAP version of “Angel of the Morning”)
 
VERSE ONE
 
You tell me I am your princess,
So let’s go buy more jewels and gold.
If it is your aim to impress,
Then spend, and do what you are told.
 
A guy who’s so fast with the ladies,
Should drive at least a white Mercedes.
 
 
CHORUS
 
Go fetch me bagels in the morning,
Go fetch me lox with smooth cream cheese,
Go fetch me bagels in the morning,
But pickled herrings make me sneeze.
 
 
VERSE TWO
 
I was not quite so rational,
When we met in Siena,
I called you Hebrew National,
But meant Cocktail Vienna.
 
In your virility I trusted,
But you didn’t cut the mustard.
 
 
CHORUS
 
Go fetch me bagels in the morning,
Go fetch me lox with smooth cream cheese,
Go fetch me bagels in the morning,
But pickled herrings make me sneeze.
 
 
Some with seeds and onions
 
 
REPEAT CHORUS
 
 
FADE
 

This lyric works with the song Angel Of The Morning, which has been recorded by dozens of people, but in 1991 I only had the PP Arnold recording to hand:

Build A Rocket Or Two, Comedy Lyric, 4 February 1991

This is one of the very first comedy lyrics I wrote – for no particular purpose other than to amuse myself and friends.

I later adapted it to make it a little topical and it was used in NewsRevue.

Here is that 1991 original lyric:

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.

Here and below is a link to the 1992 version for NewsRevue:

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

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.

Mad Mullah, Comedy Lyric, cSeptember 1989

This is the first of the comedy lyrics on my log, roughly dated as September 1989. Actually I suspect that an early incarnation of The Ultimate Love Song probably preceded it, but no matter.

Mad Mullah lacks the subtlety and/or humour of some of my later work, but it is not bad for an early effort and has some multi-layering to it.

MAD MULLAH (A Song to the tune of "Moonshadow" by Cat Stevens)

CHORUS

I’m being followed by a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah,
Ducking and hiding from a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah.

VERSE ONE

And if I went out of my tree,
Who would mourn Salman Rushdie?
And if they ever shoot my mouth,
Awayayayayayayayay, I won’t have to speak no more.
And if I went out of my mind,
Apologies then would be signed.
And if they ever blow my pen,
Awayayayayayayayay, I won’t have to write no more.
Yes, I’m being followed by a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah,
Ducking and hiding from a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah.

VERSE TWO

And if I ever lose my ken,
Would it be on “News at Ten”?
And if they ever blast my eyes,
Awayayayayayayayay, I won’t have to see no more.
And if I ever lose my sense,
Would they cease to take offence?
And if they ever beat my brains,
Awayayayayayayayay, I won’t have to think…. [no more].
Yes, I’m being followed by a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah,
Ducking and hiding from a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah.

VERSE THREE (MODULATION – DRAMATIC BIT)

“Did it take long to find me?”, I asked as the doorbell rang.
“Did it take long to find me, and am I to garotte or hang?”.

FINAL CHORUS

I’ve been followed by a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah,
Blasted to silence by a mad Mullah, mad Mullah, mad Mullah.
Mad Mullah, mad Mullah,
Mad Mullah, mad Mullah.

The video below has Cat Stevens singing Moonshadow with the lyrics on the screen: