I wrote my version during the metaphorical-interregnum between George H Bush and Bill Clinton.
It returns to my mind at the time of writing this (November 2016) with some trepidation while we await Donald Trump’s succession from Barack Obama. Oh dear.
I wrote a more substantial update 11 October 1994:
SO LONG MA’AM – AUTUMN 1994 REMIX
(To the Tune of “So Long Mom”)
CHORUS 1
So long Ma’am,
I’m off to bomb Saddam,
So don’t wait up for me;
And while he’ll swelter,
In his air raid shelter,
Baghdad will be,
A pile of debris.
Saddam’s aggressive malarkey,
Means we shall slaughter Iraqis,
We don’t mind killing poor darkies,
To get our point across;
He’s upset Kuwait and massed his forces,
Which has made Bill Clinton very cross (yeh).
VERSE
Bill Jefferson Clinton is the US Pressie,
And no frightened Jesse is he;
He and pal Al Gore drew up a massive hit list,
Forget pacifist,
Tendencies;
Bill is now making his mark,
Annihilating Iraq.
CHORUS 2
So long Ma’am,
I’m off to bomb Saddam,
So don’t wait up for me.
Perhaps I shall use,
Tornado or cruise,
But don’t take offence,
This is self defence.
Now Bill is smoking less pot,
He’d like to kill a despot,
So blanket bomb the best spot,
Within our range and space;
Annul Saddam then come back once over,
When another loony takes his place.
Indeed Harold had told me that Sammy Cahn was impressed by my parody lyrics and had suggested that I try writing some original lyrics as my next move…which apparently had been the route (from parody to witty originality) that Sammy Cahn himself took as a youngster.
Whether that idea really did come from Sammy or was more Harold’s own thinking is lost in ancient history.
Harold had also told me that Frank Sinatra hated My Way, simply because he didn’t like the song…
…and that Sammy Cahn hated the fact that people tended to assume that he had written the lyrics to My Way, whereas it really isn’t his kind of lyric at all.
So in truth, this obituary lyric of mine was a bit of an in joke, which is why it probably never saw the light of day in public – I don’t think NewsRevue used it even in the week of his death.
I suspect this lyric did raise a quiet smile or more among “the in crowd” though, when Harold shared it with his pals. Re-reading it for the first time in ages, 25 years after writing it, I still like it.
SAMMY CAHN OBITUARY SONG
(To the Tune of “My Way”)
VERSE 1
And now the end is here, and so I’ll darn a final lyric;
My friends, I’ll say it clear, that Sammy Cahn’s verse was satyric;
He liked pianos grand, he used a Bechstein and a Steinway,
And yet that Sammy Cahn, did not write “My Way”.
VERSE 2
I’ve heard this song before, I have high hopes it’s magic will pay;
Saturday night, teach me tonight, time after time I’ll go all the way;
Sam didn’t write “My Way”, the words are by some other wanker,
Jul-e Styne or Hammerstein? (thinks for a moment…….sudden flash of light)
This was probably my most successful NewsRevue song of all. It ran for months; perhaps even years and found its way into several “best of” runs, and some other shows. Ben Murphy recorded it and I seem to recall Jacqui Somerville taking it to German Radio.
But I never saw a penny for it myself, as I assigned the intellectual property rights to Save The Children as soon as I wrote it.
Anyway, I am proud of my lyrics (below) and very pleased that they earned Save The Children more than a few quid.
Below is the Ben Murphy recording of the lyric from his album “Cover Of The Rolling Stone”. The preamble and conversational bit in the middle is Ben’s alone.
♬ BETTER FACE ♬
(To the Tune of “Heal The World”)
VERSE 1
There’s a mug that you see on your TV frequently,
‘Though I look differently I’m Michael Jackson;
It may be a surprise ‘cos you may not recognise,
The new bits that my plastic surgeon tacks on.
I may have a face lift, a nose job or a skin shift,
To have a better face and a different race.
CHORUS 1
Every year, I’m gonna have a better face,
Both my eyes and my nose will be in a different place;
Now my cheeks need grouting,
And my lips have been fixed pouting,
It’s the strangest face that you’ve ever seen.
VERSE 2
The third world’s misery to the music industry,
Is the best chance we have to make a living;
War and famine is sad but it doesn’t seem as bad,
When you’re taking much more than you are giving.
There are people starving but I’m the last one laughing,
I’ll get a better place in the record race.
CHORUS 2
In the charts, I’m gonna get a better place,
Discs of gold and platinum are added to my case;
‘Though the poor are dying,
I’m not the one who’s crying,
It’s the best chart place that I’ve had for years.
The following list is titled “Bowden”. Based on subsequent correspondence and what is left of my memory, I think this went to a director named Mark Bowden, who took a particular shine to my songs.
Mark liked it and used it, although it is hardly a laugh out loud song. I think he used it as a tone down.watershed song. It ran for a while I recall, despite my profound inability to spell Nagorno-Karabakh back then. I might be the only NewsRevue lyricist to have used that place name and attempted to rhyme with it more than once.
I’m pretty sure we spent that first Christmas together apart, as it were, with our respective families, regathering at the bank holiday weekend after Christmas, which fell on a Friday that year.
Janie’s diary for 28 December reads:
1.00 Ian, Kim & Micky lunch – at Kim’s
I believe that.
I’ll guess that we ate some yummy food and drank far too much wine.
My diary suggests that I played bridge on 29th or 30th December. There are no clues as to where we played, nor which day, although I’m guessing the original idea was 30th and the eventual was 29th.
Janie’s 1992 diary for 31 December reads:
11.00 collect food…
…Jane’s party…
…while mine simply indicates a new year’s eve do of some kind, unspecified.
Janie is pretty sure that the term “Jane’s party” in this context means that she threw a small party at Sandall Close, as she was wont to do back then – the “collect food” bit clinching it for Janie that her use of the term “Jane” at that time would have been self-referral.
Her 1993 diary contains more clues, with an additional page stating that the food collection was from Mrs Saad’s place on St Mark’s Road. Lebanese if I remember correctly.
I’ll guess that it was a relatively small gathering – probably Kim & Micky, plus anyone else from Janie’s inner circle of friends who happened to be around. I suspect 10-12 people.
I’ll guess that we all ate some yummy Lebanese food and drank far too much wine.
This is not the most profound song I ever wrote. The electronic file is dated just before Christmas 1992. The song premiered in the first run of 1993, about one month later.
As part of my research for the lyrics that follow, Janie and I did procure and attempt to use such a contraption on one occasion. How we laughed. The things we put ourselves through for my NewsRevue art.
♬ INSIDE A FEMIDOM ♬
(To the Tune of “Under the Moon of Love”)
VERSE 1
Lets go for a little shag, and use a Femidom,
Just me and you and a plastic bag, lets use a Femidom;
I wanna lover {wanna lover} with a cover {with a cover},
Like a great big Wellington,
Little darling, let’s poke and stoke, inside a Femidom {a Femidom}
VERSE 2
Loving you is so fantastic, inside a Femidom,
With your coat of thermoplastic, known as the Femidom;
This vaginal {this vaginal} polyvinyl {polyvinyl},
Is an artificial con,
Little darling let’s bonk and tonk, inside a Femidom {a Femidom}
MIDDLE BIT 1
We only bought the one, because the price is so steep,
By the time you got it on, I’d long since gone off to sleep;
{I think I would rather use my hand}
VERSE 3
Bring the groceries from the shops, inside a Femidom,
A pork salami and sirloin chops, inside a Femidom;
It’s the fashion {it’s the fashion} to kill passion {to kill passion},
With a jumbo freezer bag,
Little darling, let’s hump and rump, inside a Femidom {a Femidom}
MIDDLE BIT 2
At enormous cost, a polyurethane thrill,
I hope that we’ve not lost, our coil and our cap and the pill;
{Why not use a method I can stand?}
VERSE 4
We’ll avoid a misconception, without a Femidom,
Let’s use other contraception, but not the Femidom,
Then we’ll feel {then we’ll feel} something real {something real},
And we won’t feel put upon,
Little darling let’s play and lay, without a Femidom {no Femidom}.