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Toxic Custard Workshop - #69
MoccaSIN Records
in association with
the Toxic Custard Workshop Files
Present:
_ __ __ _
/\_/ \__/ \___/ \__/ \_/\
________________________/\/ \_/ \__POMMY__/ \_/ \/\__________________________
\/\_/ \__/megabogue\__/ \_/\/
________________________/\/ \_/ \__/ \__/ \_/ \/\__________________________
\/\_/ \__/ \___/ \__/ \_/\/
________________________/\/ \_/ \__/ \__/ \_/ \/\__________________________
\/\_/ \__/ \___/ \__/ \_/\/
\/ \_/ \__/ \__/ \_/ \/
1. MAKE MY CROTCH LOOK BIG (Slasher Rists)
--------------------------
England was boring, ain't got no dosh
Scotland was boring, always got sloshed
Wales was boring, don't wanna be a miner
Why not go down under on an ocean liner
The ship was boring, sailed for months
Couldn't stop vomiting, not even once
Heard that heavy metal in the bar
Just decided I wanna be a rock star
CHORUS:
Gotta get long hair, gonna wear a wig
Buy them tight Levi's all the girls dig
Stick in a banana, make my crotch look big
Get a bogan band together, and go play some gigs
Got into Melbourne, Christ what a dump
Stupid right-turns out past the black-stump
'Cos I was English, got into a fight
They all call me Pommy after that night
Got a band together, played a few pubs
Wouldn't pay us money, but let us get drunk
Power chords made a hell of a noise
But no girls turned up, just Neanderthal boys
CHORUS
Went deaf fast, music too loud
Playin' those power chords in front of the crowd
Scratching on stage? They don't mind
Only problem was I soon went blind
The papers heard, they all came to see
Critics all came to listen to me
"Incomprehensible" is what they wrote
The band don't mind, they can't play a note
CHORUS
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
2. THE BAND (Slasher Rists)
-----------
We're Pommy's band, a gang of four
Playing our instruments all bloody night
Yelling all evening 'til our throats are sore
And strutting our stuff in front of the lights
N
My name's Steve, I play the bss o
While the others wail and moan
I grab a bottle and get slowly wasted s
And if I ever do sing, it's in a monotone i
d
Hi I'm Jimmy and I play the drums e
Hitting them all night with my huge sticks w
I tried guitar, but can't even strum a
Besides, everyone knows guitarists are pricks y
s
The name is Angus, what do I play?
No, I don't play, I MANIPULATE.. m
My guitar is my tool, that's what I say e
Anything that comes out of it just has to be great. s
s
And I'm Pommy, leader of the band a
Writing six six sick songs to sing g
I'm deaf dumb and blind so they lend me a hand e
When it comes to fitting my guitar with new strings.
t
We have a gig at least once a year h
Borrow big amps so we can be loud i
Remember that time the audience cheered s
When Steve suddenly threw up all over the crowd
w
Now vomit's a regular part of our act e
Though our critics describe it as sick e
Vomit, sick, spew, I'd agree that's a fact k
It's just a pity our music is shit .
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Pommy moves into a high-rise building. At number 7 every night, he
and his friends practise their music and drive Steve's car full of
equipment, to the occasional gig.]
O
3. STAIRWAY TO SEVEN (Slasher Rists) o
-------------------- p
s
There's a lady who bangs, .
On the wall every night
When we're trying to practise our chords
She tells us we should stop
Making noise and be quiet
Or she'll dob us into the land lo-o-ord
ooooh And she's climbing the stairway to seven
There's a sign on the wall
'bout restrictions to noise
But you know we never take no notice
I sleep all of the day
Then I round up the boys
And we play despite shouts from the neighbours
oooh.. it makes them thunder
oooh.. that note was blundered
There's a feeling I get
When I look out the door
And the rentman is crying for money
I slam it shut in his face
'Cos he always wants more
And here's me living on bread and honey
oooh.. it makes me chunder
oooh.. Really makes me chunder
The drummer's drumming and he won't go
Because he don't know,
Rehearsals finished two hours since
He's prob'ly brain dead
Or at least he is very slow
Why we don't sack him, I don't know.
And it makes me wonder
Your head is humming and it won't go
Because you don't know
What was the stuff you have just smoked?
And as we drink-drive down the road
Reactions slower than we'd hope
Here comes a cop car we all know
Flashing blue lights, oh God no!
And if Steve breathes in very hard
Before he blows into his bag
The license may not go too far
Because we need it for the band.
And we're hoping he don't get suspended.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
R. CROTCH LOOK BIG REPRISE (Slasher Rists)
--------------------------
Steve's licence got suspended, ain't got no car
We still play gigs, but we can't travel far
Lugging the drum kit on train, bus and tram
Crowds look sympathetic but don't give a damn
REPRISE CHORUS
We're writing deep songs, 'bout death and stuff
Then we go wild on stage, all tryin' to look tough
No-one understands the words that we sing
But none of them mind, they can't hear a thing
But no record contract, we're soon in debt
Out on the streets in the cold and the wet
Living on nothing but bread and cheese
The crowds are all gone, even the groupies
There's nothing compares to the pain and the hurt
When you're forced to sell one of your flannelette shirts
Lucky I have got another twelve
Or I'd be ready to kill myself
REPRISE CHORUS
But skin tight jeans - I won't suffer loss
'Cos the simple fact is, I can't get 'em off
I don't remember, they've been on for years
When I do up the zip, they reduce me to tears
So I paint them often, to make them look clean
Else wash them by dangling my legs in the machine
Anyway I'm out of money, and so bloody bored
Why don't I go out and paint some brick walls?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Pommy walks the streets, spraying walls]
5. BRICK WALL PAINTER (Slasher Rists)
---------------------
Ever since I was a young boy,
I've sprayed phones in the mall.
From Footscray to Beaumaris
I must have sprayed them all.
But I ain't seen anything like him,
In any children's court...
That deaf dumb and blind bogue
Sure paints a mean brick wall!
He's a brick wall painter
He has to be a twit.
A brick wall painter,
He's really such a git.
Why do you think he does it? I don't know!
What is the appeal?
Rejection of society,
Or something deep like that,
That's what the doctors tell us
But it's a load of crap.
He's really just a vandal,
And very bad at that...
That deaf dumb nd blind bogue
What a stupid twat!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Pommy, out of money, looks for work (not easy when you're blind) and
eats at the soup-kitchen]
6. WON'T EAT SOUP AGAIN (Slasher Rists)
-----------------------
We'll be walking down the street
With our moccies on our feet
And our cig'rette packets under.. our t-shirts
And our flannel shirts as well
And our hair without no gel
We decided that it does look rather swell
I look around at the poverty-stricken nation
Take a walk to the Army of Salvation
Smile and grin at the free food all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like Brian May
Then I get on my knees and pray..
We don't get soup again!
The train it had to come
We'd been waiting for so long
But the Met man said there's nothing to be done
But it finally arrived
So I tapped my way inside
Around the city I was going to ride
I go on down, to the rotten job centre
Looking for, any job you'd care to mention
Smile and grin at the people in the queue
Pick up my dole and complain
There's just no jobs around
Then I get on my knees and pray..
I soon find work again!
Yeeeeaaaaahh!
Eat the new soup
Same as the old soup
- - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
7. CROTCH LOOK BIG REPRISE AGAIN (Slasher Rists)
--------------------------------
But there ain't much work when you're totally blind
Might as well just go out of my mind
Wish I could make money writing my songs
Oh stuff it, mate, pass me that bong
And like all young studs, I want a root
But there ain't no way a blind man can drive a ute
So the shag-wagon's out, what'll I do?
Find a sheep, or something goin' "moo"?
No no, that's revolting, have I no shame?
Do I want to fall foul of the RSPCA?
I can drown my sorrows in a bottle of brandy
But there's no getting round the fact that I'm randy
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[Pommy goes blind-clubbing, looking for loose women]
8. SEE ME, GROPE ME (Slasher Rists)
-------------------
See me.. feel me.. touch me.. bonk me
See me.. grope me.. touch me.. stroke me
See me.. feel me.. touch me.. bonk me
See me.. feel me.. touch me.. bonk me senseless
Listening to you, can't hear no music
Gazing at you, can't see a thing
Would you please, kindly consider
Attending to my ding-a-ling
Right behind you, I sense a bouncer
He's prob'bly got, an angry face
Following my forward advances
I'm getting kicked out of the place
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
[But there aren't any *that* loose]
9. CHRIST SLASHER CAN'T YOU WRITE ANOTHER BLOODY TUNE CROTCH REPRISE
--------------------------------------------------------------------
(Slasher Rists)
Blind men don't get roots, that was a blunder
Never heard 'bout the sex life of Stevie Wonder
Fed up with trying, I don't think I should
I feel in the cupboard, again out of food
So I trudge off hungry, walk down the street
Blisters in my belly and pains on my feet
Had enough of living, it's got really dull
Had enough of dying, don't sound much like fun
Had enough music too, sick of those sounds
I'll find a park bench to have a lie down
I'm going to sleep now, the day has been rough
So now I'll ask you all to kindly fuck off.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Copyright © 1991 Daniel Bowen
--
Daniel Bowen, Monash \ /\/ / The Toxic Custard Workshop Files ||
University, Melbourne Australia/\/\ \/ [email protected] ||
[email protected]/\ \/\/--------------------------------------++
[email protected] / /\/ \ RUGBY REPORT: Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah
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