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Wish That I Could Sleep

 

Stopped clock ticking on the wall

I wish that I could sleep

Toadstools croaking in the hall

I wish that I could sleep

 

Midnight church bells chiming, cars backfiring

Floorboards squeaking, dormice creaking

 

Shadows flicker on the bed

I wish that I could sleep

Black cat sitting on my head

I wish that I could sleep

 

And why on Earth did I employ that bloke

To play the flute outside my window?

 

Maybe I should drink some milk

And read myself a bedtime story

Maybe I should tell the nurse

To stop injecting me with coffee

Maybe I should close the door

And take the sign away

That says “Late Night Refrigerator Tipping Point”

Or maybe I should just turn off the siren

And stop sleeping in the garden

Where the owls and foxes

Screech and flap like scary witches

And the shrieking voices of the moon and stars

Go “Na na na na na na na na na na na na naa”

 

And, at dawn, the children wake

The smile of summer on their face

They leap and giggle like a bunch of

Ruthless Nazis keeping me awake

 

Bloody children (I wish that I could sleep)

Bloody children (I wish that I could sleep)

Keeping me awake

 

 

Rodney Normal

 

He wakes up on a Monday morning

He combs his teeth and lets the dog in

He feeds the pigeons in the pub

He says “Gaw Bennett” and “Rub a duck”

 

“Allo, Mrs Jones! How’s yer Mum? She alright, is she? Yer Mum? Yer Mum?”

 

He drives to work on a Union Jack

He works all day long and then he comes back

Two point four balls and a cricket bat

 

He looks a bit like David Hockney

He curses in his native mockney

 

“Clear off, you lot! Bugger off, you whelks!”

 

Salutes a picture of the throne

Then calls his beak on the rag and bone

 

“Wotcher, Harry! Comin’ down the pub? The pub? The pub? With yer Mum?”

 

He has a kip at a quarter to three

A battered scone and a fried cup of tea

Chim chim cheroo chim a chimmerney

 

Milk on

Cigarettes with milk on

‘Ullo John, how’s your Mum?

Is she still in hospital?

 

He buys his clobber at the cop shop

He wears a smelly Tommy Tank top

He stoops to read a mucky book

It’s quite a good one – let’s have a look!

 

“How’s yer father, then? Eh? Know what I mean? How’s yer father? And yer Mum.”

 

His Grandad fought in the Evelyn Waugh

Two fluffy dice on the lavatory door

He writes umbrellas to Channel 4

 

Bees on

Bowler hats with bees on

Warm cheese and cabbages

Lager pie and mackerels

 

Wheels on

Brigadiers with wheels on

Stonehenge and radishes

Morris-dancing cockerels

 

Smells on

Berkshire Hunts with smells on

Raw tripe and thra’pennies

Better tuck your manners in

 

Bells on

Eartha Kitts with bells on

Now pull the other one

It’s got nuts and spanners in

 

Rodney Normal (x4)

 

 

Beef Scarecrow

 

Once, long ago

In England’s pleasant past

Upon a field of hammers

Stood a scarecrow made of meat

His legs were made of livers

And his head was made of lips

A single cow’s eye glistening in the middle of his face

 

He stood in a field of hammers

He stood in a field of hammers

A field of hammers that all went rusty in the rain

 

All winter long

He scared the crows away

It wasn’t just the crows though

It was dogs and kids as well

And even Hell would shudder

When he opened up his mouth

And a terrible sound like the dying throes of pensioners came out

 

He stood in a field of hammers

He stood in a field of hammers

A field of hammers that all went rusty in the rain

 

And when the summer came

His flesh began to rot

The stench was so repugnant

That the military were called

 

They cordoned off the field

And blew it all to bits

The only remnant of him

Was a charred and blackened heart

 

And out of respect

We planted it in the earth

And from that tiny heart

Grew a mighty tree of tripe

 

And every single year

We gather at the tree

We all link hands around it

And we do a Spanish dance

 

 

Dawn of the Maggots

 

Mummy, Mummy, can you see the sun?

He’s got his hat on, his coat and scarf as well

What’s he trying to hide, Mum? Is he a spy, Mum?

Yabba dabba, dabba doo

Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight

Red sky all day, Shepherd runs away

These days, there’s only one blackbird

For every four and twenty pies

Yabba dabba doo

 

I am ashamed of what we have become

We are the maggot men

Dangling on the end of the fishing rod of time

Angling for the tadpoles of eternity

 

And what if I could fly? I’d fly away

Like a sparrow flying south to find the sun

Where even crows won’t fly, out into Space

Where I’ll transform into the God of everyone

Like when the maggot turns into a butterfly

 

BOY: Merry Christmas, Mummy.

MUMMY: Merry Christmas, son. Aren’t you going to open your present?

BOY: Why, certainly, Mummy.

 

(Sound of present unwrapping)

 

BOY: Oh. It’s a tab of acid. Thank you, Mummy.

MUMMY: You’re welcome. Aren’t you going to play it for us?

BOY: Yes, Mummy. I’ll try.

 

 

Noon of the Maggots (a.k.a. Seafood Medley)

 

"'Ey up!"

 

All hail the Frog King

Um ribbit kwok

 

Here come the Frog King (x4)

 

And he’s waltzing with a pink parasol

And his body bloated up like a doll

He looks funny when he’s eaten a smell

And he crab a lolly fishwife a bell

 

Don’t forget to brush your teeth on a Sunday

Or the whelk sultan will kick your head in

Don’t forget to brush your teeth on a Sunday

Or the whelk sultan will kick your head in

 

Fish Queen, ah ah ah ah ah

Fish Queen, ah ah ah ah ah

 

Crab emperor, crab emperor

Fish Queen

Crab emperor, crab emperor

Fish Queen

 

The Prawn God laughing at me from a purple sky

His orange face looks like a steak and kidney pie

He starts to dribble but doesn’t tell me why

 

 

Dusk of the Maggots

 

The sky rips open like a crappy bag

A million billion maggots tumble through the gap

And we daren’t even scream or they’ll fall in our mouths

Yabba dabba, dabba don’t

The hip bone connected to the thigh bone

The frog bone connected to the fly bone

Run, run, Chicken Licken, run and tell King a Ling Long

King a lang a loo

 

And what if I could fly? I’d fly away

Like an eagle in the cockpit of a bomb

Where even swans daren’t fly, right through the sun

And it won’t hurt me because I am your God

Like when the maggot turns into a butterfly

 

Maggots in my left leg

Maggots in my right

Maggots in the darkness

Maggots in the light

Maggots in my brain cracks

Maggots in my thighs

Maggots in my cold, shaggy belly

Maggots under a beef red sky

 

Maggots (x64)

 

Mummy, Mummy, look at the sea

It looks like a big pile of hooves and brains and tails and eyes and claws and fins

Like meat, Mummy, it looks like meat, like meat, like meat

Mummy? Mummy? Where are you, Mummy?

MUMMY!

 

 

Michael the Swan

 

Say, have you heard of Michael the Swan?

He’s really good is Michael the Swan

I’d never heard of Michael the Swan

Until I heard of Michael the Swan

I fell in love with Michael the Swan

He’s really cool is Michael the Swan

Ooh, get a load of Michael the Swan

Hip hip hooray for Michael the Swan

 

He’s my favourite cartoon character from all the TV shows

That haven’t really been on telly in real life at all

 

I wanna touch him, Michael the Swan

I wanna see him, Michael the Swan

I wanna be him, Michael the Swan

I think I am him, Michael the Swan

Ooh pretty pretty, Michael the Swan

Ooh kissy kissy, Michael the Swan

 

He’s better than being kicked in the stomach by a dwarf

Or being garrotted by an evil Chinese henchman

 

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Yeah! Ooh, yeah!

 

Michael, Michael, we all love you

Michael, Michael, be our Daddy

Michael, Michael, you’re so funny

Michael, please replace our Mummy

 

He’s a wonderful role model for the kids

Even though he smokes fags and drinks

And he looks like a skull in a nest of mince

In a boat of flame on a toxic lake

 

Ooh, ooh, look at you

Swanning around like Fu Manchu

He’s a swinging queen, he’s the voodoo wiz

And I know he’s brill cos everybody says he is

 

Michael, Michael, we all praise you

Sing Hosanna in excelsis

He’s made of bread (x2)

Got a beard of bread (x2)

 

A slice of pork on his head (x4)

Amen

 

 


Lyrics by Waen Shepherd 2005-2006
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Beef Scarecrow
Lyrics: Norman, I've Dropped My Cup of Tea (2013)
Lyrics: Beef Scarecrow (2005-2006) - Page 1