VILLAGE IDIOT

O’Peesha – When we had the shop, we used to dread Thursdays. So many fucking dribbling buffoons and windowlickers used to plague us in there:- its obscene.
One example:
This old bloke used to come in every Thursday and dance around like a marionette- you know, like someone was pulling his strings from upstairs. He’d just walk in and start to dance and shout: “Doe!” “Doe!” -For about twenty minutes.

Git – Indeed I was myself tricked into menial shop duty on a Thursday. A smelly chap came in and asked me to play him a record: “Through the big speakers!”
“These, my dear chap, are filing cabinets.” I responded. I flicked the radio on, and he started to dance. To an interview with Kenny Dalglish.


VILLAGE IDIOT
ƒ A D E G
Its thirty foot long and it stinks of piss, sores and scabs all over it
Its rude, its wrinkled, its veins are blue,
Its the Thursday morning pension queue
Senile retards out for a drive, you’re stuck behind a Lada for miles
They drool, they dribble, they cough, they wheeze,
They make you queue for hours at Sainsbury’s

Fuck off down the post office, if you’re handicapped
Village idiot competition for mutants, geeks and spacks

Hobbling, wobbling, doddering, slobbering, stammering, staggering fools.
Dunces, dullards, demented dimwits, imbeciles, buffoons.
Shuffling halfwits interbred, simpletons with mis-shaped heads, rotting fossils, decomposing,
Ninnies with no teeth.
Wronglybuilts, grinning, gurning, incontinents and freaks.

©1993 The Macc Lads
N.B.- Ladas – Old persons’ cars, powered by a rubber bands, only appear when you’re in a hurry.
They’re driven by people who wear hats in the car, and eat picnics in lay-bys of busy dual carriageways.

N.B.- Sainsbury’s – A supermarket on Cumberland St.
It has an uneven, muddy carpark built on a steep gradient- (hence a preponderance of
Jeeps, Range Rovers, and other 4 -wheel drive vehicles parked therein).

VIGILANTE SHANTY

Git – The unwelcome return of Uncle Knobby. Macc made the 9 0’Clock news when some wretched burglar was stripped, tarred, feathered and chained up by locals. Personally, I would destroy all offenders:- everyone from women drivers to crusty old perverts like … well, like Uncle Knobby actually.

Knobby – I’ve got some warm liver in my trousers.


VIGILANTE SHANTY
ƒ 3/4 E D F# G F Em Am C
I used to be disgusting, now I’m just obscene
I lick the feet of lamp posts where dogs have recently been
I loiter near the pet shop, I loiter with intent
I loiter near the hamsters, then I loiter in the gents
(We spy creeps and lechers behind our privet hedges)
(Come on, chant a shanty for the village vigilante)
(We prosecute and pester poofs and child molesters)
(Come on, chant a shanty for the village vigilante)

Some men’s wee is orange, some men’s wee is yellow
I collect it up in jam jars and hide it under my pillow
Sometimes we have wee parties, my friend Nigel likes to boil it
Jason has a spot of milk, I like it straight from the toilet

(We’ve watched you being offensive behind our picket fences)
(Come on, chant a shanty for the village vigilante)
(Perverts all despise us, we’re the fairy liquidisers)
(Come on, chant a shanty for the village vigilante)

©1993 The Macc Lads

VERSE LXIX

Muttley – A song about a naughty nun, which never got released. Slimy said it was too much to take the piss out of religion as well as everything else. Which was bollocks. He nicked the tape and put it in safe keeping in the hope that one of us would get killed by something thrown on stage. Then he would release it and retire.

Mard – I’m sure I’ve seen Slimy in the audience handing round catapults.
Chorley – And grenades.
Git – Unfounded, groundless accusations. I was in Bournemouth at the time… And I have never seen any of you before in my life.


VERSE LXIX
ƒ D Em7 A Em
She liked a fancy liquor (licker), she was called the Naughty Nun,
Her daddy was a vicar, her brother was a monk,
She wore dirty knickers and she liked the taste of spunk
Its what she drunk
She shagged like a rabbit when she got out the habit
She booked a nine-hour session when she went to do confession
She did her fornication with all the congregation
Chapter nine, verse sixty nine says:

“I’m the new messiah, I turn water into wine
Got a kit from Tesco it was four pounds one and nine
And its divine”

The rector wrecked her rectum when he tied her to his lectern
The preacher tried to teach her how to hold his wedding tackle
While the canon shot his load off just behind the tabernacle
Chapter nine, verse sixty nine says:

“I’m the new messiah, I turn bitter into piss
Here’s the second coming, get your lips around my pips
Genesis, verse sixty six”

“I’m the new messiah, there’s the burning bush
I’ll put my fag out next time that I’m chewing on your chuff”
(Leviticus)

©1984 The Macc Lads
N.B. Four Pounds One and Nine: = £4.1s.9d (£4. 1/9d) or four pounds & nine new pence.

UNCLE KNOBBY

Git – Never played live because the band refused to have that crusty pervert in the van.
Especially not after that business with the coypu. Personally, reprehensible though his personal habits are, I have always been impressed by his very reasonable rates. History will record that the chorus was sung by Buboe, a girlfriend of one of the band… so called as she appeared as a shapely growth under his armpit.

Knobby – I wiped my foreskin in Mrs Rigsby’s butterdish.


UNCLE KNOBBY
ƒ 3/4 Em Am G Bm C
My name is Uncle Knobby, I hang around primary schools
Underneath my raincoat, I’m always totally nude
I show my navel fluff collection to lots of fully-clothed men
I get a full erection, and have to rush to the gents
Ooh! Uncle Knobby, can’t we please go home?
Why do you hide in the bushes? What have you done with our clothes?

I introduce my penis to hamsters, gerbils and mice
I like to read Fiesta, and peek at the reader’s wives

Ooh! Uncle Knobby, where’s our special treat?
Why do you keep taking pictures and sniffing our bicycle seats?

I grummidge in my portfolio, which is full of Tampax ads
I look up my own bottom with mirrors from ladies’ handbags

Ooh! Uncle Knobby, can’t we please go home?
We’ve never seen any dildos, we don’t want to wear pantyhose
Ooh! Uncle Knobby, Why have you smeared us with cake?
We don’t like standing in custard, and we don’t want to play with your snake.

©1987 The Macc Lads

UGLY WOMEN

McCavity – I got ratarsed recording this. The bottleneck guitar was a bastard. I used a can of beer, but it only sounded right if it was just over half full. I got through fifty cans.
O’Peesha – You told me sixty!
Mard – Go on…? You said you got pissed… So what else did you drink? Eh? Pansy.


UGLY WOMEN
ƒ G Bb F
“Just take a look over there. Is that one fit, with the long dark hair?”
“She’s got to be a mucky tart, her mate looks like a madman’s arse.”
“Can I have the fit one?”
“Now don’t be boring.”
“My knob’s cotdeath – its one foot long, and hard to get up in the morning!”
Thank fuck for ugly women, all the boilers, bags and trolls
Just so they could get a shag, they invented alcohol

She had a face a pig wouldn’t lick, complexion like a bag of sick
Underneath her hanging gut, an alsatian with its windpipe cut
Real fish in her fishnets, and squashed in a paste,
Two eels (heels), two soles, and between her legs
A very smelly plaice (place)

©1989 The Macc Lads
N.B.- It is a well known fact that girls travel in pairs of contrasting appearance. i.e. A fit bird will always have a mate that lives under a stone; a very fit bird will have a chum from the circus. If you see a really hideously deformed car crash victim, wipe away that vomit and buy her pal a pint.

TWO STROKE EDDIE

Git – I decided to audition the girls for the role of Stella Strict. I narrowed it down to two… One had a great voice, the other had fantastic stage presence. Which one got the job? The one with the biggest tits.

Muttley – Eddie never pulled. But one night at a party this bird got dead pissed and ended up sleeping with him. Next day he panicked: “Is she pregnant? Have I caught something?” He was in a right flap. He asked me to ask her what the score was. She said: “I didn’t even know he’d been in!”

TWENTY PINTS

Muttley – I went out drinking in Bollington. This old bloke was wittering, and I just used his whole conversation for the song. An old woman came in the pub and he shouts: “Alright Ethel, ‘ave y’ad a wash today?” Shame we couldn’t squeeze that line in.

Beater – The first time I played this on stage was about ten minutes after I first heard it.
Stez – We met Abdul at the station and gave him his guitar and said: “We’re on in half an hour, and we’re playing a new song that non of us has heard yet.” He shat bricks.

TURTLES HEADS

O’Peesha – The original version had an out of tune piano and pint pots. It was dead good. Then Mard came along with all these fancy chords. I said: “Diminished ninths? You big pansy!” Of course I didn’t use those exact words, I probably said: “Brilliant Mard, you’re the best axeman ever.”

Slob – Years ago, Muttley came round to my hovel, shouting: “Slob! You up yet?” I was on the bog, and shouted back:”Ang on! There’s a turd hanging out me arse.” Of course, he’d brought some woman round to meet me. Ah well…

TORREMOLINOS

Git – This ditty has appeared in many guises. No one could agree which version was best. Personally I liked the first version, but my bruises would suggest that it was a mistake to offer any opinion to my petulant little charges.

Knobby – I like Spanish women’s armpits.

TICKET TO DIE

Git – Muttley and Mard list all the lengths they will go to to secure a cup final ticket. Wishful thinking, as their beloved Macc Town have yet to get beyond the 3rd round.