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1. |
Arthur Lowe
01:29
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Arthur Lowe
Arthur Lowe’s
The strangest body
Beneath his clothes
I mustn’t, though (but did you know)
He’s chicken’s thighs and pigeon toes
And nothing grows
On Arthur Lowe
No flies, no hair
Moustachioed
He still is though
A mystery is Arthur Lowe
Went to sea
Pea green boat
The owl, the cat
And Arthur Lowe
Lent him five notes
Well I’ll be blowed
The last I saw of Arthur Lowe
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2. |
Tally Ho!
01:57
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Now, you said it was yesterday, yesterday's another day
had a lot of make believe, I don't know if it's you or
if it's me oh, I don't know, I don't know
Tally ho, tally ho!
I'll meet you in your fantasy, just anywhere you can obey,
Ipsala, Bombay, this is the wrong way
cause he'll see you I'll go into shock, it's true
Tally ho, tally ho!
Ipsala, Bombay, this is the wrong way-
The third verse will be the same as the first!
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3. |
Wishing I Was Alfie Katz
04:15
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From Primley Park
To Shadwell Lane
The wheat don’t grow
Against the grain
He got woven hair
Like silk they say
‘I’m alright, Jack
The wife ok?’
Poor cousin Pete’s
Been thinking lately
He feels incomplete
Like he’s got itchy feet
Chews a William Hill pen
He’s wondering when
His present run of bad luck will end
He’d like to wax his moustache
And brylcream his hair
Wear a silk handkerchief
Yeah, he’d really take care
Spills his drink on the floor
So he pours himself more
He’s picking up the mess that he’s made
Poor Pete says he’s got big plans now
All he’s got to do is work out quite how
To get a shop of his own
Import fancy wares
Get a big leather desk
And a big leather chair
He’d tell a good joke
Drink malt whiskey and coke
A well respected man in the trade
Says he’ll get all the cash tomorrow
(A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend recommends)
Failing that, he’ll just beg steal or borrow
Poor cousin Pete
Is just so certain
Wants to prove ‘em all wrong
Knows it won’t take him long
Making plans for his immigration
Wife’s not keen on their expatriation
IMPORT EXPORT
(A friend of a friend of a friend recommends)
IMPORT EXPORT
(A friend of a friend of a friend recommends)
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4. |
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Looking for a three to make up a four
Looking for a three to make up a four
Looking for a three to make up a four
On a Saturday
The sun is shining outside
Sitting sipping coffee in the clubhouse
Sitting sipping coffee in the clubhouse
Sitting sipping coffee in the clubhouse
On a Saturday
The sun is shining outside
Thinks about a flutter on the horses
Likes to have a flutter on the horses
Always has a flutter on the horses
On a Saturday
The sun is shining outside
Going back home, wound right up
Going back home, wound right up
Going back home, wound right up
On a Saturday
The sun is shining outside
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5. |
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I was born a short haired boy
My mother’s pride and joy
And everywhere that mummy went
She’d take me and all
‘My boy is
Such a perfect specimen
With mummy’s eyes and chins
And bless his little cottons
With daddy’s short haired pins’
They took me up the high street
All the grannies billed and cooed
They hobbled all together
To stroke my scratchy follicles
‘Oh couldn’t you just eat him up,’
they said and licked their lips
I gurgled out in terror
But they did not take the hint
Mother was in tears
When my cowlick first appeared
The bristles became bushels
‘til they brushed down past me ears
‘My little boy’s a monster,’
She shivered in dad’s arms
He dragged me by the ankles….
To the barbers
Now I look so neat and smart
A little short haired work of art
Now I look so smart and neat
From my short haired head to my shoe shod feet
We’ll eat our crusts and leave the rest
We’ll sup our milk from short haired breasts
To grow the short hairs on our chest
Ho ho.
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6. |
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Alec Abrahams shuts the door behind him
Places down his things
His little piece of peace and quiet
In amongst the din
Puts the shopping in the cupboard
And a saucepan on the ring
And keeping one eye on his supper
In a quiet voice he sings
‘He’s the talk of Moortown Corner
And from here to Wigton Moor
Says that all the ladies know him
Every one of them adores
Alec Abrahams’
Alec Abrahams eats his supper
At a table set for one
His toast’s well buttered
But his boiled egg’s a little underdone
He reads the paper
As the eggs dries in a crust beneath his lip
But when he gets up
To take his plate and put it in the sink
He’s the talk of Moortown Corner
And the King of Queenshill Drive
Says that all the ladies know him
He’s the last one of his kind
Is Alec Abrahams
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Those Unfortunates London, UK
Those Unfortunates are a London, UK based four piece.
They sound harder than they sound.
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