The Pharaoh

The Pharaoh who lives in our street
Declared himself to be god over all the earth
People honoured him with checks
His semi became full of opulent things

He isolated himself to enjoy his wealth
He no longer went outside except to lead his work-mates into battle
He loved his credit cards and when his tomb was finished
They were buried with him along with his cats and dogs

There’s a man

There’s a man who walks in front of a pair of scissors.
As he walks down the road they cut the road down the middle
Raw red blood cells ooze out of the wound
Doctors run bleeding behind him trying to stem the blood.

There is a siren sounding in the sky.
It is made from a round tin with a lid and a handle to turn.
Inside is a cat on heat.

In the room next to mine a group of giant grapes are angry at what god has done.
There’s a continuous echo of a working-class Sunday morning without enough love.
The grapes detach from the bunch and jump about.
A tiny man runs after them and smashes them with a hammer.

Light from the short winter day trickles in thru the window.
I rub it on my skin like a salve of everlasting life.

Trilobites

Trilobites need love the same as you or me.
The trilobite was wise, but its wisdom was wrong, wise and wrong;
Like a train driving along a track waved to by females from Greek theatre on their way to school.

The trilobite floated up to the moon at night and at daybreak floated back down into the sea.

Once, hearing a timid knock on the door I opened and in walked a trilobite soaking wet. It spoke with the sound of a small foundry and as it breathed out a small gas jet appeared above its head.

I read in the local paper about the mass extinction of trilobites.
That night they haunted my dreams where they got drunk, smoked pipes and made their peace with big John Wayne before he cantered through the neon mountains of the ocean floor on his cavalry horse
One day I went to the shopping market and everyone there had a pet trilobite on a lead.
I asked someone where they got them from and I was told they were a free offer in the local newspapers glossy weekly.
Lighting up my gas lamp I could see many of them had escaped and were hiding in the corners.

With the onset of WW1, the trilobites formed a regiment of their own and fought against the notorious U-boats, so feared by the enemy for collecting fingernails and toenail from which they made a crunchy snack.

Here in the is dialogue, I try to bring the trilobites back to life so that you may never forget the roll they played in our financial history. In eating our money and turning the national gold deposits into hay. And supporting charities like the homeless cockroach fund and free shaving kits for gorillas that we get in the post, the shaving kits that is, not the gorillas. There’s a law against that!

Isn’t it funny how having seen a fossilised trilobite you never forget it? But after a mass extinction, all that you have are the fossils.

The Bargain Hunt

Get on the bus
You’re going to the sale
You’ll grab what you want
Or you’ll go to jail

In wind, rain or hail
– It’s nice if it’s summer
But you’re a tough little
Bargain Hunter

Walk down the street
You’re in your territory
Push through the crowds
With your inventory

In flack, jack or hail
Bomb blast or junta
You’re a tough little
Bargain hunter

Get in the store
As you stalk through the crowds
Capture your bargain
Lay money down

Retreat to the bus stop
In glory and bunting
You’ve been successfully
Bargain hunting

You walk down the street
Feeling fine
a smile on your face
a tingling in your spine

You’re way up in outer space

Save your cash
For the sales next year
For books and toys
And fashion gear

There is no recession
Or eco slump
That can stop you
From the bargain hunt

Spike Milligan – Ying Tong Song

 

Spike Milligan lived in Jerico
when the walls came tumbling down
and as he Israelites scaled the walls
they heard this terrible sound

ying tang, ying tang, ying tang, ying tang
ying tang tiddle-i-fo, etc

Spike Milligan was a Mexican
at the battle of the Alamo
as Davy Crocket levelled his musket
he heard this tale of woe

Spike Milligan was a clockwork bird
when they landed in Normandy
as they grouped upon the shore
this song came over the sea

Spike Milligan had a granddad
who fought at Waterloo
and as Napoleon rode his white horse
he heard this crazy tune

Ghengis Khan and his Army
came to engage the foe
but one man alone stood on guard there
singing, Ying Tang diddle-i-fo

Spike Milligan was a genius
who joined the British Army
by the end of the second world war
they saw that he’d gone barmy

Singing

take me home, I feel lazy
I think the whole world’s gone crazy

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“That’s all for now, folks”