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Sat'day Neet Fever (2013) [includes bonus video​-​stream access]

by The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican

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1.
Pint Fever 03:35
Pint Fever (Lyrics: Andy Doonican / Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   I’ve only got ten pounds, but there’s boozin’ all ararnd If there’s summat goin’ darn, it’s beer, and I’ll drink it On the way to the club, we’ll be hittin’ ev’ry pub All the lasses stop n’ stare, ‘cos we look reight fit   And that sweet Barnsley barmaid, She moves through the pub Controllin’ me mind and me cash When you reach art for me lass, and you pass me me pint   I get pint fever, pint fever, And we know how to drink it Got that pint fever, pint fever, Drunk and I’m gonna show it   Here I am, prayin’ that me lager will last Dining on the music so fine, The curry’s givin’ me wind But this pint is mine!          At our local pub, they also serve some decent grub But I’ve only got enough to get drunk til t’mornin’ I’ve got fire in me loins, and a pocketful o’ coins And I’m bustin’ better moves than Stephen Hawking   And that sweet Barnsley barmaid, She moves through the pub Controllin’ me mind and me cash When you reach art for me lass and you pass me me pint   I get pint fever, pint fever, In the mornin’ I’ll be shattered But we’ve got pint fever, pint fever, And we’re gonna get so bladdered (Worse than we’ve ever done before)   And theer’s ‘ar lass, hopin’ that I’m goin’ to last ‘cos I’ve gone and drunk me’sen blind And I just wanna sleep ‘cos it’s past me bedtime   I get pint fever, pint fever, And we know how to drink it Got that pint fever, pint fever Drunk and I’m gonna show it (Drink like we’ve never drunk before)
2.
Stalking On Facebook (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   I don’t know if you love me or hate me, I’m really not sure But since you went and found me on Facebook, I’ve been locking me doors ‘cos every time I go to me inbox Your message is found With a picture of you in me tank-top And your trousers down   You’re stalking on Facebook, oh no You’re stalking on Facebook, oh no Don’t stalk me on Facebook, oh no ‘cos you’re up to no good   You comment on all of my photos and statuses too You’re pretending you’re Deirdre from Goldthorpe But I know that it’s you ‘cos you know what I’ve done, where I’m going, What day, at what time But now that you’ve poked me That’s just where I’m drawing the line   You’re stalking on Facebook, oh no You’re stalking on Facebook, oh no Don’t stalk me on Facebook, oh no ‘cos you’re up to no good   I dun’t feel the love, I’ve had enough Stop stalking me and bugger off I dun’t feel the love, I’ve had enough Stop stalking me and bugger off ‘cos I’m on to you sunshine, wo-woah I’m on to you sunshine, wo-woah I’m on to you sunshine, wo-woah And now you’ve been blocked
3.
I Fought The Lawn (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Ar’ lass med me go and do the garden I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn and the lawn won She said “Just have some patience!”, but I’ve got none I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn and the lawn won   So I’m stuck art in the garden and it looks reight bad We’ve got mole hills the size of King Kong Then I run ovver the wire, Now the mower’s dead and gone I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn and the lawn won   So she left me with the strimmer in the hot sun I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn and the lawn won It looks thinner than Yul Brynner now that I’ve done I fought the lawn and the lawn, now we’ve got none I fought the lawn and the lawn’s gone   I missed watchin’ t’telly and I’m reight dischuffed ‘cos she’ll ‘ave switched Nigella off If she’s sat theer watchin' Ground Force… It’s goin’ to kick off ‘cos I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn and the lawn won ‘cos I fought the lawn and the lawn won I fought the lawn… now the lawn’s gone!
4.
Viva Skeg-Vegas (Lyrics: Andy Doonican / Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Bright light Skeggy goin’ art toneet I’m gonna set this tarn on fire Got a bit o’ money that I’m ready to burn So get me a pint now, squire ‘cos there’s a thousand loose women That are waitin’ art there And they’re drinking pints of devil may care And I’m just a Doonican letting darn me hair In Viva Skeg-Vegas, Viva Skeg-Vegas How I wish that there were more Than twenty-four hours in the day ‘cos even if there were twenty-four more You know I wouldn’t sleep a minute away ‘cos there’s a Butlin’s, a shitty beach and 99’s here And a dozen scabby donkey’s that have got diarrhea And it’s allus bad if you catch crabs on the pier In Viva Skeg-Vegas, Viva Skeg-Vegas Viva Skeg-Vegas wi’ your illuminations flashin’ And yer penny slots a-crashin’ All my money darn the drain Viva Skeg-Vegas, drinkin’ day into nighttime Drinkin’ night into daytime If you drink theer once, you’ll never be the same again I’m goin’ for me stag-do and I’m gonna get stewed I’m gonna get art of me mind If end up skint then I’ll allus remember That we had uzselves a reight good time And I’m gonna drink all the beer they’ve got ‘cos that’s the only thing that’s gonna hit the spot Let me shart art for a pint just to wash darn ev’ry shot In Viva Skeg-Vegas, Viva Skeg-Vegas, Viva Skeg-Vegas, Viva, viva Skeg-Vegas
5.
Portaloo 02:44
Portaloo (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Oh my, the portaloos are absolutely mingin’ Oh yeah, but I have had three days of holdin’ it all in And I know not pooing is bad for your health But it’s better than shitting yourself   Portaloo, the festival food’s med me bum so sore Portaloo, I’ve queued up and now I can’t shut the door Portaloo, no amount of wet-wipes are gonna do Portaloo, like Russian Roulette, I’m not trying you Woah woah woah woah portaloo There’s no way I’m facing the portaloo   Oh my, I tried to block the smell but it was stronger Oh God, there’s no loo-roll, there’s no lights or santiser for me hands It was dark, I was drunk, now I’m blue ‘cos I’ve piddled all over me shoes   Portaloo, no way to predict what you’ve got in store Portaloo, what horrible things lurk behind your door? Portaloo, I wish that yer contents were out of view Portaloo, thought it was a fart, but I followed through Woah woah woah woah portaloo There’s no way I’m facing the portaloo   I hope this horrible feeling goes off ‘cos I’m desperate and I’m touching cloth   Portaloo, I’ve been defeated, you won the war Portaloo, what dirty get’s done one on the floor Portaloo, the smell inside here, it’s like Chester Zoo Portaloo, having to squat for a Number 2 Woah woah woah woah portaloo Finally facing the portaloo Woah woah woah woah portaloo I’m never embracing the portaloo
6.
Jehovah’s To Call (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Here we stand in the hall, Pretending we’re not there at all They ring the bell, look for a light, But no bugger’s opening up tonight They don’t waste no time at all; Foot in t’door as you answer their call They’ll come to you as to us all, We’re just waiting for the Jehovah’s to call   From morning light, through every day A bunch of people could be calling your way Maybe the postie, or Avon lady, The window-cleaner or the bloke from next door They’ll knock you up just to explain And hope their magazines will cover it all With their message to proclaim You know it’s time for the Jehovah’s to call   They really dun’t like knock-knock jokes ‘cos they claim that it’s The Truth So dun’t slam your door when they come calling, Just invite ‘em for a brew ‘cos I’ll tell thee nar they wain’t know what to do!   They can bray reight loud ‘til their hands are sore What the bloody hell they doin’ it for? With half a chance, they’ll leave The Watchtower Like Larry Grayson, I’ll be shutting that door What’re we behind the sofa for? We’re on the inside, they’re behind the front door You’ve just got time to say your prayers While you’re waiting for the Jehovah’s to call
7.
Eaten Alive 03:44
Eaten Alive (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Well you can tell by the way I can hardly walk I’ve been bitten theer, no time to talk I’ve got prickly heat and I’m feeling warm I’ve been dined on by a chuffin’ swarm I’m not alright, I’m not okay A tube of cream wain’t save the day At least you can start to understand Why I’m looking like the Elephant Man   Whenever I’m on holiday, in the night I’m allus getting eaten alive, eaten alive Feel the buggers biting me In places that they shouldn’t be Been eaten alive, eaten alive   Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive, eaten alive Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive   I’ve been bitten so low that my voice is high And if it swells much more I’m gonna cry Me plums are the size of the south of France I’ve got no ants in me pants, but I’ve got to dance They itch like mad, I’m reight pigged off They even hurt when I try to cough I asked the doctor t’other day “Can you leave the swelling, but tek the pain away?”   Whenever I’m on holiday, in the night I’m allus getting eaten alive, eaten alive Feel the buggers biting me In places that they shouldn’t be Eaten alive, eaten alive Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive, eaten alive Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive   (Odd looks from the people on the dance-floor)   The swelling’s going nowhere, Somebody help me, somebody help me The mossies think I’m dinner, Somebody help me, somebody help me I’ve been eaten alive   Won’t be repelled, won’t let me be I try to hide but they still find me I’ve sprayed the room, I’ve sprayed me skin I’ve got a net ararnd me keks but they still get in   Whenever I’m on holiday, in the night I’m allus getting eaten alive, eaten alive Feel the buggers biting me In places that they shouldn’t be Eaten alive, eaten alive   Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive, eaten alive Ah, ah, ah, ah, eaten alive
8.
'elp! 02:18
 ‘elp! (Lyrics: Scott Doonican)   ‘elp! I need somebody ‘elp! Christ, send me anybody ‘elp! you know I need someone ‘elp!   When I was art rarnd Tarn at neet last Saturday I never thought that I’d be needing ‘elp in anyway My poor old liver cried from the pain that it endured I got so blind, I were art o’ me mind, And I fell darn on the floor   ‘elp me if you can ‘cos I’ve fallen darn But the drunks art on the street just walked ararnd Just ‘elp me get my feet back on the ground Won’t you please, please ‘elp me   And how the Tarn has changed in oh so many ways I was helped by some pensioners Who’d been on Songs of Praise They said we’re street pastors, We’ll pray for where you’re sore They helped me up, and give me watter to sup And they ‘elped me off of the floor   They’ll ‘elp you if they can when you’re face darn In a puddle of your own sick when you’re in t’Tarn They may look like the audience members on Countdown But in Jesus’ name will help thee   When I went art last neet I saw ‘em yet again They gave some flip-flops to a lass who was in pain Her high-heeled shoes had left her feet in agony She couldn’t walk, but they sat and talked About God’s guarantee   That He’ll help you if He can when you fall darn Or even if you’ve gone berserk and had ten rounds Bringing prayers and watter to the drunks in Tarn And they’ll lend a hand to ‘elp thee, ‘elp thee, ‘elp thee
9.
The Fight For The Tea Rooms (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   Lining up, out on the street It teks some time to mek advances Queued some distance Christ I’m three streets away Just a bloke with a throat that’s bone dry Waste the day; nothing moves fast I’ve got a passion for Earl Grey Don’t lose your grip as the cream teas go past You must fight for a table inside   It’s the queue for the Tea Rooms, it’s the thrill of the fight Linin’ up for espressos, buns and trifles And you’re waitin’ for Betty’s, you could wait until night Whilst she’s rakin’ it in with the queue… for the Tea Rooms   Face to face, they beckon you in You tell the waiter you’re hungry Look darn the menu and you notice the price How the hell does this business survive?   It’s the queue for the Tea Rooms, it’s the thrill of the fight Linin’ up for espressos, buns and trifles And you’re waitin’ for Betty’s, you could wait until night Whilst she’s rakin’ it in with the queue… for the Tea Rooms   The anger’s rising up, you could blow your top A tenner spent on a cuppa You’ve gone the distance, now you’re calling the shots No posh nosh, I’ve a will to imbibe   I want four pints of Stella and a plate of pork pies I want fish and chips with mushy peas and gravy And I dun’t want yer bun tray and yer doilies are shite Stick it right up yer arse with the queue… for your tea rooms
10.
The Lady In Greggs (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   I’ve nivver seen your baps Look as lovely as they did tonight They looked tasty, wholemeal and white I’ve nivver known a lass Who really knew the way to a man’s heart A gorgeous muffin and a good lookin’ tart And I have never seen quite a dressing As the stuff you’re packing into that baguette You’ve got me in a sweat   The Lady in Greggs, she meks pasties for me through the week And when she meks sausage rolls I forget how to speak She’s really got technique And I can’t resist her steak bakes on the side I’ll nivver forget the super snap that she supplied   Nivver had a BLT taste as gorgeous as it did tonight Tonsils tingling with savo’ry delight, and smokey bacon I’ve nivver seen a chocolate éclair With such a creamy inside And then I turn to you and smile ‘cos it teks me breath away And I’ve nivver had such a feeling The feeling that I’m well and truly stuffed, But I’m satisfied   The Lady in Greggs, she meks pasties for me through the week And with muffins so moist, my knees just go weak They really are unique And I am so sure, her goods they won’t turn stale I’ll nivver forget the gorgeous grub she’d got on sale  
11.
(Alan Lost His Wig On) Route 66 (Lyrics: Scott Doonican / Amanda White)   When Alan went to conquer the US He took the highway, which was meant to be the best But lost his wig on route sixty-six. In a campervan, he set off from Frisco Bay More than two thousand miles all the way. He lost his wig on Route Sixty-Six.   Well he stopped off in Jackson to get him some action No need for hairspray… some bugger pinched his toupee So he spent the next fortneet looking art for his thatch He wandered so wigless, looking for a witness Who may have seen the rug-rustling smugglers… It’s a crime, only a lowlife could commit And without it, Alan wasn’t looking so hip They pinched his wig on Route Sixty-Six.   He then asked the police if they’d found his hairpiece But they couldn’t release the names of the hair thieves The Chief said to Alan, “We’ll get the force on the case From Vegas to Reno, we’ll ask if they’ve seen owt We’ll check every rest room from San Bernadino” And with that, the wig hunt was underway There were SWAT teams and patrol cars all the way Tracking darn his wig on Route Sixty-Six   The cops stopped a trucker who wasn’t a looker But when they looked nearer it all became clearer He was bald as a duck egg And was wearing Alan’s rug on top Trying to cross the border, he was really out of order They slammed on the cuffs and took him off to prison And with that, the wig-hunt was at an end Alan reunited with his long lost friend They found his wig on Route Sixty-Six
12.
Queasy 05:46
Queasy (Lyrics: Scott Doonican)   It’s really not funny, you know I can’t stand the pain I had a rough neet on the Cointreau I supped the Stella and t’Guinness darn like a drain Should’ve left that pint of Pernod   That’s why I’m queasy Queasy on Sunday morning I’m feelin’ queasy Queasy on Sunday morning   Why on Earth did I polish-off all of that garlic bread I woke up wi’ me face darn in t’toilet No Alka-Seltzer’s gonna fix my throbbing head It’s like a barrelful of brokken biscuits            That’s why I’m queasy Queasy on Sunday morning I’m feelin’ queasy Queasy on Sunday morning   Can’t face owt that’s fried, oooh me insides I wanna be left alone until I feel alright I need a big cup o’ tea, yeah that’ll do me   That’s why I’m queasy Queasy on Sunday morning I’m feelin’ queasy Queasy on Sunday morning

credits

released February 2, 2013

Scott Doonican: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Electric Guitar, Bouzouki, Mandolin, Banjo, Kazoo, Ukulele, Banjulele, Keyboards, Piano, Accordion

Alan Doonican #1: Piano, Accordion

Andy Doonican: Bouzouki, 12-String Acoustic Guitar

Recorded at Scott's House in Barnsley Rock City
Produced by Scott Doonican

Live at the Lamproom show filmed at The Lamproom Theatre, Barnsley on 2nd Feb 2013. Edited and produced by Martin Thornton.

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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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