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Well, I hope this isn't too blasphemous, especially since it was meant with the best of intentions, but...
A few years ago, a friend and I had a little bar-band that played mostly covers, or humorous originals, and we were called THE BOOMTOWN FAT KING COLE DUO, and we came up with a parody of "I Don't Like Mondays" that we used to perform - here's the lyrics - it's called "They Don't Like Geldof" - Enjoy -
The Seven Day Stubble on his face, Gets rubbed with pensive hands, 'Cause no one's running to the record case, To look for New Wave Irish Bands, And Robert can't comprehend it, I mean he just doesn't understand, and he can see no reason, cause there is no reason, not to love this maaaaaan,
Tell Me Why! They don't like Geldof Tell Me Why! They don't like Geldof Tell Me Why! They don't like Geldof Because in truth, he ain't half bad...
When the Africans were just bones and skins He arranged the Live Aid thing and the Queenikins called him Sir Bob Because she couldn't call him King But music is his real passion, Such a shame they won't let him sing, And he can see no reason, Cause there is no reason, Not to be worshiping him oooooo,
Chorus
All recording stopped in the studio now, He wants to play the GUITAR A WHILE And soon he'll be bankrupt and lost INXS And the name of the song is The HAPPY CLUB And then the Rats broke up and he was stuck with good songs and no publicity, And he can see no reason, for there is no reason, To fire Pete Briquette....
Ah, thanks, guys! Wish you were at our shows! (We also did a straight cover of Rat Trap, and *once*, a gal from the audience got all excited about it - but most of the time, it was to mostly blank faces... and this in Irish bars, too!)
If the Boomtown Fat King Cole Duo ever gets back together, I'll let you guys know.
Another rework [with some of Bob's current thinking]
The silicon chip at ticketweb ain't reaching overload. And nobody's gonna phone them up today, Cos they're gonna stay at home. And Bobby doesn't understand it, He always said he was as good as gold. And he can see no reason 'Cause there are no reasons What reason do you need to be shown?
Tell me why? I don't like Bristol. Tell me why? I don't like Norwich. Tell me why? I don't like Sheffield. I want to shoot the venues down.
The server machine is kept so clean but it's hacked by the outside world. And Bobby feels so shocked, Cos his world is rocked, And his thoughts turn to his own little girls. Fifty three, but no one's seeing me, No, it ain't so neat to admit defeat. They can see no reasons 'Cause there are no reasons What reason do you need to be shown?
Tell me why? I don't like Bristol. Tell me why? I don't like Norwich. Tell me why? I don't like Sheffield. I want to shoot the venues down.
All the playing's stopped in the concert hall He wants to text with his phone a while. And school's out early and soon we'll be learning And the lesson today is how to cry. [boo hoo, no one wants to see me] And then the bullhorn crackles, and the promoter tackles all the problems and the how's and why's. And he can see no reasons 'Cause there are no reasons What reason do you need to cry off, oh oh oh
And the silicon chip at ticketweb ain't reaching overload. And nobody's gonna phone them up today, Cos they're gonna stay at home. And Bobby doesn't understand it, He always said he was as good as gold. And he can see no reason 'Cause there are no reasons What reason do you need to be shown?
Tell me why I don't like Bristol Tell me why I don't like Norwich Tell me why I don't like, I don't like I don't like Sheffield Tell me why I don't like, I don't like I don't like Gateshead [ooops, shouldn't have mentioned that!] Tell me why I don't like Leicester [Sod it, I'm on a roll]
Jules was a bit upset, that Geldof cancelled the Bristol gig, but she's got tickets for Nobhead Williams concerts at Wembley, next September, and let Geldof know.
Apparently now, Geldof will be performing this at Shepherd's Bush!
I've got a fan who is a girl, her name is Julie But last night she texted me, when I was watching telly This is what it read. She wrote "Listen Bob, I luv u but there's this bloke I fancy I don't want 2 2-time u so it's the end 4 u & me." "Who's this bloke?" I texted back. "Robbie " she replied "Not that puff" I texted dismayed. "Yes, but he's no puff" she lied "He's more of a man than you'll eva b" [eva b - get it - ah well....]
Here we go, Two, three, four!
I was so upset that I cried all the way to the chip- shop. When I came out, there was Robbie standing at the bus stop And guess who was with him, Yeah, Julie and they were both laughing at me. Oh, she is cruel and heartless, to pack me for Robbie Just 'cause he's better looking than me, Just 'cause he's cool and trendy. But I know he's a moron, Robbie is a moron Robbie is a moron, Robbie is a moron
Here we go, two, three, four!
Oh, she's a slug and he's a creep. She's a tart , he's very cheap. She is a slut, he thinks he's tough, she is a bitch, he is a puff. Yeah, yeah it's not fair, Yeah, yeah it's not fair I'm so upset, I'm so upset, Yeah, yeah!
I ought to smash his face in, yeah, but he's bigger than me, in "e" I know! I'll get my mate Bono to hit him, he'd flatten him! Yeah, but Bono's a mate of Robbies's in "e"! oh, well! I don't care, oh, I don't care, I don't care
Crikey! Morrissey just sent me this rework, ain't exactly pleased is he?
Panic on the streets of London Panic on the streets of Peterbrough I wonder to myself Will I ever see Bob play again ? The Norwich side-streets you don't come down I wonder to myself Hopes may rise up at Leicester But Honey Pie, you're not safe there So you run down To the safety of the town But there's Panic on the streets of Bristol, Gateshead, Sheffield, Glasgow I wonder to myself
Burn down the Empire Hang the blessed BG Because the music that he constantly plays It says nothing to me about my life Hang the blessed BG Because the music he constantly plays
On the Norwich side-streets you don't come down Provincial towns you mess around Hang the BG, Hang the BG, Hang the BG Hang the BG, Hang the BG, Hang the BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG Hang the BG, Hang the BG, Hang the BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG Hang the BG, Hang the BG, Hang the BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG HANG THE BG, HANG THE BG Hang the BG, Hang the BG, Hang the BG HANG THE BG
When you cut the Gypsy in ten pieces, you have not killed him: you have made 10 more gypsies.
Crap lyrics ARRGEE- you should get back to real work and please no asorbic response from you on this one. Me out of town, plugging the holy land however will wail for you and your lyrics at the wall.
Again? I've never replied to you before, have I? What other examples do you have?
Slim wrote:
Please no asorbic response from you on this one.
So I can't reply unless it's to your liking ? Not much point in a message board in that case. And I was hardly asorbic (sic) [I guess you mean ascorbic as in vitamin C, hardly biting!].
Anyway, why provoke me by putting my name in caps, SLIM, tell me my lyrics are crap and tell me to get back to work?
My lyrics were a bit of fun in light of the unforeseen circumstances in Geldof cancelling three concerts. If you don't see the humour in them, fine.