The Fairytale of Christmas

Every year now for several years, I’ve produced a (hopefully) humorous Christmas song. This year, it’s an adaptation of the Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York”. It’s a good song – the original, I mean – so hopefully I’ve not desecrated it too much!

Here it is with a video by my good friend Dioclese :


I’ve had too much to drink
I’ve thrown up in the sink
The party’s over and
They’ve all gone home
The Christmas spirit’s gone
And so’s the beer and wine
We had a smashing time
I least I think we did

The ads on telly
All try to tell me
It’s a time for giving
And not for holding back
I need to spend and spend
And I’ll feel better then
But the shops are full of tat
And I’ve had enough of that

I wonder why we do it
It’s the same crap every year
I wish we pulled the plug
On Christmas time

Thank God that’s it’s Christmas
For only one day
Though it goes on forever
Or that’s how it seems
It starts in September
Goes all through December
It peaks in November
With Black Friday week

There’s beer in my belly
The flat’s rank and smelly
There’s fuck all on telly
But loads of old crap
It’s after the party
I’m bloated and farty
The place smells of vomit
And stale cigarettes

I wonder why we do it
It’s the same crap every year
I wish we could call time
On Christmas Day

It’s great when it’s over
We’re glad when it’s done
We can all stop pretending
That we’re having fun
The new year is coming
We’re on our last legs
As we look forward to Easter
And Cadbury’s Cream Eggs

There’s wine on the carpets
And beer on the chairs
And someone’s thrown up
On the foot of the stairs
There’s a man with a hammer
Going nuts in my head
And I found someone’s knickers
When I went to bed

I wonder why we do it
It’s the same crap every year
It’s time we pulled the plug
On Christmas time

And when September comes
We start it all again
It’s such a waste of time
It really is a crime…

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Filed under Humour, Pop

Born Under a Bad Sign

Final track off the ‘Cutting Up Rough’ album is a traditional blues song covered by many artists including the inimitable Cream. I’m sure you’ve heard it before, but I love blues music and this is one of the best in my opinion so I couldn’t resist recording it. Hope you enjoy it.

So that’s it for this album and I’m working on the next one with three tracks in the can already.

If you like my stuff, then please listen to me on Spotify which is a free streaming service (if you like adverts!) and I get a few pennies in royalties. A very few but every little helps!

Born under a bad sign
I been down since I began to crawl
Born under a bad sign
I been down since I began to crawl
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all

Hard luck and trouble is my only friend
I been on my own ever since I was ten
Born under a bad sign
I been down since I began to crawl
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all

I can’t read, haven’t learned how to write
My whole life has been one big fight
Born under a bad sign
I been down since I began to crawl
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all

If it wasn’t for bad luck
You know I wouldn’t have no luck at all

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Ballad of the Band

Dedicated to all those days and nights pounding up and down the road from gig to gig – or as we used to call it “The road to nowhere”. Crappy little run down pubs and club, playing cards on a drum case in the dressing room (the gents’ toilet normally) and flogging, in those days, old vinyl 45 demo disks out the back of an old transit van afterwards.

Happy days. Maybe.

Driving down the road at the wheel of my car
Heading for a gig in a run down bar
I make a little money – it don’t go far
Still keep playing – looking for the big break

Smell the stench of urine in the dressing room
Practicing the chords of some tired old tune
The man on the mike will be calling me soon
Art of arts sake – money for gods sake

Stepping on stage with my battered old guitar
Lights are in my face and I can’t see far
Playing “drinking whiskey from an old fruit jar”
Some times I wonder how much more I can take

That’s the ballad of the band
Playing music whenever we can
That’s the ballad of the band
The ballad of the band

You won’t make money as a covers band
You gotta hold the punters in the palm of your hand
‘til you got yourself a name all over this land
We think about tomorrow when we do it all again

The stuff we are playing – well at least its our own
People seem to like it so at least we’re not alone
And when the gigs over and we’re packing the van
We’re flogging our CDs to the passing fans

That’s the ballad of the band
The ballad of the band

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Filed under Blues, Rock

Drifting Blues

Another blues inspired by the shitty divorce from my shitty ex-wife who, basically, treated me like shit.

Not that I’m bitter in any way you understand. I’m well over that – but we do draw from our experiences in life don’t we?

You know I was drifting
You know that I was lost
You know I was drifting
Said I was lost
I thought I’d found my way
I didn’t count the cost

You cheated and you lied
And took me for a fool
You now you cheated and you lied
You took me for a fool
But now I know just what you are
I can see right through you

You were happy spending money
That you took from me
You know you were happy spending that money
That you took from me
I didn’t know what you were doing
I was too blind to see

I hope that you’ll be happy
Like we used to be
You know I hope that you’ll be happy
The way we used to be
Now you found another loser
And you set me free

Well I’m happy that it’s over
And I’m not with you
Yes I’m happy that it’s over
And I’m just not with you
I found somebody better
And I don’t need you

Yeah I’m happy that it’s over
And I don’t have you

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Do Your Own Thing

I wrote this because I got a bit sick and tired of people telling me what to think and do, so it’s a bit of a slow blues about independence.

They call me a black sheep
‘Cos I don’t fit in
But I don’t really care what people think of me
Got my standards
How I live my life
Don’t give me no hassle and I won’t give you no strife
Do your own thing
Find your own way in life

Don’t wanna grow old
Gracefully
Life’s for the living’s how it seems to me
Gotta have me some fun
Gotta live each day
You’re a long time dead that’s what people say
Do your own thing
You won’t find no better way

Spent a few good years
Working for the man
All I got was a packet of pay in my hand
Got no respect
And I got no thanks
Just wanted a home and some money in the bank
Do your own thing
Live your life your way

I got grey hair
And my knees are shot
And I’m scraping by on the little I got
Sometimes gets me down
Sometimes I feel fine
Gonna live every minute till I run outa time
Do your own thing
Who cares what other people say?

Got me a pal
Worked to 65
Saved up his money for retirement time
Gave him a party
And a fancy clock
But he died the next day from a heart attack
Do your own thing
You’re a long time dead

My daddy told me
How to live my life
I ignored every word of his fine advice
Seems to me
Gotta find your own way
And take no notice of what other people say
Do your own thing
Get it through your head

And if you disagree
What I’m telling you
Is make up your mind and do things your own way
Can’t please everybody
So just please yourself
Life’s too short to worry what others might say
Do your own thing
Live your life your way

Do your own thing
Who cares what they say
Do your own thing
Live your life your way
Do your own thing
Get it through your head
Do your own thing
You’re a long time dead
Just do your own thing
That’s the way to go

Do your own thing…..

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Everybody’s After My Money

Do you every have one of those days when you get bombarded with unsolicited junk mail and loads of spam on your email. Or maybe there’s some bloke in Nigeria with $20,000,000 that some rich dictator has salted away he wants you help him launder.

Then just as you feel you’re about to scream, the phone rings and some tosser t trying to ask you about that accident you never had, or the PPI you were mis-sold or, even better, you answer and there’s nobody there at all?

Well, if you’re having one of those days then here’s another track off Cutting Up Rough that was written just for you. Pour yourself a stiff drink, kick back and enjoy!

I get a load of email every single day
Saying life would be much better if I just did things their way
I could settle by instalments or stick on my card
And for such a great improvement it’s a tiny price to pay
The offers are quite tempting it’s sad to have to tell
They’re tailored to my every need and suit me very well
It’s amazing how they seem to know exactly what I need
I suspect that they’ve been plugging into my Twitter feed
Everybody’s after my money
Seems to me that it’s rather funny
Everybody’s after my money

They say that I could lose three stone by eating diet food
But it gives me diahorrea and gets me running to the loo
And then there was this coupon site that promised me cheap booze
So I thought I might give that a try I’ve nothing much to lose
They said a simple survey was all I’d need to give
To unlock lots of coupon codes and save me loads of quids
But after forty pages I was getting pretty bored
And they’re using all the info to flog me even more
Everybody’s after my dosh
All feeding me a load of old tosh
Everybody’s after my money

I get a load of phone calls from a bloke in Bangla Desh
Sometimes there’s no one there at all it’s really quite a mess
The ask me about accidents I’ve never even had
And they say they’ll make a claim for me – it makes me really mad
It seems I could make loads of dosh from missold PPI
It’s a shame I never had some but it’s always worth a try
They say that there’s no win no fee which seems quite odd to me
‘Cos I can’t believe the buggers would do anything for free

I’m always on the lookout for a way to make some lolly
A business opportunity that that doesn’t look too funny
It seems there’s this dictator that’s died somewhere out east
And it all looks very dodgy to say the very least
His widow wants to give be dosh to get in her hod
And she’ll give me a percentage as a sweetener for the job
It’s looking very simple she just needs my bank account
And when she’s got my password she will empty it all out
Everybody’s after my dough
No way they’re gonna get it though
Everybody’s after my money

There’s an offer on my broadband that will give me greater speed
There’s a cheaper car insurance that will meet my every need
There’s sales in every shop I see when I walk out my door
And everyone is telling me that I could save much more
There’s not a price on anything just how much money’s off
And I’ve got a dozen credit cards that pay each other off
They give balance transfers that come with interest free
So I never pay for anything and that sounds good to me
Everybody’s after my money
Welcome to the land of milk and honey
Everybody’s after my money
You know I think it’s kinda funny
That why they’re all giving it their bunny
I ain’t got no money!

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Filed under Blues, Pop, Rock

Snow on the Roof

Sometimes I’m told I’m a bit long in the tooth for the malarky, but I’m a lot younger than people like Mick Jagger, Clapton, Cliff and many others of my generation so I’ll just ignore all that and keep going anyway ‘cos I love the music.

So much so in fact that I wrote this song. And it seems that there’s a few people out there who agree with me because it’s getting a good few plays on Spotify and the other streaming sites.

I got the rock
I got the roll
I got the music down in my soul
I got the rhythm
I got the blues
Ain’t nothing else will do

Give me the beat that moves my feet
That makes me wanna dance
But don’t you tell me that I’m too old
‘Cos this is what I’ll say to you

There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar
I love that rock ’n’ roll
Listen to me I gotta tell ya
There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar

I got the moves
I got the beat
I got those dancing feet
I got the style
I got the scene
Don’t you know what I mean?

Give me the rhythm give me the blues
There’s nothing else will do
But don’t you tell me that I can’t rock
‘Cos I’ll carry on until I drop

Give me the beat that moves my feet
And gets down in my soul
There’s just one thing that I’ll never be
I’ll never be too old

There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar
And you’re never too old to rock
You won’t stop me ‘cos I tell ya
There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar

There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar
And I love that rock ’n’ roll
Listen to me I gotta tell ya
There’s snow on the roof
But there’s a fire in the cellar

A fire in the cellar

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Filed under Blues, Rock