Tales From The Locker Room

by The Jung Ones

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02:17
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03:09
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02:38
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credits

released October 11, 2016

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The Jung Ones Edinburgh, UK

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Track Name: Fawlty Tenements
Fawlty Tenements

And now for something completely diffident...

You can stuff yer roads and telly and SNPs
We got Theresa May and John Cleese
We're proud of our nationalism but not yours
We love Lizzie, Charlie and Ed Baws

Know your place - in your fawlty tenements
Shut your face - we know what's good for you
Just in case you ungrateful cunts
Throw disgrace on our pleasant land of blue

Half man, half educated
Reviled, uncouth and hated
It's amazing you have the wherewithal
To eke out a life at all

Wing Commander Ruth believes
Those chippy Scots are a bunch of thieves
Time to re-instate that national anthem verse
About those rebellious Scots to crush

And did those feet in ancient times do a silly walk?
Track Name: Theresa!
Theresa!

Lock up your daughters
Lock up your sons
Lock up your dalmations
You had 99 problems and that's pretty bad, son
But now you've got over 101

Theresa!

Your human rights
Are in her sights
She May be wrong, She May be right
You had 99 problems with David Cameron
Now you're locked in room 101

Theresa!

Trees are green, trees are brown
Trees emerge from underground
Theresa may be trees from the Wizard of Oz
Grabby, grabby, grabby and poisonous
Theresa!
Track Name: Eat Y'Self Twitter
Eat Y'Self Twitter

Embedded Image Permalink
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Oh remember when twitter fell (Embedded Image Permalink)
You had to talk to people, well...(Embedded Image Permalink)
Telegram from 1999 (Embedded Image Permalink)
We're having a fantastic time (Embedded Image Permalink)

Embedded Image Permalink
Embedded Image Permalink

I think the computers have won (What's a computer? What's a computer?)
Going back to 1951 (What's a computer? What's a computer?)
The world is black and white again (What's a computer? What's a computer?)
Here's your paper, here's your pen (What's a computer? What's a computer?)

Eat y'self twitter
Eat y'self twitter
Eat y'self twitter
Eat y'self twitter

Productivity is down
Ruby's with her love in town
Do you remember Gordon Brown
or the first minister's dressing gown?
Track Name: The Burly Men Of Annan
The Burly Men Of Annan

Well, my thirst to exercise
my democratic right
has been thwarted

My local polling station
is under intimidation
I am taunted

By shadowy figures
And threatening liggers
called Eric and Steven and Darren
Otherwise known around these parts
as the burly men of Annan

Well I have to confess
I was in a right mess
I was anxious and fractious
and fearful

They shot me a glance
I near wet my pants
I was shaking and quaking
and tearful

Oh those shadowy figures
And threatening liggers
called Eric and Steven and Darren
Otherwise known around these parts
as the burly men of Annan

I phoned my friend Ruth
to tell her the truth
so she could alert the nation

She fired off a tweet
to the cyber elite
warning of the infestation

I wiz worried aw jings
But Ruthy said things
could only get better
together vote early
avoiding those burly
men in their Arran sweaters

the gates were wrought iron not pearly
their overall demeanour was surly
chewing on a curly wurly
those Annan men ever so burly

In this land of sticks and carrots
We're opening up the postal ballots
With a crowbar, cos we can
I'm the surly burly man.
Track Name: KKKaye Took My Radio Away
KKKaye Took My Radio Away

Don't call don't call Kaye Radio
Scotland

She went away from the Adams family
Said she's gonna be a DJ
And she nearly got there
She nearly got there
She nearly got there, they say

Don't Call Kaye
The brain decay will set in almost straightaway
And it's your money
The licence fee
Paying for the BBC

KKKaye took my radio away
She took it away
Away from me
KKKaye took my radio away
She took it away
She took my radio from me

Ringing ringing ringing
Up the Call Kaye show
To tell her exactly where to go
She played my macaroni song
For 30 seconds flat
And then said
That's enough of that
Yeah, yeah, yeah

o o o o o o
o o o o o o

We want the airwaves
That's right, that's right
We want the airwaves
Turn off that shite

We want the airwaves (KKKaye took my radio away)
That's right, that's right
We want the airwaves (KKKaye took my radio away)
Turn off that shite
Track Name: Project Farce
PROJECT FARCE

Don't come round here, Don't come round here,
We've done away with Project Fear
We've moved on to Project Farce
Boris Johnson - what an arse

The cunt, the cunt, the country
Is rudderless and all at sea
The Labour Party's not been idle
They've gone all mass suicidal

There's no Plan A, There's no Plan B,
There's no Plan C, There's no Plan D,
There's no Plan E, There's no Plan F,
They're speechless, blind and fucking deaf

Don't come round here, Don't come round here,
We've done away with Project Fear
We've moved on to Project Farce
Boris Johnson - arse!
Track Name: Disnaeland
Disnae Land

He disnae like papers
He disnae like news
He disnae like points
He disnae like views

He disnae like this
He disnae like that
He disnae like dogs
He disnae like cats

Welcome to disnae land
tickets are free
welcome to disnae land
come and join me

He disnae like you
He disnae like me
He disnae like coffee
He disnae like tea

He disnae like black
He disnae like white
He disnae like wrong
He disnae like right

Welcome to disnae land
tickets are free
welcome to disnae land
come and join me

He disnae like disco
He disnae like soul
He disnae like rock
He disnae like roll

He disnae like guns
He disnae like tasers
He disnae like handcuffs
He disnae like lasers

Welcome to disnae land
tickets are free
welcome to disnae land
come and join me

He disnae like TVs
He disnae like phones
He disnae like muslims
He disnae like drones

He disnae like her
He disnae like him
He disnae like happy
He disnae like grim

He disnae like land
He disnae like air
He disnae like sea
and he disnae fucking care
Track Name: The Mumbling Song
The Mumbling Song

Underground, overground, mumbling free
The mumbles of Alistair Darling are we
Better together without Frankie Boyle
Feel Kim Jong-il in the blood and the soil

Uncle Eck Salmond, oh, he can remember the days
When he wasn't in the Times
Or News of the World
Pick up the papers and take them to the lavatory

Mumbles are organised, work as a team
Mumbles are messy and often obscene
In the New Statesman we're mumbling free
The mumbles of Alistair Darling are we

People don't notice us, they never hear
Inaudible mumbles right into their ear
Mumble by night and we mumble by day
Looking for libels to trundle away

We're so incredibly utterly devious
Making the most of everything
Even old Vlad Putin
Pick up the faeces and spin them into something new
It's what we do

Underground, overground, mumbling free
The mumbles of Alistair Darling are we
Better together without Frankie Boyle
Feel Kim Jong-il in the blood and the soil

Inaudible mumble (Blood and soil, Kim Jong-il)
Inaudible mumble (Blood and soil, Kim Jong-il)
Remember member member what an inaudible mumble you are
Track Name: Noel Edmonds' Cancer Box
Noel Edmonds' Cancer Box

It's No.1
It's Top of the Pops
It's Noel Edmonds' Cancer Box

There's a man with a plan
And a helicopter and a gunge tank
He's mistra Noel

He's not weird, and his beard
In some circles is still revered
He's mistra Noel

Deal or no deal's just a hobby
He's gonna bring back Mr Blobby
The apocalypse is zooming in
But never mind, here's Keith Chegwin
And who is that he's got with him?
Bloody hell, Maggie Philbin

Oh oh oh oh oh oh

Accentuate the positive
Exterminate the negative
He's mistra Noel

Call the banker, call swap shop
It's Noel Edmonds' Cancer Box
He's mistra Noel
Track Name: Aw Fuck, It's Andrew Lloyd Webber
AW FUCK IT'S ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER

He loves his ermine, he loves his throne
He's got more front than Michelle Mone
And that woman from The Apprentice whose name escapes me

You won't believe him
All you will see is a bullfrog that smirks
Although he's trussed up like a lord
George Osborne gives him the horn

George called him over and told him to vote
Keep your heel on Les Miserables throat
With a swish of his cloak, he did what he was told

He's worth millions
Even Ben Elton has sucked from his teet
The middle class elite lap it up
What is the point of this cunt?

Aw fuck it's Andrew Lloyd Webber
The twat with the melted wax coupon
He does ma nut in, his mere existence
Frightens the children, just keep yer distance

Aw fuck it's Andrew Lloyd Webber...
These posh cunts all stick together