This was the last of my “pre-NewsRevue era” comedy lyrics – another 1992 election-oriented lyric. I wrote the lyric 3 April although the log credits it as 8 April ; the election was held 9 April. No-one expected the Tories to retain power in that election, but they did.
WILL YOU BELIEVE ME TOMORROW? (To the tune of “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?”)
TORY
The night is ours completely, Tho’ we campaigned effetely; Tonight, the Right, was given a kickstart, Will you believe me tomorrow?
LABOUR
We’ve won by every measure, Much to the Tories’ displeasure; So, after all, this nation has a heart, Will you believe me tomorrow?
ALL
Tonight with words multifarious, Spin doctors claim that we’ve all won; Their quotes may seem hilarious, Once in print, in the Times and Sun.
LIB/DEM
This is our finest hour, We hold the balance of power; We, in our dreams, prepare for Government, Will you believe me tomorrow?
ALL
We, in our dreams, prepare for Government, Will you believe us tomorrow?
(Backing vocals for the three political verses as follows: Sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha, Sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha, sha-la-lub-sha; Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa, aaaaaaaaaaaaaa, aaaaaaaaaaaaaa, aaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Will you believe me tomorrow?)
3 April 1992
Below is a video of The Shirelles singing Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow:
This is another comedy lyric written around the time I found out about NewsRevue but probably written for my own/friends amusement. It was around the time of the 1992 election.
FLAGS OF CONVENIENCE (To the tune of “The Red Flag”)
RED
The people’s flag is deepest red, It shrouded oft our martyred dead; And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold, Their heart’s blood dyed its every fold.
Then raise the scarlet standard high, Within its shade we’ll live or die; Tho’ cowards flinch and traitors sneer, We’ll keep the red flag flying here.
BLUE
The bosses flag is deepest blue, It helps us tell men what to do; And when they’re fighting in a bar, Its azure lights the Panda Car.
Then raise the sapphire flag a while, Within its shade we’ve made a pile; Tho’ Unions flinch and workers sneer, We drink fine wine, they swig warm beer.
YELLOW
The Liberals flag is yellow/gold, The colour isn’t very bold; And as we can’t make up our minds, We’ve changed our name a dozen times.
Oh jaundiced banner in the skies, Within your shade we’ll compromise; Tho’ Tories punch and Labour pound, We’ll occupy the centre ground.
GREEN
The Eco flag is crispest green, We like to keep our standard clean; And tho’ it sounds incré-dible, Our flag’s biodegradable.
Oh verdant banner in the breeze, Within your shade, no CFCs; Tho’ dross decay and wastrels wear, We’re going to save the ozone layer. 27th March 1992
I also wrote an update of this lyric in the Autumn of 1994; I don’t think that it was used in NewsRevue either, but it might have been:
FLAGS OF CONVENIENCE – AUTUMN 1994 REMIX (To the tune of “The Red Flag”) RED The people’s flag is deepest red, It shrouded oft our martyred dead; And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold, Their heart’s blood dyed its every fold. So raise the scarlet standard up, In deepest pooh we’ve ended up; Tho’ unsure what the ‘ell it’s for, We took the cause out of clause four. BLUE The bosses flag is deepest blue, It helps us tell men what to do; And when they’re fighting in a bar, Its azure lights the Panda Car. So raise the sapphire flag a while, Within its shade we’ve made a pile; Tho’ Unions flinch and workers sneer, We drink fine wine, they swig warm beer. YELLOW The Liberals flag is yellow/gold, The colour isn’t very bold; Tho’ we’re broad-minded on our jogs, We’re Fascists on the Isle of Dogs; Oh jaundiced banner in the skies, Within your shade we’ll compromise; Tho’ Tories punch and Labour pound, We’ll occupy the centre ground. GREEN The Eco flag is crispest green, We like to keep our standard clean; And tho’ it sounds incré-dible, Our flag’s biodegradable. Oh verdant banner in the breeze, Within your shade, no CFCs; Tho’ dross decay and wastrels wear, We’re going to save the ozone layer.
I think this lyric and one or two others in the run up to the 1992 general election, coincided with my first visits to NewsRevue at the Canal Cafe Theatre. I’ll need to rummage my physical correspondence files for chapter and verse on that.
But I was also just sort-of writing this stuff for friends and my own amusement.
I’m pretty sure this one formed part of my early submission pack to NewsRevue but it wasn’t used.
It has some quite good ideas in it, though.
REALLY SAYING NOTHING
(Sung to the tune of “Really Saying Something”)
1st BIT
I was walking down the street, ({CHORUS} Dowaddywaddy) When a pollster came up to me; ({CHORUS} Oh yeh) He shook me by the throat, ({CHORUS} Dowaddywaddy) And asked me which way I would vote. “Is it Tory or Labour; Kinnock or Major?”
I said: They’re all really saying nothing, really saying nothing, {BOTH} Ba ba sooky do wah, ba ba sooky do wah.
2nd BIT
I was watching my TV,({CHORUS} Dowaddywaddy) John Major was lecturing me;({CHORUS} Oh yeh) “Avoid Labour’s double whammy,({CHORUS} Dowaddywaddy) And Paddy Ashdown’s handshake is clammy. If you want hope and glory, you should vote Tory”.
But: He was really saying nothing, really saying nothing, {BOTH} Ba ba sooky do wah, ba ba sooky do wah.
INSTRUMENTAL BIT (During the instrumental the following voiceover from Paddy Ashdown is rendered):
“We Liberals firmly believe that we are really saying something. And yet, in many ways we are really saying nothing. Vote Liberal, the only party prepared to state, quite categorically, that we aren’t really saying whether we are really saying something or not.”
3rd BIT
I then went to my town hall, ({CHORUS}Dowaddywaddy) Where Kinnock was giving his all; ({CHORUS}Oh yeh) “John Major is a creep, ({CHORUS}Dowaddywaddy) And Liberals prefer it with sheep. You will live longer later, linking with Labour”.
Cripes: He was really saying nothing, really saying nothing, {BOTH} Ba ba sooky do wah, ba ba sooky do wah.
{CHORUS}We’re all really saying nothing, really saying nothing, {BOTH} Ba ba sooky do wah, ba ba sooky do wah. 14 March 1992
Below is a video of the Velvelettes singing Really Saying Something:
Originally submitted to Spitting Image, 9 or 10 February 1992, I subsequently submitted it to NewsRevue.
Anything that worked to “I Will Survive” was automatically on John Random’s prohibited list, I later discovered, but I did eventually get a version of the song into NewsRevue, perhaps as late as October 1993 but I think probably before that too.
You can’t keep a good lyric down, John; this one is, in my view, quite a good lyric.
The following version is e-dated April 1992, so the original Spitting Image one might be lost for all time, but I doubt if I really changed it between February and April – just a tiny tweak I suspect, otherwise I’d have saved it as a revised version:
MRS T
(sung by Maggie Thatcher to the tune of “I Will Survive”)
VERSE 1
At first I was afraid; (yes, even Mrs T),
Was scared of living out my life without publicity;
But then I spent so many nights just watching “Grey Man” droning on,
And I grew strong; and I learned how to get back on.
So now I’m back, from outta space,
To find that people know my voice and they still recognise my face.
I should have sacked the bleeding lot, I should have left the EEC,
If I had known for just one second that they’d end up sacking me.
CHORUS 1
Oh yes it’s me,
I’m on TV,
Even though it’s only Channel 4,
Or sometimes BSkyB,
But I’ve got interviews to give,
So while I still can breath and live,
I’m on TV,
I’m on TV.
VERSE 2
I tried to warn you, John, about the EMU,
But now I fail to understand what people see in you;
Cos then you took me to one side and whispered softly in my ear,
That it was better for the party if I quietly disappear.
So I went back, across the sea,
Where I had organised a Brussels photo-opportunity.
Yes I went straight up to the top, because I’m never one to tarry,
And I tried to head-butt Jacques Delors and kneecap Ray McSharry.
For any completists out there who are still reading, here is the October 1993 version which was adapted for some hoo-ha around Mrs T’s memoirs or something:
MRS T – AUTUMN 1993
(sung by Maggie Thatcher to the tune of “I Will Survive”)
VERSE 1
At first I was afraid; (yes, even Mrs T),
Was scared of living out my life without publicity;
But then I spent so many nights just watching “Grey Man” droning on,
That I grew strong; and I learned how to get back on.
So now I’m back, and out in print,
My memoirs will be a best seller so I’m going to make a mint.
They detail how I discharged Howe, because he backed the EEC,
I’ve been voracious for revenge since those dumb bastards ousted me.
CHORUS 1
Oh yes it’s me, literally,
You know my book has been reviewed on Channel 4 and BSkyB;
And I have memoirs left to write,
That dump John Major in the shite,
I will revive, I will reprise.
VERSE 2
I tried to warn the public that John Major’s thick,
And that those arseholes Clarke and Lawson used to make me sick;
But then the Tory party magnets whispered softly in my ear,
That it was better for the party if I quietly disappear.
So I went home and wrote my book,
And now those jerks who tried to gag me are deep in the shtook,
You see my memoirs have a knack of making everyone look silly,
And they ought to circulate more quickly than Dave Mellor’s willy.
CHORUS 2
So no more blues, my book’s reviewed,
Even tho’ it’s one of seven in the Finchley Evening News;
But I’ve more paragraphs to draft,
Cos half my cabinet was daft,
I will surmise, I will surprise, hey, hey.
(People in white coats lead her away, saying “there there” and “just slip your arms into this nice little jacket”)
Today (1 January 2017) I received a text from John White which says:
…started singing Eugene Terre Blanche to the tune of Sweet Gene Vincent in the shower this morning. One of yours – can you Ogblog it when you get a chance as it’s now an ear worm!
Well, John, what are friends for?
I want to elaborate on this one at some stage as it’s one of my faves and there are some tales to tell. But Janie and I are off to the pictures now, so you’ll have to make do with the bare minimum for now, in order to de-worm your ear.
The version below was written before I discovered NewsRevue – I’ll write more about this lyric’s journey through NewsRevue later. The extraordinary thing, to me, is that the version below will be 25 years old in a few weeks time.
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:
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 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.
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:
