Giro (Lyrics: S.Doonican) Giro! Hip-hooray! Lay in bed, there’s no need for work today Giro! It's a gas! Get thiisen to’t pub with tax payers’ hard earned cash Car on mobility for the family Claim a dodgy back… and get thissen a blue badge Giro! It’s great! I'm alreight mate, got it courtesy of the State Giro! Outta sight! Dun’t need none-of-that “You’ve got an interview” shite I’m in the unworking class, so kiss my ass Watchin’ Trisha on me brand new plasma-screen Giro! What a crime! But if the neighbours shop me then it looks like I’m doin’ time. Giro, so they say, is the root of unfairness today

They’re Digging The Roads Up (Lyrics: S.Doonican) You’d only just sped it up ‘afore you had to slow it darn There’s a tonne of traffic and it’s tailing back a mile or two frum’t Tarn But soon you find when you pass the sign… they’re digging the roads up So then you quickly turn it off before you burn your new clutch art You’re running late already and it’s just thing to mek you scream and shart Coz you find that it’s t’Council’s time… for digging the roads up It says ‘Delays expected until the end of June’ But when they end in August – the new sign says ‘more coming soon’ But there is just a gret big hole and a brokken traffic light There’s one fella diggin’ while the rest are watchin’ him – that’s abart reight There’s loads of fuss, but there ain’t a rush… they’re digging the roads up And then to mek it worse the lazy buggers cun’t care less And when they’re likely to finish mekkin’ people late is anyone’s best guess So now you know where your council tax goes… on digging the roads up You’re sat bumper to bumper – on Sunday it’s a farce If only there were workmen, you’d stick them cones right up their arse! Eventually they clear it up and start to tek the cones away And the bloke with the sign lettin’ two at a time out isn’t here today The digger’s gone ‘cause they’ve finally done… with digging the roads up But soon they tear it all back up because there’s summat else to do You would’ve thought that they could’ve done two jobs at once – it isn’t hard to do Yet more expense… there’s no common sense… they’re digging roads up

You Give Tarn A Bad Name (Lyrics: S.Doonican)   A baseball cap is what you wear - You think you’ve got style but there’s clearly none there Chains of bling, star of CCTV - You should be in prison but you’re walkin’ free Woah - With all the drugs that you sell Woah - You’ve been on Neighbours From Hell… Electronic’ly tagged with a curfew as well From Jump to Locke Park - it’s such a shame - Chavs give Tarn bad name You give them an ASBO - they think it’s fame - You give Tarn a bad name You Burberry hoodies, hide your faces away - To stop you from starring on Crimewatch UK Wearing cheap nylon sportswear - Just a quick sudden move and the whole National Grid could be powered by you Woah - Your DNA’s on police file Woah - You've been on Jeremy Kyle… Your mother’s your sister - only known for a while From Pilley to Wuz’bro - it’s such a shame - Chavs give Tarn a bad name You claim that that pit-bull is perfectly tame - But you give Tarn a bad name All through the borough - it’s such a shame - Chavs give Tarn bad name Stop acting like Westwood ‘cause he’s just as lame - You give Tarn a bad name From Hoyland to Kendray - it’s such a shame - Chavs give Tarn a bad name You can act like you’ve done nowt, but you’re alluz blame - You give Tarn a bad name

Arse On Fire (Lyrics: S.Doonican) It’s 1 o’clock in the morning… you been rarnd the tarn - And you’ve now got the munchies… you’re hungry Like bees around honey… like a moth to a flame - You stagger off for a curry… no worries Your legs work like a Sat Nav… and tek you to the K2 - You stumble in lookin’ plastered… “I’ll have pork vindaloo” They don’t hold back on the chillies, they don’t hold back on the spice - And you wolf it darn quickly… so quickly Bugger! Your mouth is on fire! Woah! Can’t help but perspire! Now it’s early next morning… you could drink a tap dry - Your mouth’s like Ghandi’s flip-flops… but you cannot think why And your head it is pounding and you can’t stop the pain - You’re feelin’ so dehydrated… so wasted But your gut’s feeling jippy... you know it ain’t right - And then you remember... what you ate last night And you push back the bedsheets... and you race to the bog - And you only just make it... you made it Bugger! Your arse is on fire! Woah! Now the temperature’s higher Yes your bum’s like a cherry... it’s red and it’s raw - You daren’t move from the toilet… it feels incredibly sore Coz it seems that it’s hotter on the way out than going in in the first place… you have good reason to shout The toilet-roll’s on the fridge shelf… yes you need some relief - But your Ring of Fire… it beggars belief As your Khyber Pass suffers from Ghandi’s Revenge - It smelt so bad I could taste it… taste it Bugger! Your arse is on fire! Woah! With the flames burning higher!

Doonican’s Dog (Lyrics: S.Doonican) Alan’s mother had a terrier and Penny was its name - She’d take it for a walk to spend a penny up the lane He volunteered to walk it to the park in Matlock Bath - She said okay, but didn’t know it would be such a faff He fetched the lead and he hooked it to her collar, and then his mam said “Don’t forget a bag” “A bag?” he said “What on earth do I need that for?” and Penny looked at Alan and she gave her tail a wag She said “Alan, it’s for pooing in. What d’you think you’d do with it?” - “I’ve been already” replied Alan to his mum “You really can’t be serious - it’s for picking up her business. You can’t just leave it dangling from the poor dog’s bum” So he set off down with it, strolling into town with it, through the gates, past the trees and kids and larks The dog it was loving it, couldn’t get enough of it - the day that Alan took the dog to Matlock Park. The dog was looking ready, Alan quickly thought it through - he’d get the dog to go inside the bag to do its poo But Penny saw it different - in fact she just thought no - She was buggered if the bag was the place she was going to go Alan clearly must have under-rated it - he thought he’d train it to get inside the sack He thought it, brought it, and then, without apology, the dog just buggered off as if it wasn’t coming back There was Alan pushing it, shoving it and shushing it, fighting and struggling - he’d almost given up Stood there whacking it, shoving it and smacking it - He might as well have tried to pick the Town Hall up! Penny she was eyeing him, openly defying him, growling and snarling, she gave a nasty bark He stood there reversing it, swearing and a-cursing it - the day that Alan took the dog to Matlock Park. The muscles of the mighty, never known to flinch - he couldn’t shift the terrier a quarter of an inch Alan lay exhausted, hanging round its throat, with a grip just like a Scotchman on a five pound note Other dog walkers crowded round to stare at him - They couldn’t believe what they’d saw him do but then Penny backed into the bag and left a proper whopper and Alan gave a cheer but quickly changed his mind again ‘Cause he was left there dragging it, tying up and bagging it - the bag was so full that he thought it might explode It was too big for his pocket, but the dog went like a rocket and it legged it off contently having dropped its load But Alan kept on pulling it, dragging the bag full of it - he took it home despite the trouble and the strife His mam looked mad when she looked down, her face it dropped into a frown And said “Alan, why on earth d’you use me Bag For Life!?”

If I Could Punch A Face… (Lyrics: S.Doonican) There’s a fever sweeping ‘cross the country now - It’s even worse than all the fans of Glee He’s on every bloody cover, of every magazine - irritating normal folk like me If I could punch a face… it’d be Justin Bieber’s - There’s not a trace of doubt in my mind He’s a chuff - can’t stand Justin Bieber - Hope he gets fever or even hives He’s only twelve and wrote his own biography (in crayon) - His face adorns the shelves of every shop (it’s sickening) All the girls go crazy - he’s the prince of pop - but what will happen when his bollocks drop? If I could punch a face… it’d be Justin Bieber’s - There’s not a trace of doubt in my mind He’s an arse - I hate Justin Bieber - Singing “Baby-Oh”, like, a billion times He’s got a stupid haircut, and his music’s crap - You couldn’t tire from giving him a slap If I could punch a face… it’d be Justin Bieber’s - There’s not a trace of doubt in my mind Switch his music off - destroy ‘Bieber Fever’ and poke Justin Bieber in the eye If I could punch a face… it’d be Justin Bieber’s - Seek medical advice if you’ve got Bieber Fever ‘Cause it’s worse than clap!

Barnsley Birds (Lyrics: Chris Sammon)   Well the Gawber Girls on Pitt Street Neck their vodka darn in one And the Darton Girls never hang ararnd Just one kiss and then they’re gone The Pogmoor Girls are teasers They say they will but that I doubt And the Thurnscoe lasses say they surely would But their dads'd knock you art   I wish they could all be like the Barnsley I wish they could all be like the Barnsley I wish they could all be like the Barnsley Birds   The Brierley Birds have got big houses They’ve got a bob or two And the Hoyland Girls are a friendly bunch ‘cos there’s sod all else to do I’ve been all rarnd the borough And I’ve seen girls of all types But a chat-up from a Darfield lass I’m like a rat up a drainpipe   I wish they could all be like the Barnsley I wish they could all be like the Barnsley I wish they could all be like the Barnsley Birds   Birds, birds, birds, yeah I love the birds… (I wish they all could be like the Barnsley Birds)

Born To Get Riled (Lyrics: S.Doonican/A.White) Get your motor runnin’ - Head out on the highway But sometimes road-rage grips me if things get in me way You could fit a chuffin’ tank in that gap You turned the road into a parkin’ space Why don’t you put yer foot darn granddad, or else I’ll get in yer face! A flaming’ learner driver - doin’ 30 in the fast lane I’m sat behind a tractor and it’s driving me insane Hey pal, where’ve you left yer white stick? How you got a license isn’t clear Get off yer bloody mobile phone and get into fifth gear You can say that I act like a child - but I was born - born to get riled Despite how hard I try - they mek me wanna cry - Born to get riled Get your motor runnin’ - Head out on the highway Pedestrians and cyclists - Just get art of me way I’m not clairvoyant - use yer indicators Get off me bumper - you don’t own the road How’s your driving? Well I’ll tell you when you’ve shifted your heavy load You can say that I act like a child - but I was born - born to get riled Despite how hard I try - they mek me wanna cry - Born to get riled

I Shopped At Asda (Lyrics: S.Doonican) I shopped at Asda and it nearly put ten years on me When I do the Big Shop it’s always a catastrophe It’s Friday neet, and I’m doin’ the Big Shop - Got that trolley wit’ dodgy wheels It’s tekking me places I dun’t wanna go - Don’t need Lillettes or Vagisil At the deli counter, got a ticket there - It was number fifty five It was like a meat and cheese-based lottery - No bugger’s getting out alive I shopped at Asda - ‘cause I needed some snap for me tea You always spend a fortune - ‘cause there’s loads on buy-one-get-one-free I couldn’t move for all the obstacles - That were blockin’ every lane Can’t get to’t’ shelves for’t staff restacking them - It’s enough to drive a bloke insane Kids running wild in the confection’ry - It meks me wanna shout They’re screaming “Mam! Why can’t I have no sweets?” What they really wants a bloody clout. I shopped at Asda - and I got me quid stuck in’t trolley I only went for’t paper - but bought a Blu-Ray DVD All of a sudden, t’final aisle’s in sight - I’m almost home and free Head for the counter, but my path is blocked by a chuff on shop mobility The checkout girl looked bored and looked through me - She said “D’you want a Bag For Life?” I said “I’ve got one here already love”... and got a reight clout off me wife I shopped at Asda - but I did not take me mam with me Me mam shops at Iceland - ‘cause that’s where mums are meant to be Frustration came my way one day - At the self-service check-out Unexpected item in the bagging area - Before I’d started scanning owt The barcode scanner said my Toblerone - Was a plasma-screen TV I looked around, but no one could be found - It wasn’t looking good for me One spotty kid was running fourteen tills - Took ages to sort the farce He said “Do you need a hand with your packing sir?” I said “You can pack self-service up yer arse”!” I don’t like Sainsburys – no no! Or t’Netto… I don’t like Waitrose - oh no! Or t’Tescos! I hate Morrisons – I do! And t’Co-op… I can think of - a few - more reasons to shop - elsewhere I can’t stand shopping – no no – I hate it! But I’ve solved that problem... I send the missus She prefers Lidl – she does - or sometimes Aldi… She buys in bulk there... That’s much more handy I can’t stand shopping!

Shine On You Crazy Bar-Steward (Lyrics: S.Doonican)   Remember when it was fun, we were Bar-Steward Sons… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward But your sudden goodbye tore a hole in the sky… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward You were caught in the cross fire of knit-wear and good times - And it brought you right down to your knees I thought you were kidding… you had to be joking… Now don’t be a stranger, you long-lost half-brother of mine! And then you didn’t want to hang around on the dark side of town… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward Brave face every night, but exposed in stage lights… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward Well you hung up your tank-top with random precision - Be careful you don’t want to freeze You washed off the greasepaint, you made your decision, and turned off the showman, just as it was our turn to shine! Nobody knows where you are... how near or how far… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward It doesn’t feel like it should – Two out of three ain’t as good… Shine on you crazy Bar-Steward And we'll bask in the shadow of yesterday's triumph and exhale that icy cold breeze No-one’s a winner… we all end as losers - Last orders are here, take your glass to the bar ‘cause it’s time