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The Gasman Cometh (2018)

by The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican

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about

Taken from the forthcoming album 'The Place Of Spades'
All proceeds from this track will go to Shelter

lyrics

Well not that long ago
I can still remember feeling cold, cross and hostile
And if I'd been a wiser man
I’d have opted for their 4-Star Plan
And maybe I'd be cozy for a while

But Christmas Eve it made me shiver
Each room was icy like a blizzard
Rang the British Gas Man
Who turned up with his gas van
It cost 100 quid for him to peer inside
To merely shake his head, and turn and sigh
There was nowt he could do and I was mortified
The day me boiler died

I cried when me boiler had died
It was colder in me bungalow than it was outside
And the Gas Man couldn’t fix it, only offer advice
“I'd condemn that knackered boiler outright”
Before he disappeared off into the night...

Sat indoors in hat and gloves
While contemplating where to shove
The expansion vessel manifold
I’d lost my faith in British Gas
He could shove me boiler up his ass
Me turkey it had goose pimples it was that cold.

Well, at the time, it seemed too posh
But I wish I’d bought that Worcester Bosch
Cos they had the best reviews
And now me house was like an igloo
Well it was safe to say I had come unstuck
My boiler would have to be chucked
Into a skip, cos it was… brok
The day me boiler died

And I were freezin'...
Yes, I cried cos me boiler had died
It was colder in me bungalow than it was outside
And I was searching for the answers that they couldn’t provide
I would have to let me tank-tops drip-dry
Have to let me tank-tops drip-dry

Now, on Christmas Day I was on the phone
To British Gas to rant and moan
Their engineer didn’t call at noon
It felt like winter in Aberdeen
And I shivered while venting me spleen
To an automated voice and Coldplay tunes

Well I sat in throughout Boxing Day
And still no Gas Man came my way
They seemed quite unconcerned
And me calls were not returned
And as our house went back to the Stone Age
I paced up and down, in fits of rage
Like a Yorkshire Gordon Ramsey in a cage
The day me boiler died

And I were fumin'...
Yes, I cried cos me boiler had died
It was colder in me bungalow than it was outside
Said they had ordered parts, but then they never arrived
And I was pigged-off, cold and dissatisfied
Pigged-off, cold and dissatisfied

Well me defeated heater didn’t fear the reaper
The house it was cold, just like my demeanor
Eight degrees and falling fast
My mood was foul, I had not bathed
Or washed my hair for several days
But the Gas Man didn’t come… no he couldn’t be arsed

So I had to wash, cold, in the sink
Me hands were blue, me crinklies, pink
And me feet they stunk like hell
As did other parts as well!
And without that vital pilot light
Well, there was not a chance it would ignite
Me arse it froze for three more nights
After me boiler died

It was Baltic...
I cried cos me boiler had died
It was colder in me bungalow than it was outside
I was scared about the leaking of carbon monoxide
So opened all me windows up wide
And only then did the Gas Man arrive...

The boiler man came on New Year's Day
And he took that sodding thing away
And I was left with head in hands
I went down to the plumbing store
And underneath my breath I swore
And the man there said “This one... it costs four grand”

And in my head, my wallet screamed
I’d lost my shit, or so it seemed
But not a word was spoken
Cos the old one was still broken
Since Christmas Day I’d watched the clock
And had to boil a kettle to wash
But I finally got that Worcester Bosch
After, me old boiler died

And I were chuffin’ livid
I cried when me boiler had died
It was colder in me bungalow than it was outside
And I should have called a priest to have that thing exorcised
But holy water wasn’t supplied
Holy water wasn’t supplied

And I’d been shiverin’…
I know why, me wretched boiler had died
Unlike me new one, which can do one, cos the new one’s not shite
Efficient like ze Germans, who leave towels by poolsides
But mine was British and was badly designed

credits

released December 17, 2018

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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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