Music Words Biog Faq CV Home

Stamp and clap with scallops
Stamp and clap with scallops.
My old man’s dying wish
As we nailed his knackers* to a crate of rotting fish.
*Testes

My Poodle Cloud
My poodle cloud,
So dark and loud.
Bald pigs hamper my crampon style.
I bite into a bit and smile.

Life (huh?)
Life. Huh?
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothing.

Sausage sandwich garden
My fair to middling practice piddling
Never got me nowhere fast.
I washed in rage as page by page
My talent trundled trickling past.
My rental rivals dipped me
In a vat of free school dinners.
But, don’t be glum, I burnt me bum
And drank the painting thinners.

Albatross in the name of free speech 2
Don’t you just hate people?
They come in all misshapen sizes.
Their agenda isn’t hidden
Nor are cracks that come unbidden.

‘Neath so-friendly facades.
Lurk Marquis de Sades.

I turned on me teddy
I turned on my teddy bear
Wearing a thong.
The deaf alcoholic cried out for a song.
But, I wouldn't listen,
So make sure it's loud.
He wallowed in Spanish,
His head in a crowd.
While drinking his liquor,
He slipped fifty knicker
In through my back pocket
“Bedroll Lucy Locket”,
Was all I deciphered.
I don't even like her,
You hard-hearing viper.
Be gone with your boozing
Or soon I’ll be losing my mind and my minces.
“That's cockney for peepers”,
Intruded the keepers.
The teddy bear winces:
“Will you stop annoying?
And, deaf alcoholic,
Please don't be so cloying.
I love and adore you
So much that I bore you a teddy bear chiseller.
A smasher, a sizzler!
So take up your Rizzla™!
And fuck off back home”.

Fatfuck Canuck 2
Blinder was a sensuous thing.
We had a torrid inebriate fling.
Although she dumped me,
I love her to bits.
And, by the way, she had barnstorming tits.

A tale of three meeses
Three blind mice.
Three blind mice.
Have you any wool?
Have you any wool?

Of course not,
We’re fucking mice.

Like fathead, like dumb
I play my piano to a shamefaced goon.
I sing me songs to the man in the moon.
I write me words for none to hear.
Who gives damn ‘bout what I fear?

One fine day, some cunts might see
All this shit crapped out by me.
And, perhaps, pricks will agree
I was off me fucking tree.

Somebody to shove
I need somebody to shove
Around in an assholey way.
Magnet in me boxing glove
All the lovelorn day.

She don’t have to be purty
Or wear fancy threads
As long as she’s dirty
And gives perfect head.

C**ts in the country
I stopped a gay in old Strabane
To have a beef and kidney scan.
When suddenly, I hurt me knee
And felt the world divide in three.

I saw big bird from Sex-change Street
Caress a pound of unwashed meat.
It brought my sprits up so high,
I licked the pope from toe to eye.

The holy fat
Oh my dear sweaty one,
It’s you I really need
In my hour of greed
When nothing is good enough
And everything seems far too tough
With a pisstake summer
And headlice fire.
I don't want to bum her out,
But The Hunchback of Amsterdam pinched my spare tyre.

Lifestory
A freeloading, freebasing, freethinking freemason
Puked up his ring through a tube in the hand basin.
He was a worthless piece of crap.
Quite the loveless little sap.
Couldn’t flirt or get his hole,
Spent his best years on the dole.
But it has a happy end:
Slowly, he went round the bend.

Those we half loved

Micheline McCormack was a fucked-up anorexic beauty who ran off with a rich Nazi doctor. Clarabelle Cooling-systems was a pot-bellied pig who married an illegal pomanian dope-dealer.

Elephantine pome
An elephant is ...

As wrinkled as a stapler,
As stately as measles,
As slow as 16rpm,
As heavy as a fat bloke with lead in his pockets at the bottom of the deep blue ocean.

February twenty three (cunts get down on bandy knee)
I am a pig looking for an aardvark who is not afraid of hard work. The Octopus Orchestra lowered their banjos. The owls of the orphanage lit up a cow. We started to attack Iraq for bolloxing Burt Bacharach, who lost his shirt, whose balls were hurt by legions of the dainty sow, so comatose and saintly now that Doris Day denounced in verse while hurtling through the seldom worse. A token for our troubled minds, engorged by blood from tainted swine. Wonder if the world is mad. Sanity is underclad while brainy bastards wonder nude beneath the scorn of being screwed by schnookie salesman smoking crack while wanking postmen sneak-attack where nothing will not never cease and Clinton banged his neighbour’s niece. Stand back awhile and take your piles to Disneyland. Don't sweat it, man. Lick your own nips (because you can).