Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2019 21:17:52 GMT
Some of the most wonderful lyrics you'll ever encounter.
Pulling the ice axe from my leg, I staggered on, Spindrift stinging my remaining eye.
I finally managed to reach the station. Only to find that the bus replacement service had broken down. After wondering to myself whether it should actually be called a train replacement service I walked out onto the concourse and noticed the giant screen seemed to have been tampered with. Probably by a junior employee.
Disgruntled commuters were being regaled with some dismal TVM, Involving a tug-of-love-custody-battle. Stockard Channing held sway
Down in the High Street somebody careered out of Boots without due care or attention. I suggest that they learn some pedestrian etiquette, i.e sidle out of the store gingerly, Embrace the margin
Fat kids with sausage rolls. Poor sods conducting polls
There’s a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
I try to put everything into perspective. Set it against the scale of human suffering. And I thought of the Mugabe government. And the children of the Calcutta railways. This works for a while But then I encounter Primark FM
Overhead a rainbow appears In black and white
Shite Day
I guess this must be National Shite Day
This surely must be National Shite Day
Don’t tell me, it’s National Shite Day
Float… float on
Float… float on
Barry… Herpes
I got a letter from Stringy Bob. Still on suicide watch. Screws not happy' Spotted a Marsh Fritillary during association. Was roundly ignored. What news you. I felt sorry for him. He’d only been locked up for public nuisance offences. One of which saw him beachcombing the Dee Estuary
Found a dead wading bird. Took it home, parcelled it up, and sent it off to the rubber-faced irritant Phil Cool With a note inside which read: “Is this your Sanderling?”
Another time saw him answering an advert in the music press. “Keyboard player required: Doors, Floyd, etc. Must be committed, no time wasters”. You can guess the rest
I always imagined he would simply wander off some day into the hills. To be found months later, His carcass stripped by homeless dogs, His exposed skull a perch for the quartering crow.
I folded away the letter and put it in my inside pocket. All of a sudden I felt brushed by the wings of something dark. May the Lord have mercy on Stringy Bob
Shite Day
I do believe it’s National Shite Day
It all points to National Shite Day
Someone’s declared it National Shite Day
Shite Day
My birthday! On National Shite Day
No bogroll, it’s National Shite Day
Cue drumroll, it’s National Shite Day
I finally managed to reach the station. Only to find that the bus replacement service had broken down. After wondering to myself whether it should actually be called a train replacement service I walked out onto the concourse and noticed the giant screen seemed to have been tampered with. Probably by a junior employee.
Disgruntled commuters were being regaled with some dismal TVM, Involving a tug-of-love-custody-battle. Stockard Channing held sway
Down in the High Street somebody careered out of Boots without due care or attention. I suggest that they learn some pedestrian etiquette, i.e sidle out of the store gingerly, Embrace the margin
Fat kids with sausage rolls. Poor sods conducting polls
There’s a man with a mullet going mad with a mallet in Millets
I try to put everything into perspective. Set it against the scale of human suffering. And I thought of the Mugabe government. And the children of the Calcutta railways. This works for a while But then I encounter Primark FM
Overhead a rainbow appears In black and white
Shite Day
I guess this must be National Shite Day
This surely must be National Shite Day
Don’t tell me, it’s National Shite Day
Float… float on
Float… float on
Barry… Herpes
I got a letter from Stringy Bob. Still on suicide watch. Screws not happy' Spotted a Marsh Fritillary during association. Was roundly ignored. What news you. I felt sorry for him. He’d only been locked up for public nuisance offences. One of which saw him beachcombing the Dee Estuary
Found a dead wading bird. Took it home, parcelled it up, and sent it off to the rubber-faced irritant Phil Cool With a note inside which read: “Is this your Sanderling?”
Another time saw him answering an advert in the music press. “Keyboard player required: Doors, Floyd, etc. Must be committed, no time wasters”. You can guess the rest
I always imagined he would simply wander off some day into the hills. To be found months later, His carcass stripped by homeless dogs, His exposed skull a perch for the quartering crow.
I folded away the letter and put it in my inside pocket. All of a sudden I felt brushed by the wings of something dark. May the Lord have mercy on Stringy Bob
Shite Day
I do believe it’s National Shite Day
It all points to National Shite Day
Someone’s declared it National Shite Day
Shite Day
My birthday! On National Shite Day
No bogroll, it’s National Shite Day
Cue drumroll, it’s National Shite Day
