[Bonzo Dog]

Teddy Boys Don't Knit (V. Stanstall)

With thanks to Bob Kruse.
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King Kripple

- I gotta stump-legged lady to thump out the backbeat bump.
I gotta bald-headed bassman 'cos he really hits the ceiling when he jumps,
I gotta fat johanna player oughta hear him howl hosannah when he swings...
He doubles harp and harpsichord . . . but if he's feelin' bored -
For a treble he will double chins.

I'm King Kripple in the band and everybody is the jerker in the pack.
We gotta hunch-backed drummer just in case we get too laid back.
We say the world's a pavement oyster ...
So we're gonna hoist a Union Jack.

The lead guitarist is a pigmy and shortly he'll quick rig me up a riff.
The roadie gets his rocks off - but if he whips his socks off - don't whiff,
'Cos his feet are that athletic . . . he's a walking anaesthetic for the blues. .
And it's amazing how he sways to the 'Kripple Band' off-stage
In 7" high, high stacked smellin' shoes.

The audiences panic when my saxist schitzophrenic blows.
He's a double-headed giant and he calls himself Briant and may . . . be. . .
You'll half believe it when be lights up -
Stuffs two saxes in his gob and goes."

After a good deal of Suetenius-sapping and Graves-digging
your historical roman. Still discombobulated? You won't be when you hear:


Trousers, wowsers, dungarees and jodphurs,
Trying to find a pair to fit.
Knickerbockers, plus-twos, easy-breezes,
Legless in a bottomless pit.

Up jumped the trousers and they mortified the guests.
At least they didn't make a smell - for that we all are blessed.
Up jumped the trousers, knickerbockers in a twist?
The dog is stuffed stiff 'n' dead; but I'm a ventriloquist.

All of a blooming sudden the wind began to growl,
All of a blooming sudden the ghost began to howl:
"And when I find my trousers I'll find my feet,
Discover my logs, for the first time - I'll walk my Gums.
(By your lamp post)
Then when your sleeping Humbert's ghost will creep - (Up on you)
And steal your teeth. And when I land a pair to fit - I dream:
I'll walk my dog - I'll bow-wow-wow . . . (On your lamp post)
And upright folk will say, 'That dog he's alright - he won't bite.
He's dead."

Slave Valse

I'm moved to tell you of my love for Claude -
'E has us all in stitches and cages - in riches or rages
One big advantage is with Claude you're never ever bored.
'Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus' - Jupiter! Who are ye the noo?
"I'm Claw . . . claw . . . claw . . . claw . . . claw . . . claw . . . claw,
I'll call you Claude.
'E liked that 'e's right homely too.
Just like normal people, he likes his food -
A tickle too much, I don't wish to be rude ...
But he likes me to sing as he chucks and he throws
A vast vomit-oratorio . . . tralala ...
In many respects he is very fair - dispatching his, dispatching her.
He's writing a history but reading romance by Barbarian Cartland
Oh! Oh! I'm ordered to dance. . .
That minx Messalina is pushing her luck -
Behaving the bawd - not giving a flying one.
That lynx should be thrown to the hippos at least,
She'd be right at home - she's a right filthy beast,
But my Claude is so blinkered with booze and so kind,
He's a real artiste with an amusing red wine.
A priest of 'let bygones' - tho' brutes may scoff ...
Claude, if he likes 'on, let's 'em off.
Once clocking a triumphal crocodile do - my Caesar quite jolly,
Well, 'e'd 'ad 'ad a few. 'E boggles Caractacus biting his chains -
Roaring disdain - but admiring the drains.
Our system of sewage is best beyond doubt.
Claude stammers: "That b ... b ... bloke, is he froggie or kraut?"
A limey, my Lord, sometimes called 'Caradoc'.
Old Claude leaned forward and yelled, "Blimey" and "Watcha cock!
The limey replied with a very cracked tongue.
I thought 'e's blown it now, by gum.

Is he off to the circus for cakes games and fun?
"No, no" laughs old Claude, "I like the cheek of that bum."
Shouts Claude, "You're free and whatever you've done -
Don't do it again. Enjoy the sun."
'Up yours" and gosh! - Ingrate English toad.
"'E's a good lad" said Claude. "underneath all that woad.''
England's a greyland of bogs and mist
Where they all got rotten on mead and mutton and hogs ...
Oh ye Gods! I'm reminded of clogs ...
(Just quaint wooden booty from an old Gaulish Queen)
And I've worked out this snazzy routine ...

Calypso to Colapso

Calypso to colapso - maybe perhapso ...
Colapso to calypso - collapsin' to calypso
Loosen up - marionette
Snake-thighs - stone-wise
Juice it up - hurry get it
Pork pies in foyer!

Toupee for the telepho' - lazy let your lips go.
Lapin 'til the pips go ...
Yellow full of glowing - watching full of knowing
Viva voce sotto - our motto: blotto.
Mount Gay rum feeling - relaxo on the ceiling.

Loosen up - marionette
Snake-thighs - stone-wise
Juice it up - hurry got it
Pork pies in foyer!

Doctor says I'm very sick - oblige please
Make the cheque out quick.
Dancing with the dipso-Man-I-a calypso.
Brimful for the burst she,
Yet for this is thirsty.

Ginger Geezer

Geezer, wot a ginger geezer. I nearly 'ad a seizure,
When I clocked 'im in the frog.
Spruced up in me piccolo, me titfer an' me daisys,
Bowling down the rubba wiv me cherry china fido
Rolled an oily rag.
Me cherry bread and cheesed
You won't adam wot I sees -
Some geezer. an ooly ginger geezer,
A geezer wiv a hooter I suppose -
I really 'ad to rabbit an' pork to this geezer,
Itie-ice-cream freezer,
Ginger geezer. sees-y'around.

Back in the old days, tramp played hurdy-gurdy,
Rollin' out the barrel. Horse 'as got 'is oats t'day -
Ole Muvver Riley's on 'er bike - she's got green apples. . .
Tried to come the old acid wiv me. All the same, I just
Trousered the boodle - GINGER GEEZER SEE-Y'AROUND.


Would it be a bore ... to hear yet encore
I was drowning ... before you?
Just a strutting Scaramouche... but you filled me -
Bouche to bouche with bestial... inspiring ...
Then followed days when we ... wolves, unashamedly ...
Fugitive far from my pach-y-derm-mysteries of wilderness, .
Snow, waste, but my wife know this: Wolves mate for life.
As the bewilderbeeste ... flows to the ancient feast ...
Knows he will find release in rhythmic predestine -
Deed and in thought with you - go easy to my death, this
Herring-bone Macbeth: Lay on MacLove.

The Cracks are Showing

The cracks are showing ... the cracks are showing...
Listen to the Loonies croon.
While the Man in the Moon that
They left behind is rising in the East.
Heigh-ha-ho the ways things are ...
The clocks are baring their teeth.
Tick - Grandfather's stopped.
Time for Time to flash her dazzling dentures.
Heigh-ha-ho the way things are ...
The cracks are showing ... the cracks are showing ...
The Cracks are Showing.

Terry Keeps His Clips On

THOCK for short (Terry His On-going Clips Keeps)
Biking down the road - THOCK
Good advice from Dad - "Always wear yer clips, son."
Pity that he's dead - Buried with his clips on.
Terry is a clean young man, but next door think he's weird.
His Idi-Amin-o-syncraties are stranger than my beard.
And if he's strange - He won't change. he won't change, he don't change.

When he rides to work - THOCK
Like any other bloke - THOCK
Slaving at the bench - THOCK
Quiet in the gents - THOCK
When he goes to bed - THOCK
More advice from Dad - "Only take yer boots off.
Bending for the soap - THOCK
Afterwards. a fag - Terry has a good cough.

Why don't you behave like normal people doodle-oodle-do?

Terry is an upright chap and seldom is he rude,
Because he keeps his clips clamped on - he's never in the nude.
And if he's strange - He won't change.

Twenty five hours a day - THOCK
Any other way? No! - THOCK
Lot se tell you why - THOCK
As his Dad would say - "To stop those wasps and creepy-crafties
crawlin' up yer trousers."
When he mows the grass - THOCK
Protects his private parts - THOCK
All the wasps can piss off!

Flung a Dummy

Sittin' on a bus with a stack of Golden Oldies,
Checkin' out the label on a rare and Screamin' Jay.
So wrapped up in 'What That Is', throbbin' in my seat.
Hardly notice this Old Raincoat - twitchin' to the beat.
All I reckon I bout Old Raincoat. who's sittin' opposite:
S'nice to see old rockers - then he had a fit.
Clutched his chest, turned white, and to use the old cliche:
Macintosh-merchant went and I passed away

He flung a dummy yeah, He flung a dummy,
He kicked the bucket - he just passed away. (Brown bread)
He flung a dummy. they checked his pocket.
And this is funny -
He flung a dummy with a round trip fare-yeah-yeah.

Some old girl lost her goggles and asked: "What's happened, Son?"
I said: "I'll tell you, Mrs. Lady,
'The Feast of the Mau Mau'
Has just begun, hey."

Conductor starts conductin I like 'Enery-flippin'-Wood.
"If a bloke's about to snuff it - 'a should stop at 'ome. 'e should."
Waves his arms, "Don' t be alarmed."
I don't hear what he says. I'm still going like the clappers -
To the jazz, jazz, ju-ju jazz of Screamin' Jay,

Possibly An Armchair and Fresh-Faced Boys

Growing up to be like Dad, death-defying times ahead,
Retelling stories old, of times when Dad was older/younger.
Now he sits and has every comfort and sits with a washable cover,
Yet it niggles him that his life has gone cheerio-by,
So he says to his son: 'I don' t want to think, I'm not paid to think.
I've retired you see me.
But it worries so, how can I convey: you might turn out to be-
Possibly an armchair like me?"

But alternatively:

A fresh-faced boy in navy blue. shaven and shorn with shiny shoes,
Two O-Levels, 5 foot eight - the ideal young novitiate.
O the morning run is lots of fun - especially if it's raining.
We look real sports in our knee length shorts - it's all part of the training.
There's bags of spit and lots of swanking and bromide tea to stop you
Thinking about anything at all.
Sunflower seeds, ginseng and kelp - Nature's way to raise your whelp.
Healthy foods to trust in. "More yoghurt, Justin?"
Case you think that we're the old traditional ways, gainsaying.
(You will call your Father, Sir)
Justin at great expense, to cultivate his common sense,
Has tubular sculpture to play in.
Toby's teething - how he screams. Incessant Self-expressed,
Dad's diapezan, wifey's fits, encounter group incest.
Jessica pulls her doll to bits. "AhahaH! says her trick-cyclist ...
"Will ye gie us 2 quid for a cup of tea, I've got change of a fiver,
I'll accept a cheque wie a bankers card - I'm a trusting soul survivor."

I don't want to think, I'm not paid to think.
I've retired you see me.
I'm sorry, Son - I'm passed it now, I Id just like to be
Possibly an armchair.
"Dad, this may be a shock - but I don't want to be even possibly,
or maybe or eventually - because armchairs always: Get stuffed!
I'd just like to be Possibly an Armchair.

Bass Macaw and Broken Bottles

Nobody understood she knew her problem -
Only could be cured without confusion.
In that humble jail that Jesus made for Man (pass Go - collect 200)
But it had to be her own strong distillation.
Not the don't or doo-dah denominations ...
Flashing off their O.D. Christian facelets -
She'd seen it all before, so help me.
Mea Culpa, maya Baba - (Clap hands and feed 5000)

Don't don' t don't don't ... don't don't don't don' t let me in.
O it'll bring a little peace a few hours of release -
But the price I'm payin' - . .
I'm just a little girl from Ayrshire - whereshire - No-shire. .
Woe-shire ... Here I go-shire.
Read my label - I' m unable to och, och away - so:
Don't don't don't don't ... don't don't don't don't let me in.
I only turn wicked when I want to hurt myself and you won't let me, hin,
Layin' my soul on the line to dry out, ' Bass Macaw and Broken Bottles
Hear ma Glasgae cry out:
Don't don't don't don't don't don' t let me in.

Ordered to a clinic under protest.
"Straighten up or Go Down" - so no contest!
With 'Jesus Loves Me' tattoo'd round her wrist.

That bluey gris-gris bangle meant that she could handle
Anything they dished out - she'd somnabulist out.
Caligari angles - O what a freak show. Carica-tuinal Trappist

All I need is a whispering reed to soothe my roundelay. or
A friend in creed who will sing with me and celebrate -
Then the blues and the pinks and the orange and the blues
And the yellows ...
Will take their place with my polaroid mates - all plastered on my guitar
And laughin' -

Nose Hymn

"Oh Oh won t you heed his plea?"
We started off sweethearts from childhood She loved to play hospitals too.
Then one day my sweet caramia Catheta said: Don Juan day, I gone marry you."
And that really gets up me nose.
"To nose, nose, nose hymn."
She'd tune in to cry by the radio set,
And I joked inbetween her sobs -
For a gal with a permanent headache
You sure do like twiddlin' knobs.
"She hit him . . . then she bit him.
... and then she struck a pose."
And that really gets up ma nose.
"To nose, nose, nose, hymn. "
Please Lord, make as rich and attractive.
If you can' t manage both - make me rich.
I'm so sick of her S.O.B. itching ...
Jesse O be how they preaches.
Deliver them riches -
Cos I'm hitched to that ...
"Ugly, loathsome, pockmarked, impurely ... old"
Last post.

Nouveau Riffe

Now Harrod's is our habitat where Woolworths once would do,
We haven't changed a jot, in that - we don't buy, we just choose.
The old man sits with his guitar, sometimes his big hits he'll play
200 pounds of 'groceries' will keep me quiet today ...

The friends he had that loved him aren't welcome anymore,
Unless of course they're in the charts, in which case: I'll say no more.
And see that gold disc halo that frames my head so swell?
It's my rockin' role to protect him, but - heavy armours
Such a well, well. well ... to wear/where?

When we go out I squander for the sake of 'Like Appearance' chick,
Because he once opened up to me - I'm gonna shut him down for keeps.
I'm gonna shut him down ... shut him down for keeps.

In country mansion clover 'The King' is shrinkin' all over.
Puttin' on weight, puttin' on-Great! - I'm gonna use him.
I'm you're road-show runner, baby: Bleep, bleep, bleep.
I'm a chiffon-shove-offer-I'm going cheap.
I don't love you but I lead you-like a sheep.

Smoke Signals at Night

All day at the office micro-fishing with chips.
Inoffensive Bog Cratchit, sweet natured, hare-lipped,
Computing packed lunches with neat megabytes,
Efficient and no threat, Bob always has Time. And he...
Takes off his glasses the better to listen, he ...
Closes his eyes to now let me see. And ...
All of his journeys have deep sense of mission. And...
All of his senses know journeys of joy.
But in the dark in bed he's reading:
Smoke signals, sleeping in the raw - smoke signals in the night.
De-sign language, eisteddford of the spheres - no re-Morse Code melodies.
Mild mannered Bob frees all the sur-realities,
Bounden duty overthrown. Mainspring peepholes and -
What the butler saw: 'Smoke Signals in the Night'.
All of his journeys have deep sense of mission. And ...
All of his senses know journeys of joy.
But in the dark in bed he's reading:
Raw sleeping, freedom to explore - smoke signals in the Night.
Resign BASICS. assuage the day-to-daily blackmail cypher of machine.
Sees how the past and future lies - scenarios of Paradise,
Becomes as one with stone. All that remains unseen and -
What the butler saw: 'Smoke Signals in the Night'.

Everyday, I have the Blows

I s'pose it's 'cos I blow my nose too loud,
I'm a dreadful anglo-klaxon man - I'm proud.
I know why you dislike it when I let one off,
But I can't respect you if it's acceptable
Behind a cough - and hide it

O all the lies we heed - O all the lies we need
To survive - to survive.

I oughta trim my nostrils and my ears - after-shave.
Don't wanna smell a guardsman, but gardenias what they're marchin' to and
I'm supposed to have - Self-confidence, sheepish commonsense.
Behave, Pretend, like you,
It never happened - and hide it.
Now I'm not suggesting we behave like swine.
You in your handkerchief - I in mine.
Orwell wrote the cover version to 'Jollity Farm' .
Yeah, now I'm a freaky farmer, not a city-sneaky-charmer
And see why you try - and hide it.

[Bonzo Dog]
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