1. |
Crosstarn Traffic
02:30
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Crosstarn Traffic
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
That Punto in front of me car, has got me stuffed
Crawling less than a mile an hour, and I'm reight dischuffed
I'm gonna lose me rag, with all these total farts
Backed-up from Ardsley Hill to Stairfoot Rarndabart
I’m stuck in crosstarn traffic - Why’s it allus stuck on red?
Crosstarn traffic - Could have had this hour in bed!
Crosstarn traffic - Drive-Time Radio is sick
Tracy Chapman singing ‘Fast Car’ teks the mick!
Numpties in Four by Four’s, they’re art theer on the school-run
Their daily carbon footprint, must weigh a metric tonne
If it’s less than 90 yards, from your house to the school,
Then why not walk it theer and back, you gormless chuffing fool!?
Still here in crosstarn traffic - May as well be in reverse
Crosstarn traffic - Being cut-up by a hearse
Crosstarn traffic - There’s a gap; move forward mate
Or else I’ll beat you half-to-death with your hand-brake!
Been stuck for ovver an hour, and it’s quite unsportsmanlike
But I want to deck that bloke that just shot past on his push-bike
It’s total gridlock, and I’ve lost the will to live
You can honk that horn from noon to night for all the shits I give
That chuffin’ crosstarn traffic - it’s near burnt out me clutch
I'm far from happy - nivver chuffin’ swore as much
Crosstarn traffic - there’s no movement and no power
And a definite lack of rush in this 'Rush Hour'
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2. |
Flat-Packs
03:28
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Flat-Packs
(Lyrics: S.Doonican/A.White)
I'm no expert DIYer
I'm giving wordwork a miss
I see no point in dovetail joints
Got a million better things to do than this
I've flicked through the sheets of instructions in Greek
For a Billy bookcase, a bed and a sideboard
All supplied with a tool inside
And ar lass is stressed, she dun't look impressed
No instructions for me - stick yer Allen Key
Up your bracket with brass knobs on
Not got enough springs, they've been left in Beijing
No I can’t get on with Flat-Packs
It's so horribly, horribly, horribly, horribly tricky
I'm four nuts short and now me doors protrude
The diagram makes it look slimmer
Now I'll never get the bugger to fit
With the shelves attached it's a dreadful sight
But I could try and set my eyes on the Turner Prize
I’m sure you'll agree - it's not for me
All these years I've not improved
I could chuck it all in to the nearest bin
No I can't get on with Flat-Packs
Yeah, I’m pretty pants at Flat-Packs
I'm not terribly, terribly, terribly, terribly picky
But I'm sure the drawers should not be upside down
Me patience is getting much thinner
Cos it's lookin' much worse in 3-D
After all those jobs there's more bits and bobs
Than are out on view, at the B&Q
With hammer in hand it won't look grand
Me knob's on the wrong way round
The cupboard's in pieces, me temper increases
It teks the piss how it ended up like this!
With hammer & nails, I'm no Chippendale
I'll just put me tool away
I'm in need of a screw but cuppa'll do
Cos I'm sick to death with Flat-Packs
And I'm reight stressed out with Flat-Packs
No I just can't do with Flat-Packs
I'm an epic fail with Flat-Packs
So stick your chuffing flatpacks
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3. |
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Pumping Muscles For Michelle
(Lyrics: S.Doonican/A.White)
Björn had a reight crush on a local lass they called her Sally Tweedy
He thought she was a babe,
But she said that he was too weak and weedy
And as he sat and pondered why, his Swedish meatballs looking limp
It was then he saw her mate - he'd prove to her he was no wimp
Well he fancied Sally but he could not compete
Cos she likes blokes fit as hell
So now he's down the gym to impress her mate
He's pumping muscles for Michelle - Pumping muscles for Michelle
Drinking protein shakes and training darn the gym two times a day
His abs and glutes have seen more action
Than a hooker in Bombay
From his torso to his toes, he's-no-Joe Pasqualé, he's King Kong
All his muscles, except one, are feeling stiff, but not for long
She looked beneath his tanktop - her heart began to beat
He's a Swede with pecs appeal
She can't resist a feel, and she's keen ('cos he's been)
Pumping muscles for Michelle
Now all the single ladies stop and stare below his mantlepiece
He'll stoke their fire with his poker now he's got the expertise
He's got the braun to brag about
He's pumped some iron, now he's butch
They ask him to flex his pecs, but he likes his tanktop way too much
So he's ditched his flatpack, the six pack's now complete
He's a Swedish blonde bombshell
And Sally's sore as hell, cos Björn's keen
To pump his muscle for Michelle
They're queuing down the alley, they're queuing darn the street
And he's got birds fit as hell
Just falling at his feet, but he's discrete
To pump his muscle for Michelle - Pump his muscle for Michelle
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4. |
Get Messy
04:22
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Get Messy
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
Hitting Tarn as sunlight’s dimming
And we’re only just beginning
Acting like God’s gift to women
And supping ‘til the room is spinning
Drink like rockstars, as we prop up the bar
Jar after jar, we can't take it too far
We’re quite content in the pub - we’ll sup and sup and we’ll sup
The bar-staff cannot keep up - "And I’m not drunk, I’m just merry"
We’re neckin’ real ale on tap - because the lager is crap
"It’s not a cob, it’s a bap!! And I’m not drunk, I’m just merry"
“Cos I’m not drunk, I’m just merry” x 4
You're gonna feel rough in the morning
When that hangover comes calling
And the realisation's dawning
That at work you'll feel appalling
Pint after pint - work up an appetite
We’ll down the lot, ‘til we’re left feeling shite
We’re all off darn to the club - we’ll sup and sup and we’ll sup
We’ll drop the bass like Daft Punk, "But I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy"
We’re necking shot after shot – we’ll drink until we’ve forgot
I can’t remember a lot - "But I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy"
But I’m not drunk I’m just tipsy x 4
Vocoded: We're up all neet to get… x 4
We're up all neet to get trollied
We're up all neet to get bladdered
We're up all neet to get wasted
We're up all neet to get shitfaced
Oh God, it’s gonna get messy x 4
Wanna kebab... where's the chippy? x 4
You feel like hell, waking up in a cell
You went too far, peeing on that police-car
The morning isn't so great
When you have lost all your mates
They’ll say “You chuffin’ lightweight”
But now you're left feeling yucky
Hangover pounding your head
You look like the walking dead
You’ve thrown-up your garlic bread
And now you're left feeling yucky
And now you're left feeling yucky
And now you're left feeling yucky
And now you're left feeling yucky
And now you're left feeling yucky
Your head's a shed, you feel yucky
Your head's a shed, you feel yucky
Your head's a shed, you feel yucky
Your head's a shed, you feel yucky
Oh God, it's gonna get messy....
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5. |
I Can't Stand Him
02:56
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I Can't Stand Him
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
Gary Barlow get on your bike
Stop trying to pull the wool over the public's eyes
With that super smug grin that shines from you
All that I do is pray you'll pay your taxes
Along with Starbucks too
For all your millions and your OBE
Not a single thing you've done has done a thing for me
And through the years everything's changed but you
And I've no idea how you're still standing
But I'm gonna blame Lulu
Don't you know that I can't stand him – true to say I never did
"Back For Good" and "Let It Shine" or any of his other shit
I can't stand him after all his crimes
Ever since he formed Take That in 1989
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
There was a glimpse of hope in ‘96
It looked like your pop career had had its chips
But even Robbie Williams couldn't take you down
And by the time that you released 'The Circus'
I hoped for Killer Clowns
Don't you know that I can't stand him - true to say I never did
"Patience" or "Relight My Fire" or any of that other shit
I can't stand him after all these crimes
And then he went and reformed Take That in 2005
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
Don't you know that I can't stand him - true to say I never did
As a judge on the X-Factor, I always though he was a tit
I can't stand him after all his crimes
And now he’s left with Mark and Howard, can’t he call it time?
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
I can't stand him yeah yeah yeah
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6. |
Morris Dance
02:46
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Morris Dance
(Lyrics: A.Doonican/S.Doonican/A.White)
You can dance if you want to
Stomp yer clogs - wave a garland high
You can Right-Hand Star your way to the bar
And your tankard never will run dry
At the Olde Cock & Pullett
Join the Mummers as they start to mime
And as your sticks ascend, just shake your bell ends
Making sure you pull out on time - You can dance…
Border dance if you want to
It's tradition, it's not a trend
It's a rare old place where a blacked-up face
Is not there to offend
Dance with swords if you want to
Face a partner who is parallel
And when you raise your shaft, you won't feel so daft
Cos the lads are raising theirs as well
And Morris Dance, Morris Dance - with accordion or violin
Morris Dance, Morris Dance - here your hankies don’t go in the bin
Morris Dance, Morris Dance - for Solstice or Equinox
Take a chance, you can prance, with your keks tucked in your socks
Morris Dance, oh yeah Morris dance
Come on Morris Dance, Morris Dance
Pace-egg if you want to
Or wear a hobby-horses head
Horn-dance like a stag if that is your bag
Or dance like a fool instead
On May Day, if you want to,
You can do it at the village fair
The size of your pole's a sight to behold
When erected for the people there
Morris dance Morris dance - if you're feeling that way inclined
Morris dance Morris dance - like it’s 1599
Morris dance Morris dance
Get your baldricks out tonight
Morris dance Morris dance
There’s nothing wrong with men in tights
Morris Dance, oh yeah Morris dance
Come on Morris Dance, Morris Dance...
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7. |
Paint 'em Back
02:58
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Paint 'em Back
(Lyrics: S.Doonican/A.White)
I saw you from behind but was ta-ken aback
When you turned round I nearly had a heart attack
I see girls pass me by, but I’m far from aroused
What makes you do the things you do with your eyebrows?
Why pluck your eyebrows out and then just draw them back?
Especially if it’s clear you haven’t got the knack
They look like they were drawn on by a three year old
Who’s used a magic marker, wearing a blindfold
And there’s the metro guys who try to stay ‘on fleek’
You need to get art more, you narcissistic freaks
Why can’t they face the facts like Burt on Sesame Street
Instead of sculpting their monobrow with a metric tonne of Veet
Some lasses shave them off and draw them back too high
I’d tell them to their face, but they’d still look surprised
Armed with huge tweezers that they got from Marks & Sparks
Why take ‘em off and draw ‘em back like Groucho Marx?
That pained expression that you drew for all to see
You’d still look narked off, if you won the lottery
I see folks shake their heads and quickly run and hide
They’re like angry caterpillars in formaldehyde
Don’t wanna to see ‘em painted, painted, painted, painted back
Black and wide
You dun’t need ‘em stencilled on - looking cross or surprised
Don’t want to see ‘em painted, painted, painted, painted back
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8. |
All The Dinner Ladies
02:33
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All The Dinner Ladies
(Lyrics: S.Doonican/A.White)
All the dinner ladies (All the dinner ladies)
All the dinner ladies (All the dinner ladies)
All the dinner ladies (All the dinner ladies)
All the dinner ladies - Now put your hands up
They’re giving us grub, just served up
Sausage, mash-spuds and peas
The bigger kids, are getting first dibs
There’s bugger all left for me
Dun’t mek ‘em cross, ‘cos they’re the boss
And you’ll only end up in detention
They’ve been there for years, it’ll end in tears
They’re meaner than Mohammed Ali
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
You mightn’t like it, cos it’s gonna have a skin on it
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
Oh, no, no - No, no, no, no, no, no - No, no, no
Oh, no, no - No, no, no, no, no, no - No, no, no
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
You mightn’t like it, cos it’s gonna have a skin on it
They’ve got gravy but it’s allus got a skin on it
Serving rock hard chips, can’t get to grips
With cauliflower cheese or stir-fry
But dun’t act up, they’ll mess you up
After giving you the evil eye
Stop chatting, just eat! Stay in your seat!
You better be paying attention!
It’ll only get worse, if you aven’t ‘ad yer firsts
You can kiss yer afters goodbye
Bringing custard but it’s allus got a skin on it
Bringing custard but it’s allus got a skin on it
You may like it, but it’s gonna have a skin on it
Bringing custard but it’s allus got a skin on it
Oh, no, no - No, no, no, no, no, no - No, no, no
Oh, no, no - No, no, no, no, no, no - No, no, no
Take your trays and go and scrape ‘em in the bin, poppet
Take your trays and go and scrape ‘em in the bin, poppet
And if you spill, they’ll keep you in until they can mop it
Take your trays and go and scrape ‘em in the bin, poppet
Out you go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go
Out you go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go
Out you go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go
Out you go
Go, go, go, go, go, go
Go, go, go
They’ll blow the whistle and it allus got a string on it
They’ll blow the whistle and it allus got a string on it
When the bell goes it’s allus got a ring on it
They’ll blow the whistle and it allus got a string on it
If it’s spitting then they’re gonna get you in for it
If it’s spitting then they’re gonna get you in for it
If you act silly in the classroom then you’re in for it
If it’s spitting then they’re gonna get you in for it
Oh no no
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9. |
Everytime She Tries...
03:10
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Every Time She Tries To Park...
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
I ain't got the guts to tell her
That there's one vital statistic that she lacks
And as she starts moving nearer
I just lose my nerve, as she reverses back
Every time she tries to park it's tragic
Every time I try to be polite
She's really in her stride when moving forwards
But when she's moving backwards she's just poor...
I don't have to tell the story
It is clear spatial awareness is amiss
She claims the reason she's still struggling
Is I lied about how long 8 inches is
Every time she tries to park's traumatic
You could say her twelve point turn was slow
Even when there is no sign of traffic
She's had as many hits as Status Quo
There's every chance, she'd mess it up
A hundred times a day
And though I sound a sexist pratt
Her reverse park's a cliché
To relieve the fears that grip me
Now our poor car's past its prime
Got her a colouring book for Christmas
To practise staying in the lines
Every time she tries to park it's tragic
She's moving in and out, it takes so long
Pretty much just like the Pope's a Catholic
You can guarantee she'll get wrong
And when she loses her rag, it get's drastic
Her reversing to space should be condemned
But she has got a gift like Uri Gellar
There's not a single metal she can't bend
Every time she tries to park
Every time she tries to park
Every time she tries to park
It’s tragic
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10. |
Wokkin' The Dog
02:20
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Wokkin' The Dog
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
North Korea, have no fear
Your Supreme Leader has a great idea
They're all scared, none get spared
On the menu all breeds prepared
Wokking the dog
They're just a wokking the dog
Well, there's a hundred ways to cook 'em
North Koreans love to wok the dog
Don't be surprised, don't drop your fork
If the waiter says it tastes like pork
Hairs stand on end, cos that ain't swine
I heard it out the back, a small whimpering whine
Wokking the dog
They're just a wokking the dog
Well, there's a hundred ways to cook 'em
North Koreans love to wok the dog
They have poodle served with noodles
Or King Charles Spaniel stew
There's quite a queue for Shih-tzu Vindaloo
Don't have chihuahua - there's not much to go round
But you can feed the People's Army with an Irish Wolf Hound
Wokking the dog
They're just a wokking the dog
Well, there's a hundred ways to cook 'em
North Koreans love to wok the dog
Well, there's a hundred ways to cook 'em
North Koreans love to wok the dog
Well, there's a hundred ways to cook 'em
North Koreans love to wok the dog
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11. |
Bono's No Woman, To Me
03:19
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Bono's No Woman To Me
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
He can win an award, without being a girl
And he’ll ruin your faith in what’s good in this world
He’s got twenty-two Grammys, honorary degrees
And he can act like a tit, but Bono’s no woman to me
He has fought for world peace, and he met with Obama
And he could free Tibet, from the back of a llama
And he could save the planet for you and for me
But forget all that Glamour, cos Bono’s no woman to me
So, he puts it on his shelf
Next to his Brit Awards
Cos he thinks that it’s fine
Oh, and he never gives up
And he never gives in
And he never declines
He’s had number one albums, and mansion-sized homes
But I’m still pretty sure, he’s got both chromosomes
So how was he chosen as a nominee
Unless science has failed us, then Bono’s no woman to me
So, he puts it on his shelf
By his platinum discs
For The Unforgettable Fire
Oh, and he never gives up
And he never gives in
Though his music’s still dire
Were the judges all blind, had they been over-ruled
Could they not spot his tackle, was it too miniscule?
So rip up the rule book, because I guarantee
If his next souvenir, is ‘Playmate of the Year’
Then Bono’s no woman to me
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12. |
Pub DJ
03:56
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Pub DJ
(Lyrics: S.Doonican/B.Doonicansson/A.White)
‘Ar lass dragged me here, said I could have a beer
A little bit of buffet, then we’d disappear
But my heart just sank when I saw your van
Can we go, love? (No we can’t!)
Uptown Funk, a bit o’ Daft Punk
Brown Eyed Girl and Love Shack
Don’t Stop Believing and I Gotta Feeling
There’s just no end to this crap
How are you still in business? God you’re tekkin the biscuit
Playing all I despise
I can’t tell what you’re saying
But know that if you play the Macarena I will gouge out your eyes
You’re just another Pub DJ, Playing Summer of 69
When you gonna stop DJ? Cos I’d rather drink turpentine
More Dick Van Dyk than Paul Van Dyk
Announcing the buffet, as you mumble down the mic
The Cha Cha Slide, Sweet Child O’ Mine
And Gazza & Lindisfarne’s ‘Fog On The Tyne’
You just sup, but the grans are up
Dancing like their doing Zumba
And I’ll more than frown, and you’ll get knocked down
If you try playing Chumbawumba
Don't play The Smiths to appease me, every song you play's cheesy
Please stop dropping the beat
I just need a breather, from your six foot speakers
And the Village People stuck on repeat
You're just a reight bad Pub DJ, with a tonne of naff flashing lights
And ‘cool’ is what you’re not, DJ? About as smooth as Vanilla Ice
So why don’t you just stop DJ? Your awful playlists are just non-stop
Get out and see some bands DJ, playing instruments not laptops
The Megamix from Grease, it’s a breach of the peace
And you know that it’s wrong
Like Lionel Richie I’m easy, but if you're playin' that… I’m gone!
But still you carry on, DJ, while little kids on the dancefloor slide
It’s gone a bit Pete Tong, DJ, why on earth are you amplified?
You're just an awful Pub DJ, making lasses round handbags jive
Have a few nights off, DJ, because we'd rather keep music live
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13. |
The Cockwombling Song
03:52
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The Cockwombling Song
(Lyrics: S.Doonican)
When life isn't fine, or you've had a bad day
Or you're feeling quite dejected, or you're filled with dismay
Once you hear these words of wisdom, you'll be feeling okay...
Remember, remember, remember, remember
Remember, remember, remember (member-member)
Kanye West is a Cockwomble (Kanye West is a Cockwomble)
Kanye West is a Cockwomble (Kanye West is a Cockwomble)
Kanye West is a Cockwomble (Kanye West is a Cockwomble)
Kanye West is a Cockwomble (Kanye West is a Cockwomble)
Just remember-member-member what an absolute Cockwomble he is
When things have got you down, and you are far from okay
And you need an instant pick me up, then all I can say
Is at least you’re not a racist with an awful toupee
Remember, remember, remember, remember
Remember, remember, remember (member-member)
Donald Trump is a Cockwomble (Trump is a Cockwomble)
Donald Trump is a Cockwomble (Trump is a Cockwomble)
Donald Trump is a Cockwomble (Trump is a Cockwomble)
Donald Trump is a Cockwomble (Trump is a Cockwomble)
Just remember-member-member what an absolute Cockwomble he is
When you listen to the radio, and it all sounds the same
There’s a hundred million wannabes, all hunting for fame
But there really is just one bloke that’s truly to blame
Remember, remember, remember, remember
Remember, remember, remember (member-member)
Simon Cowell is a Cockwomble (Cowell is a Cockwomble)
Simon Cowell is a Cockwomble (Cowell is a Cockwomble)
Simon Cowell is a Cockwomble (Cowell is a Cockwomble)
Simon Cowell is a Cockwomble (Cowell is a Cockwomble)
Just remember-member-member what an absolute Cockwomble he is
Gordon Ramsey’s a Cockwomble (Ramsey’s a Cockwomble!)
Michael Gove is a Cockwomble (Gove is a Cockwomble!)
Geldof’s a Cockwomble (Geldof’s a Cockwomble!)
Jeremy Kyle is a Cockwomble (Kyle is a Cockwomble)
Just remember-member-member there’s a hundred more Cockwombles…
Jeremy Clarkson’s a Cockwomble (Clarkson’s a Cockwomble!)
Katie Price is a Cockwomble (Jordan’s a Cockwomble)
Piers Morgan’s a Cockwomble (Morgan’s a Cockwomble)
And Katie Hopkins is an arsehole (Hopkins is an arsehole)
Just remember-member-member there’s 1000 more Cockwombles out there
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14. |
The Ornithologist Waltz
03:44
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The Ornithologist Waltz
(Lyrics: A.Doonican)
I met her on Facebook in April
Because I'm incredibly shy
I saw her photos, and her videos
She’s up for it and so am I
We met down the pub, it was Quiz Night
She whipped out her clipboard and pen
She said “I love birds”, I was lost for words
I couldn't believe what she said then…
You've got a handsome Cock Robin (Nice Cock!)
I've got a pair of Great Tits (Great Tits!)
Her down the road, she's got nothing but Thrush
But her Twitter gets plenty of hits (lots of hits)
Cos we like to twitch in the garden (the garden)
Seeing what birds we can bag (we can bag)
Some folk go pale, when they see a Wagtail
But I'm on the hunt for a Shag
She said if I go round one morning
She'd happily show me her Chuff
A new one to me, but I just had to see
I went often... once wasn't enough
I promised to show her my Red Shank
If she would help me tempt it out
So we waited a while, then he came out in style
When she saw it she let out a shout!
You've got a handsome Cock Robin (Nice Cock!)
I've got a pair of Great Tits (Great Tits!)
Her down the road, she's got nothing but Thrush
But her Twitter gets plenty of hits (lots of hits)
Cos we like to twitch in the garden (the garden)
Seeing what birds we can bag (we can bag)
Some folk go pale, when they see a Wagtail
But I'm on the hunt for a Shag
Now romance it started to blossom
As winter turned slowly to spring
We found lots to do, waiting for the Cuckoo
And the Lark on the morning to sing
I told her I’d seen a Brown Booby
Though we still didn’t spot that Cuckoo
But my Dickcissel pic, would take something to lick
But then she got a Great Cockatoo
(She said) You've got a handsome Cock Robin (Nice Cock!)
I've got a pair of Great Tits (Great Tits!)
Her down the road she's got nothing but Thrush
But her Twitter gets plenty of hits (lots of hits)
Cos we like to Twitch in the garden (the garden)
Seeing what birds we can bag (we can bag)
Now Spring has sprung, the Summer has come
And I finally got my first Shag!
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15. |
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Wheels Of Steel
(Lyrics: G.Oliver/P.Quinn/P.Gill/P.Byford/S.Dawson)
When my foots on the throttle there's no looking back
I leave the motor tickin' over when she's back on the track
I've got a 68 Chevy with pipes on the side
You know she's my idea of beauty, that's what I drive
She's got wheels, wheels of steel
She's got wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
Talking 'bout my wheels of steel
I don't take no jibe from the motorway pigs
When I'm crusin' down the freeway I don't get no lifts
If you see me coming get out of my way
You know a Trans Am didn't, I blew it away
She's got wheels, wheels of steel
She's got wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
My my my my wheels of steel
I'm burnin' aviation fuel my foot's to the floor
Ya know she's crusin one-forty she'd do even more
I'm burnin' solid rubber I don't take no bull
'Cause my wheels of steel are rolling
They're rolling your way
She's got wheels, wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
My my my wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
Talking 'bout my wheels of steel
I'm burnin' aviation fuel my foot's to the floor
Ya know she's crusin' one- forty she'd do even more
I'm burnin' solid rubber I don't take no bull (shit)
'Cause my wheels of steel are rolling
If you're comin' come quick
She's got wheels, wheels of steel
She's got wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
My my my wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
Talking 'bout my wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
Wheels of steel
My my wheels of steel
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The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican UK
Hailing from Barnsley, The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican are Britain's hardest working comedy band. Having played over 1,100 anarchic live shows to date, they are instantly recognisable for their immaculate hair and their stylish dress-sense. The have been critically acclaimed to be the UK festival scene's undisputed Kings of Parody. ... more
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