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Uffington Wassail - Half Man Half Biscuit
Oh say I'm not the only one to fill with trepidation
Walking across the forecourt of the fire station
My wariness consumes me yet still protects me from
The dimmer switch and the membership of Britannia music club
I adventured for a fortnight in the valley of the Rhone
Defied capricious mistrals on which tragedies are blown
Dismounting at the roadside to lubricate my chain
I heard the hounds of retribution barking their refrain
Let's go the met bar
And cause an altercation
Let's go the Groucho
And snap at rakish heels
For a month I went all floppy just to see where I'd end up
The morgue was my considered guess or maybe Martinique
The stern grind of reality however took
It's course
I stayed exactly where I was and suffered endless Feltz
Because you had a daughter and chose to call her rain
Because you didn't indicate to go down Woodchurch lane
Your am dram class has been postponed indefinitely
Because the root of Jesse's just turned up in glorious majesty
Singing sealed knot society let's see you try and do this one
Luton Town
Millwall
Nineteen eighty five
Hand me down my silver trumpets
Sound the revolution bell
There's a Cher impersonator
Rising up in Israel
Late lunch audience we've got all your addresses
Lazy greedy farmers pick your own strawberries
Is that our phone ringing or is it on the telly
Let's do the bongo laced twenty second album
Vreni Schneider
You're my downhill lady
Vreni Schneider
You're the queen of the slopes
Vreni Schneider
You're my downhill lady
Vreni Schneider
You're the queen of the slopes
