Fish

Fancy a bop? Well, crank this on up and off you go. A bit more disco for you.

Could be the title track off the new album unless I change my mind.


Right click here to download this track

It’s not that I don’t care
Or that I never tried
You left me anyway
You never told me why
You know it really hurt
You know you turned the knife
But I got over you
And got on with my life

(There’s other fish to fry)
If you will only try
Some people make you cry
So pick yourself back up
Go on and try your luck

It’s a bad idea to
Feel sorry for yourself
Get back up on your feet
And find somebody else
Take my advice
And get on with your life
Because someone like that
Will never treat you right

(There’s other fish to fry)
I‘ve been through it too
When someone has hurt you
And I know what it’s like
Find one who’ll treat you right

You think you’re on your own
And that nobody cares
But I am here to tell you
That there’s life out there
One day you will look back
And look at what you had
You’ll see what you’ve got now
Is really not that bad

(There’s other fish to fry)
People will break your trust
People will make you cry
But that doesn’t mean
That you should never try
You’re better off alone
Than with someone like that
And you don’t need someone
That’s treating you like crap
Pick yourself back up
And get on with your life
And find somebody else
Who’s gonna treat you right

There’s other fish to fry

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Filed under Pop, Techno

Andrew Lloyd Webber

Continuing in the punk vein after ‘Happy Birthday’ here’s jolly little ditty explaining why I really, really wouldn’t want to be anyone else – especially Andrew Lloyd Webber!

Not sure which part of my brain this was spawned in, but there you go! Crank up the volume and enjoy.


Right click here to download this track

I wouldn’t wanna be
Andrew Lloyd Webber
Wouldn’t mind the money
But I wouldn’t wanna be him
I quite like
Writing my own songs
They might not be ‘Evita’
But at least they’re quite fun

I wouldn’t wanna be
Simon Cowell
Wouldn’t mind the money
But I wouldn’t wanna be him
I’d might like
Being famous
But not wearing
Trousers like his

I wouldn’t wanna be
Jeremy Clarkson
Wouldn’t mind the money
But I wouldn’t wanna be him
I quite like
My beat up old jalopy
I wouldn’t wanna drive
Shit like him

I wouldn’t wanna be
David Beckham
Wouldn’t mind the money
But I wouldn’t wanna be him
I don’t wanna
Bend it like Beckham
Football’s boring
Can’t stand his wife

I wouldn’t wanna be
Anyone but me
Might not have the money
But I’m happy what I got
I’m really glad
I’m not Andrew Lloyd Webber
And no-body knows
Who the hell I am!

I quite like writing
My own stuff
It might not be ‘Phantom’
But at least it’s not long

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Filed under Punk

Happy Birthday

If you thought the last post was something different, then you ain’t seen nothing yet.

I am indebted to my good friend the Flaxen Saxon for the lyrics for this piece of lunacy and mayhem. I’ve no idea what part of his head these ‘lyrics’ came from. I shamelessly nicked them of his blog, changed them around a bit and then wrote some music around them.

Any queries should be addressed to him. I’ve not got a clue what it’s about but if people like Stevie Winder and McCartney can write birthday songs, then I reckon it’s my duty to do the same.

Who knows? Could become a standard!


Right click here to download this track

May the candles on your cake
Burn like cities in your wake.
Your servants steal, your wife’s untrue
Your children plot to murder you
Burn the castle and storm the keep
Kill the women, but save the sheep
Birthdays come but once a year
Marking time as Death draws near

It’s your Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Doom and gloom and dark despair
People dying everywhere!
On your Birthday! Happy Birthday!

Now you’ve aged another year
Now you know that Death is near
Now that you’re the age you are
Your demise cannot be far
Black Death has just struck your town
You yourself feel quite run-down
Burn, then rape by firelight
Add romance to life tonight

It’s your Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Just be glad the friends you’ve got
Haven’t found out you-know-what
On your Birthday! Happy Birthday!

Indigestion’s what you get
From the enemies you ‘et
Baked or broiled or in a stew
We love children, yes we do
While you eat your birthday stew
We will loot the town for you,
We brought linen, white as cloud
The women sit and sew your shroud

It’s your Birthday! Happy Birthday!
May your deeds with sword and axe
Equal those with sheep and yaks
On your Birthday! Happy Birthday!

This one lesson you must learn
First you pillage, then you burn
I’m a leper, can’t you see
Have a birthday kiss from me
It’s your birthday never fear
You’ll be dead this time next year
So far Death you have bypassed
But don’t look back, he’s gaining fast

It’s your Birthday! Happy Birthday!
When you’ve reached this age you know
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
That the mind is first to go
It’s your Birthday ! Happy Birthday!
You are very, very old
Happy Birthday! Happy Birthday!
Soon you will be dead and cold
It’s your Birthday Happy Birthday!

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Filed under Humour, Pop, Punk

Ghosts

And now for something completely different…

The last few songs have been a bit electric and up tempo and I’ve kinda neglected the softer side of things so here’s an accoustic number with lyrics again by my friend Tony Groves. Hope you like it.


Right click here to download this track

Surely ghosts don’t ache in places

They don’t have places

Or hands or faces
The dead don’t walk upon the ground

They can’t be found

And make no sound

Spirits do not breath the air

Or comb their hair

Or sit and stare
Yet wandering, unheard, unseen

As in a dream


A ghost of living flesh and bone

Sat all alone

So all alone
Among six billion souls or more

Hear them roar

Outside my door

Lost and lonely, sight unseen
Alone and lost a daily theme
Their thoughts their own and must remain
Like a needle in the brain

The dead no longer rage or weep

Way down deep

Deep in their sleep
Surely ghosts don’t feel the pain

Or go insane

The dead no longer howl or cry

Choke and sigh

Their eyes are dry
Surely ghosts don’t miss this life

Or emotion’s knife

Or all the strife

Spirits do not breath the air

Or comb their hair

Or sit and stare
Yet wandering, unheard, unseen

As in a dream


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Filed under Accoustic, Lyrics by Tony Groves

Dark Place

An uptempo blues song about loneliness and despair and cheery stuff like that with lyrics by my good friend Tony Groves and a video by my usual video producer, Dioclese.

Turn the volume up and rock along! Enjoy it and try not to get too depressed.


Right click here to download this track

Sometimes I go to a dark place
I go there all alone
I hear no friendly voices
Not even on the phone
The dark place isn’t cosy
Bed of nails cold
Makes me feel lonely
Crushed and sad and old

No walls or locks to hold me
The darkness has to keep
A dungeon in my head space
Awake or fast asleep
Dark place full of torture
Thoughts both old and new
Dreams a jagged landscape
Chilled as morning dew

Killers serve their time out
Whilst robbers they walk free
Life sentence no remission
The dark place gave to me

The dark place is my prison
A jail built just for me
Dark place a heavy curtain
Through which I cannot see

Though searching for the sunshine
Those rays of hope and joy
The dark place drops the shutters
That’s not for you my boy

Sometimes I go to a dark place
I hear no friendly voices
Alone in my dark place

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Filed under Blues, Lyrics by Tony Groves, Rock

Dreary Dreary Me

Another collaboration with my favourite lyric writer, Tony Groves.

Tony reckons I like songs about misery and drinking and stuff like that and I suppose he might have a point. The way I look at it is that I write about things that interest me or that I have experience of. I avoid love songs unless they’re vitriolic. Mainly because even though I have a wonderful wife, I’m just no good at them! They always come out as syrupy crap.

So here’s another song about misery and drinking. Thanks, Tony.


Right click here to download this track

Alcohol for dinner
Alcohol for tea
Deary deary deary
Deary deary me.
Another weekend vanished
Disappeared in boozy mist
Deary deary deary
Deary deary pissed.

When the darkness falls and the black dog bites
And the days seem hard but harder the nights
When hope is far and despair too near
And nothing is left but worry and fear
When nightmares are all you get from sleep
And you wake at dawn and start to weep
When your trust in people has crashed on a reef
And a loved one smiles and kicks you in the teeth

Didn’t eat at all day
No not a single crumb
Deary deary deary
Deary deary dumb.
Booze, it is my downfall
Or is it my fall down
Deary deary deary
Deary deary clown.

When friends turn away and leave you in pain
And your heartbeat’s thunder and your tears like rain
When karma deals you another dead hand
And your plans go awry like a rocket unmanned
When you can’t see the point of waking each morn
And you try to be brave though feeling forlorn
When fate takes away that last friendly face
And even your God will show you no grace

Why can’t I take it easy
And just apply the brakes
Deary deary deary
Deary deary shakes.
I sees to me I cannot stop
No, no no matter what
Deary deary deary
Deary deary twat!

It doesn’t make me clever
Doesn’t make me tough
Deary deary deary
Deary deary rough…
I promise I won’t drink again
Until the day I die
Oh deary deary deary
Such a deary deary lie!

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Filed under Lyrics by Tony Groves, Pop, Rock

Old Gits

With the “One for the Road” album now completed, it’s time to work on something new – so I thought I’d kick off with a bit of electronic dance music – or ‘disco’ as we old farts used to call it.

Anyway, here it is complete with a video produced by my good friend Dioclese so David Guetta, Sophie ellis-Bextor and the Pet Shop Boys eat your heart out!


Right click here to download this track

Growing old disgracefully
Is what I want to do
To spend the kids inheritance
And sink a pint or two
To spit and swear and grow my hair
It seems a simple plan
To not care when they tell me
I’m a dirty little man
I’ve grown a little thin on top
I’ve grown a pony tail
I’m wearing jeans like Clarkson
I’m simply having fun
There is no point in growing old
If you don’t let down your hair
And liven up your small talk
With a swear word here and there

I haven’t got a smartphone
I don’t know what one’s for
My daughter tried to give me one
But I dropped it on the floor
She’s trying to keep track of me
She thinks that I can’t tell
I don’t know what an app is for
But a nap would suit me well
They reckon I’ve gone senile
Little do they know
I’ve still got all me marbles
I’m an awkward so and so
And when things get unpleasant
I simply blank them out
And make out I don’t understand
Or yell and scream and shout

I used to be a rocker
Way back in me youth
There’s still one deep inside me
If you want to know the truth
The youngsters haven’t got a clue
Reckon they invented fun
And apart from the arthritis
This later life’s quite fun!

My kids think I’m a reprobate
They think I’m in a state
But I’ve never had it better
And life is really great
People make allowances
For all the things I do
But I’ve still got all me faculties
And I’ve learned a thing or two
You can get away with murder
You can do just what you want
They think you’re old and senile
Don’t tell them it’s a front
Buy your clothes at Oxfam
And don’t let on what you’ve got
Let ‘em think you’re hard up
Or they’ll fleece you for the lot

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Filed under Pop, Rock, Techno