THELONIOUS MONK © Don Read
Some folk think that Monk played junk
That’s wrong and quite erroneous
He didn’t do hip hop or funk
He simple played Thelonious
BRING BACK THE 2X2 2003 © Don Read
Down town and country roads they roar
The huge and ugly -4x4
The highfalutin, high polluting Chelsea tractor
Oblivious of its fumes extractor
And now I see the bloke next door
Has gone and bought a 4x4
Should I join him-no I’ll wait
Till they produce an 8x8
PAG’S BAG 2002 © Don Read
An ode to Paganini (this fits the music by Andrew Lloyd-Webber but he would not give permission for a lyric so it’s a poem !
In 1782 in downtown Genoa
Mamma Paganini had a son, don’t ya knowa
When he was six he was a real virtuoso
He proclaimed, “On violin I am the greatest- only more so”
At eight years old he wrote a nice cantata
For the French he coined the famous Franc Sonata (That’s not strictly true, I made that bit up.)
He was so prolific
Critics said, “He’s terrific”
And his fame spread throughout Italy
Niccolo Paganini, he had a dream
And in that dream he wrote a cute little theme
It was a real mean theme
A theme de la crème
And everybody said he is a gen-i-us
In 1981 a chap with a cello
Played Paganini’s theme and made it sound less mellow
One day he chanced to play the theme to his mother
She said, “You should discuss this with your talented brother”.
And so the Lloyd-Webber boys, Julian and Andrew
Re-arranged the theme and added sounds that were brand new
And they added a beat
And it sounded a treat
And they cried, “Eureka, we have got a hit!”
A man from the television on the south bank
Said I don’t want to Bragg but I’ll be Earnest and Frank ( Well, nothing really rhymes with Melvin)
As a signature tune
It would be quite a boon
And they all shook hands and went off for a pint
Long live Paganini
They re-arranged his theme a teeny weeny
They thought it an improvement
Especially in the first and second movement
So Andy didn’t hesitate or suffer any qualms
The theme had variations by Schuman, Liszt and Brahms
If they could do it then why shouldn’t he
Paganini’s theme
It’s really a dream
You know what I mean
A theme de la crème
Jazz and Rock fans thought it quite a rave
But some critics said, “That ain’t no way to behave
Paganini would turn in his grave
If he were alive today”
So go find a little old tune by Chopin, Verdi or Liszt
And if you can, work out a plan
To give that theme a new twist
Then add a really strong beat
That knocks you right off your feet
Add words by some fellow
Like Elvis Costello (whoever he is)
And like the Lloyd-Webbers you’ll join the elite
ODE TO THE JOB HUNTER Oct 1996 ©Don Read
As I survey the “Sits. Vac” column
I get dismayed and sad and solemn
This one says, “We’re market leaders
In nuclear fast reactor breeders”.
Now here’s a job that might appeal
The hours, of course, are quite unreal
But OTE’s a hundred K
Plus exs. car and perks, they say
It’s I. T. Sat. Coms, CD Roms
Incoms, sitcoms, High Tech diddly om poms
Only high achievers need apply
To join the team in- URUGUAY?
Shaping distant global markets
Hitting ever upward targets
Negotiating at board level
Now that’s a job in which I’d revel
Clinching deals, exchanging contracts
Networking and making contacts
Loyal to the corporate structure
I’d toil until I got a rupture
With my mobile, laptop, fax
I’d synergize their info packs
Or should I try those other bleeders
And flog their fast reactor breeders
GILLIAN 2011 © Don Read
A very tall woman named Gillian
Played the lottery and won half a million
She said,”I would like
A huge motor bike”
And she steered whilst sat on the pillion
SMOOTH OPERA TOR © 2002 Don Read The overture is over the action can begin
The curtains part revealing our hero who will sing
With a tale to tell of treason, greed and lust and sin
He is Godolfo, the rich landowner’s son
He speculates that he’ll be rich when his father’s life is done
Then he’ll marry Angelina a poor but honest peasant
His family have rejected her as being quite unpleasant
As Godolfo sings and sets the plot on come the sprightly chorus
They’re dressed as gay young peasant folk – they chatter there before us
They huddle in a corner so we can’t hear what they say
Then off they go a –singing to toil in the fields all day.
Count Bottula, a fat and ugly man
Enters stage left singing of his diabolical plan
He’ll thwart our hero’s chances of inheriting his father’s riches
If necessary he will kill - and he quickly hoists up his britches
The wicked Count has got designs on pretty Angelina
“Where is the girl, where can she be, has anybody seen her?”
She enters singing gaily with a basketful of fruit
She sings of her love for Godolfo. He’s the one in the tight fitting suit
The Count whips out a dagger
and waves it in the air
He sings as he begins to stagger
“I’ll kill Godolfo’s dad then I’ll be a millionaire”.
Godolfo’s father enters, “What is all this commotion?”
The audience is quite perplexed. They haven’t got a notion
The chorus then depart offstage but they come back quite soon
The leading men are fighting – this could take all afternoon
Count Botulla ‘s in agony and writhing on the stage
He sings that he is dying and he’s really in a rage
Angelina enters trembling and Godolfo holds her tightly
The cast all sing. Take curtain calls.
And they do all this twice nightly
SHORT AND SNAPPY 2011-12
OLGA © Don Read 2007
There once was a Russian called Olga
Who decided to swim down the Volga
At Minsk she said, “I will try a Minsk pie”
She choked now the Olga from Volga’s. no longer
(OK The Volga goes nowhere near Minsk but you try working in the rivers Svislach & Niamiha)
POP © Don Read 2011
The day I climbed up Popocatepetl
I was feeling in the finest of fine fettle
I took plenty supplies
Marmite sandwiches, pork pies (product placement !)
Stuffed in my Aunt Matilda’s proper copper kettle
DOG’S DINNER © Don Read 2012
I went and bought a little poodle
They said it was a labradoodle
Didn’t bark and well behaved
The breed of dog for which I craved
It lapped up all my Chicken noodle
And ran off with my Apple Strudel
STUPID 14.5.12 © Don Read
A feckless young chap called Charlie Mac Cavity
Got drunk and fell over. He said,” It’s just gravity”
He had short life
Left six kids and a wife
Caused a great deal of strife
Through leaving a trail of blatant depravity
BOOK TO WRITE 2.5.12 © Don Read
I thought I ought to write a book.
Might bring money and good luck
subject matter ? well I’m stuck
Need to have a gripping plot
Got the tools. except one thing that I forgot
Paper, pens and dictionary
Then I really start to worry
Call at book shops round the town
Ask the staff but many frown
Some laughed and then begin to mock
When I asked to buy a writer’s block
I LEFT MY HEART IN WOLVERHAMPTON 3.1.06 © Don Read
I left my heart in Wolverhampton
I left my spleen in Aberdeen
I left my liver and my knees
In Stockton Upon Tees
And my brain on Salisbury Plain – in the rain.
My poor old nose was seen in Wapping
And my teeth in Cowdenbeath
Other bits of me you’ll find in Dover
So you can say that’s me all over
DAVE’S DINNERS 2005
An invite came from number 10
Dave said won’t you come to dinner
I got a little drunk and told Samantha she looked slimmer
I took off my bi-focals and tripped over Michael Winner
Everything happens to me
SOMNABULISM Don Read © 2012 Don Read
I joined a course on somnambulism
And found it very boring
It was very hard to concentrate
And I got ticked off for snoring
THE FANACKERPANS 22.5.12© Don Read
Mr and Mrs Fanackerpan,
whose first names were Dan and Jan had a plan
To drive all the way to Turkmenistan where they stayed with Dan’s cousins Fran and Stan
Bought back a souvenir shaped like a frying pan
DEFECTIVE DETECTIVE Don Read© 5.6.12
I thought I’d become a detective, a tough Private I, kinda guy
So I changed my name to Sherlock Soams, bought a book on “How To Spy”
I rented a really posh office ,and dreamt of a queue down the hall
I thought I was Humphrey Bogart just waiting for Lauren Bacall
Whilst I popped out for a quick cup of coffee ( shaken not stirred)
A thief stole my personal credentials,
My big bag of toffee and all my detective’s essentials
My Deer stalker hat, cape, pipe and door mat
Plus twelve of my favourite pencils
Out went my hopes of being James Bond
Clearing up crime on earth and beyond
I abandon all thoughts of detection
My stunning ideas met with rejection
But what would I tell my relations?
They all seemed to have great expectations
They took it all with “Told you so” grins
Except for two uncles who jumped out of their skins
They thought they’d be meeting Miss Lauren Bacall
If they joined the queue that stretched right down the hall
How could I tell them I’d been to the council and got a job emptying bins.
SOME ENCHANTED MORNING 2007
As the day was dawning
I could see you yarning
Across a crowded bed
And somehow I knew
To get close to you
I’d have to climb over your great uncle Fred
Announcement of impending parenthood 28.4.12 © Don Read
No more clues
No more guessing
The time has come for some confessing
We can now end the waiting
And announce, WE’RE INFANTICIPATING !
Word used in early editions of the New Musical Express
BILLET DOUX © Don Read 2001
He sent his girl a letter
A little Billet Doux
He said he planned to leave her
She pleaded “Billy don’t”
THE MIRACLE FROM MAYFAIR © Don Read 11.11.1980
In 1978 I somehow got involved with a company that
sold domestic goods(Mayfair Products) to the workforce of factories.
It’s a ninety nine piece indispensible
It’s cheap –and not expensible
No home should be without one so they say
It’s so handy in the garden
It will shout, “I beg your pardon”
As it knocks the children over whilst at play
It’s the wonder of the age
And it’s painted puce and beige
And you win a week in Wigan everytime you sell a set
If you like a country ramble
Or prefer to take a gamble
It can recommend a bookie and will even place a bet
Well. It’s made in Singapore
Where they don’t know what it’s for
You can take it back if it should fall apart
The instructions maybe wrong
They were printed in Hong Kong
So you’ll never find the switch to make it start
Every day I can be seen
In a factory canteen
With the kitchen ladies I cause an hiatus
I arrive at half past ten
And the ladies tell me when
I can demonstrate my amazing apparatus
It can give your car a wax
Work out your income tax
It can even calculate your VAT
It makes a noise like Hitler
Send a memo off to Mitra (company accountants)
And it’s packaged up in multiples of three
It is really labour saving
So handy when you’re shaving
It can wake you up with it’s built in alarm
It comes complete with fuses
An it’s got a million uses
Especially when you strap it to your arm
It will stand a lot wear
It will bounce but never tear
And it self destructs when reaching boiling point
It’s designed by Gordon Bleau
Can be used by him or her
And it guaranteed to burn your Sunday joint
There’s an automatic cut off
Designed to cut your foot off
If you should get entangles in the lead
If the pilot light glows red
Don’t go loose your head
It only means your leg’s begun to bleed
If you play games and you cheat
It will stamp upon you feet
It is programmed to thump those who don’t play fair
With its iridescent dimmer
It really is a winner
And they’re calling it the Miracle From Mayfair -Boom boom!
END
Some folk think that Monk played junk
That’s wrong and quite erroneous
He didn’t do hip hop or funk
He simple played Thelonious
BRING BACK THE 2X2 2003 © Don Read
Down town and country roads they roar
The huge and ugly -4x4
The highfalutin, high polluting Chelsea tractor
Oblivious of its fumes extractor
And now I see the bloke next door
Has gone and bought a 4x4
Should I join him-no I’ll wait
Till they produce an 8x8
PAG’S BAG 2002 © Don Read
An ode to Paganini (this fits the music by Andrew Lloyd-Webber but he would not give permission for a lyric so it’s a poem !
In 1782 in downtown Genoa
Mamma Paganini had a son, don’t ya knowa
When he was six he was a real virtuoso
He proclaimed, “On violin I am the greatest- only more so”
At eight years old he wrote a nice cantata
For the French he coined the famous Franc Sonata (That’s not strictly true, I made that bit up.)
He was so prolific
Critics said, “He’s terrific”
And his fame spread throughout Italy
Niccolo Paganini, he had a dream
And in that dream he wrote a cute little theme
It was a real mean theme
A theme de la crème
And everybody said he is a gen-i-us
In 1981 a chap with a cello
Played Paganini’s theme and made it sound less mellow
One day he chanced to play the theme to his mother
She said, “You should discuss this with your talented brother”.
And so the Lloyd-Webber boys, Julian and Andrew
Re-arranged the theme and added sounds that were brand new
And they added a beat
And it sounded a treat
And they cried, “Eureka, we have got a hit!”
A man from the television on the south bank
Said I don’t want to Bragg but I’ll be Earnest and Frank ( Well, nothing really rhymes with Melvin)
As a signature tune
It would be quite a boon
And they all shook hands and went off for a pint
Long live Paganini
They re-arranged his theme a teeny weeny
They thought it an improvement
Especially in the first and second movement
So Andy didn’t hesitate or suffer any qualms
The theme had variations by Schuman, Liszt and Brahms
If they could do it then why shouldn’t he
Paganini’s theme
It’s really a dream
You know what I mean
A theme de la crème
Jazz and Rock fans thought it quite a rave
But some critics said, “That ain’t no way to behave
Paganini would turn in his grave
If he were alive today”
So go find a little old tune by Chopin, Verdi or Liszt
And if you can, work out a plan
To give that theme a new twist
Then add a really strong beat
That knocks you right off your feet
Add words by some fellow
Like Elvis Costello (whoever he is)
And like the Lloyd-Webbers you’ll join the elite
ODE TO THE JOB HUNTER Oct 1996 ©Don Read
As I survey the “Sits. Vac” column
I get dismayed and sad and solemn
This one says, “We’re market leaders
In nuclear fast reactor breeders”.
Now here’s a job that might appeal
The hours, of course, are quite unreal
But OTE’s a hundred K
Plus exs. car and perks, they say
It’s I. T. Sat. Coms, CD Roms
Incoms, sitcoms, High Tech diddly om poms
Only high achievers need apply
To join the team in- URUGUAY?
Shaping distant global markets
Hitting ever upward targets
Negotiating at board level
Now that’s a job in which I’d revel
Clinching deals, exchanging contracts
Networking and making contacts
Loyal to the corporate structure
I’d toil until I got a rupture
With my mobile, laptop, fax
I’d synergize their info packs
Or should I try those other bleeders
And flog their fast reactor breeders
GILLIAN 2011 © Don Read
A very tall woman named Gillian
Played the lottery and won half a million
She said,”I would like
A huge motor bike”
And she steered whilst sat on the pillion
SMOOTH OPERA TOR © 2002 Don Read The overture is over the action can begin
The curtains part revealing our hero who will sing
With a tale to tell of treason, greed and lust and sin
He is Godolfo, the rich landowner’s son
He speculates that he’ll be rich when his father’s life is done
Then he’ll marry Angelina a poor but honest peasant
His family have rejected her as being quite unpleasant
As Godolfo sings and sets the plot on come the sprightly chorus
They’re dressed as gay young peasant folk – they chatter there before us
They huddle in a corner so we can’t hear what they say
Then off they go a –singing to toil in the fields all day.
Count Bottula, a fat and ugly man
Enters stage left singing of his diabolical plan
He’ll thwart our hero’s chances of inheriting his father’s riches
If necessary he will kill - and he quickly hoists up his britches
The wicked Count has got designs on pretty Angelina
“Where is the girl, where can she be, has anybody seen her?”
She enters singing gaily with a basketful of fruit
She sings of her love for Godolfo. He’s the one in the tight fitting suit
The Count whips out a dagger
and waves it in the air
He sings as he begins to stagger
“I’ll kill Godolfo’s dad then I’ll be a millionaire”.
Godolfo’s father enters, “What is all this commotion?”
The audience is quite perplexed. They haven’t got a notion
The chorus then depart offstage but they come back quite soon
The leading men are fighting – this could take all afternoon
Count Botulla ‘s in agony and writhing on the stage
He sings that he is dying and he’s really in a rage
Angelina enters trembling and Godolfo holds her tightly
The cast all sing. Take curtain calls.
And they do all this twice nightly
SHORT AND SNAPPY 2011-12
OLGA © Don Read 2007
There once was a Russian called Olga
Who decided to swim down the Volga
At Minsk she said, “I will try a Minsk pie”
She choked now the Olga from Volga’s. no longer
(OK The Volga goes nowhere near Minsk but you try working in the rivers Svislach & Niamiha)
POP © Don Read 2011
The day I climbed up Popocatepetl
I was feeling in the finest of fine fettle
I took plenty supplies
Marmite sandwiches, pork pies (product placement !)
Stuffed in my Aunt Matilda’s proper copper kettle
DOG’S DINNER © Don Read 2012
I went and bought a little poodle
They said it was a labradoodle
Didn’t bark and well behaved
The breed of dog for which I craved
It lapped up all my Chicken noodle
And ran off with my Apple Strudel
STUPID 14.5.12 © Don Read
A feckless young chap called Charlie Mac Cavity
Got drunk and fell over. He said,” It’s just gravity”
He had short life
Left six kids and a wife
Caused a great deal of strife
Through leaving a trail of blatant depravity
BOOK TO WRITE 2.5.12 © Don Read
I thought I ought to write a book.
Might bring money and good luck
subject matter ? well I’m stuck
Need to have a gripping plot
Got the tools. except one thing that I forgot
Paper, pens and dictionary
Then I really start to worry
Call at book shops round the town
Ask the staff but many frown
Some laughed and then begin to mock
When I asked to buy a writer’s block
I LEFT MY HEART IN WOLVERHAMPTON 3.1.06 © Don Read
I left my heart in Wolverhampton
I left my spleen in Aberdeen
I left my liver and my knees
In Stockton Upon Tees
And my brain on Salisbury Plain – in the rain.
My poor old nose was seen in Wapping
And my teeth in Cowdenbeath
Other bits of me you’ll find in Dover
So you can say that’s me all over
DAVE’S DINNERS 2005
An invite came from number 10
Dave said won’t you come to dinner
I got a little drunk and told Samantha she looked slimmer
I took off my bi-focals and tripped over Michael Winner
Everything happens to me
SOMNABULISM Don Read © 2012 Don Read
I joined a course on somnambulism
And found it very boring
It was very hard to concentrate
And I got ticked off for snoring
THE FANACKERPANS 22.5.12© Don Read
Mr and Mrs Fanackerpan,
whose first names were Dan and Jan had a plan
To drive all the way to Turkmenistan where they stayed with Dan’s cousins Fran and Stan
Bought back a souvenir shaped like a frying pan
DEFECTIVE DETECTIVE Don Read© 5.6.12
I thought I’d become a detective, a tough Private I, kinda guy
So I changed my name to Sherlock Soams, bought a book on “How To Spy”
I rented a really posh office ,and dreamt of a queue down the hall
I thought I was Humphrey Bogart just waiting for Lauren Bacall
Whilst I popped out for a quick cup of coffee ( shaken not stirred)
A thief stole my personal credentials,
My big bag of toffee and all my detective’s essentials
My Deer stalker hat, cape, pipe and door mat
Plus twelve of my favourite pencils
Out went my hopes of being James Bond
Clearing up crime on earth and beyond
I abandon all thoughts of detection
My stunning ideas met with rejection
But what would I tell my relations?
They all seemed to have great expectations
They took it all with “Told you so” grins
Except for two uncles who jumped out of their skins
They thought they’d be meeting Miss Lauren Bacall
If they joined the queue that stretched right down the hall
How could I tell them I’d been to the council and got a job emptying bins.
SOME ENCHANTED MORNING 2007
As the day was dawning
I could see you yarning
Across a crowded bed
And somehow I knew
To get close to you
I’d have to climb over your great uncle Fred
Announcement of impending parenthood 28.4.12 © Don Read
No more clues
No more guessing
The time has come for some confessing
We can now end the waiting
And announce, WE’RE INFANTICIPATING !
Word used in early editions of the New Musical Express
BILLET DOUX © Don Read 2001
He sent his girl a letter
A little Billet Doux
He said he planned to leave her
She pleaded “Billy don’t”
THE MIRACLE FROM MAYFAIR © Don Read 11.11.1980
In 1978 I somehow got involved with a company that
sold domestic goods(Mayfair Products) to the workforce of factories.
It’s a ninety nine piece indispensible
It’s cheap –and not expensible
No home should be without one so they say
It’s so handy in the garden
It will shout, “I beg your pardon”
As it knocks the children over whilst at play
It’s the wonder of the age
And it’s painted puce and beige
And you win a week in Wigan everytime you sell a set
If you like a country ramble
Or prefer to take a gamble
It can recommend a bookie and will even place a bet
Well. It’s made in Singapore
Where they don’t know what it’s for
You can take it back if it should fall apart
The instructions maybe wrong
They were printed in Hong Kong
So you’ll never find the switch to make it start
Every day I can be seen
In a factory canteen
With the kitchen ladies I cause an hiatus
I arrive at half past ten
And the ladies tell me when
I can demonstrate my amazing apparatus
It can give your car a wax
Work out your income tax
It can even calculate your VAT
It makes a noise like Hitler
Send a memo off to Mitra (company accountants)
And it’s packaged up in multiples of three
It is really labour saving
So handy when you’re shaving
It can wake you up with it’s built in alarm
It comes complete with fuses
An it’s got a million uses
Especially when you strap it to your arm
It will stand a lot wear
It will bounce but never tear
And it self destructs when reaching boiling point
It’s designed by Gordon Bleau
Can be used by him or her
And it guaranteed to burn your Sunday joint
There’s an automatic cut off
Designed to cut your foot off
If you should get entangles in the lead
If the pilot light glows red
Don’t go loose your head
It only means your leg’s begun to bleed
If you play games and you cheat
It will stamp upon you feet
It is programmed to thump those who don’t play fair
With its iridescent dimmer
It really is a winner
And they’re calling it the Miracle From Mayfair -Boom boom!
END
