Tuesday, 19 October 2010

A Toast

Like Ruby Wax
And Margi Clarke
I say what I think when I talk out me arse.
And it's not always true,
Or based on fact,
It's just the thoughts that I've had when I've been on me back.
Like Marmite on toast,
You might not always like me,
But you'll find me on the shelves of supermarkets,
Up and down the country.
And I'm not going no where,
Like it or lump it,
Ignore me all you want or spread me on your crumpet.
There's a living to made,
And I've made my living well,
And if you don't bloody like it,
You can go to fucking hell!
Cheers!!!!

Monday, 9 August 2010

Lady Muck

I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty,
That's for sure!
I've cleaned my fair share of toilets in my time,
And let me tell you,
A bit of elbow grease never hurt no body!
If it needs doin'
It needs doin'!
And no bugger else is gonna do it for ya'.
You see, if you're skint,
Some one will always feed ya' my love,
But no one will pay your bills - that's your job!
Aye, there's no pity for the penniless
With ne gas or electric
And why should they fella?
You need to roll up your sleeves
And and get a decent days graft under your leather!
An if you cannit find a job
I'll find one for ya'
Oh, you can snigger,
Point yer finger
But I see no shame in what I do.
I won't be cleaning toilets forever!
And you remember that, next time you think your clever.
Be nice to people on your way up
And even nicer to those who wipe your arse for ya'!
I've seen the worst,
Book savvy, smarty pants
Still shit yourself when your caught by chance,
And it's Joe Muggins here that cleans it all up
Not the lavvy fairy!
Its me, on my knees in my marigolds.
I'm a good young lass,
With a brain to match,
And me tabards a sight for bleached eyes.
I'm not signing on,
Or depending on me Mam.
So watch your lip son shine
Cause I'm not work shy.
To get what ya want
You've got to clean a few bogs,
And I earn more than most lay abouts,
All swings and round-bouts
And in the end it's a job,
Well done!

Sunday, 8 August 2010

Canned Laughter

I’m just the canned laughter.
Tagging along to show the clown my support.
Hitting each working man’s club,
In silk shoulder pads and gold,
Cause we wouldn’t want him to die.
Would I.

He’s had the same set for 15 years.
Each rehearsed punch line like a time bomb.
Waiting to rip your mouth open,
Throw your heads back,
And laugh!
As he preaches funny to room full of hens in pink cowgirl hats
And I’m left watching G&T spilling out of the side of their mouths.

But hey,
Cathy’s clown couldn’t drink faster,
As his tears plop, one by one,
Into his own pint of bitter.
Because there’s not much to laugh about at home.
When the curtains have pulled back and the house lights are turned on,
And you realise there’s no glamour in the words he’s been poking,
Only truth in his witty observations.

He needs your laughter,
But hell I need it more.
You see,
Laughter is like petrol, that’ll last him the car journey home,
And the only punch line I’ll be getting,
Is in the morning when I have to explain to the kids,
I banged my face off the kitchen cupboard.
Again!
Because some bastard heckled him.

Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Lord and Lady Fisty Cuffs

Lord Fisty Cuffs, of Madison House
Thought it an idea to hit his spouse.
He blacked her eyes and broke her nose
Or so the fabled story goes.
But the Lord did not know,
As he bashed her about,
That Lady Cuffs could take his clouts.
She did not fight back,
But held her guard.
And later that night
Whilst the Lord was unarmed
She filled her pillow with bricks and steel,
And bashed the tyrant out onto the field
She showed him no mercy
With each lethal bout
And duelled him till the sun came out!
As he lay weeping,
Black and blue.
She poked his eye and threw her shoes
And said to him; "without a doubt,
If you touch me again I will have you out.
For the title of ‘Lord’ maybe yours for the taking,
But the money is mine,
And god-for-saking,
If I must stay with you for life
You’ll treat me as a precious wife
And spend our days in separate wings
Until you die of terrible things!"

Tuesday, 18 May 2010

Dancing With Marie

Her tounge is like a machine gun with fists
And it sputters into action
Giving ya’ 40 licks

Batmans belt couldn’t give ya’ so many lashes
When our kids out drinking with lasses

Medusa locks, all tongs,
Bounce and bob
Getting nasty on ya’ pasty
If you look at her wrong

With more back Lopez
She’ll knock ya’ into next week
Floats like butterfly
And stings like a bee

Ya’ Knar you’ve had a good night
When you’re dancin' with Marie.

Monday, 17 May 2010

Mr Cleaver.

Jesus Christ Almighty
My best friends Dad just seen is in me nighty
And I said out loud
In a high pitched tone
“My Dear Mr Cleaver, I’ve only a slip on”

Holy Mary Mother of God
He fell down the stairs to the sound of me gob
And he shouted out loud
In a whale and a scream
“Miss Johnson you are rude, now put it away”

So, Father please bless me for all of me sins
I’ll never wear a nighty that doesn’t cover me shins.

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

Sunday, 3 January 2010

Fish Tank Blues

I thought I could be naked
Skipping out the bathroom
Reading the Sunday papers
But, no!
A naked blow
No nuddy buddy
Naked in the snow
Dancing
No more.
New neighbours!

I thought I would be naked
Drinking tea exposed
Eating fizzy jellies and Quavers
But, no!
A stripped blow
No barren bums
In my fish tank bowl
Denuded
No more
New neighbours!