Royal Peculier
Sister Candicorn
Lyrics: Ian Roure / Music: The Larch
Oh sister, take all the money - make me a big cheese on a roll.
Oh sister, take all the money - the hard road has it's toll.
Oh sister, what are you doing, why are you asking me for more?
Oh sister, what are you doing, you never told me before....
The dwarf star lot, the lame act rot - tried and detested form.
The double dip, yes, it's dodgy Jack and Sister Candicorn.
Oh sister, what are you saying - chewing a dull-edge wormwood tongue,
Oh sister, what are you saying - where is the slow air coming from?
Oh sister, where are you going - where is the Candicorn abode?
Oh sister, where are you going - along rogue valley road?
Na na na.
Penny-O
Lyrics: Ian Roure / Music: The Larch
Penny was a self-made man and a Brut aftershave girl,
Princess in a glitter land, crinkle cut in the straight world.
Oh Penny-O
Spice wig and fruit peel in the subway sun,
Powders her nose and loosens the tongue.
Bede man crack up, oh Penny back up,
Coca corolla burn up begun.
Barebottom bog bean bought the liquid lunch,
Hangover helper in the software crunch.
Bede man crack up, oh Penny back up,
Coca corolla burn up begun.
The Persuaders (Ian Roure)
Tell me you're on my side - the big guy, the financial success.
Tell me very strongly you won't decrease the net amount of my checks,
But say there's hope for the needy, so I can still be as greedy,
But somehow needn't feel guilty.
Tell me we're the "good guys" - we respect life, we're gentle and kind,
Tell me we're the toughest and the strongest - we can kick some behind.
If you can make it ring true, you know I'll gladly support you.
Oh-oh because I want to...
Fall for the Persuaders
Tell while you're driving that you'll promise to fill up the tank.
Tell me I can relax - this cul-de-sac is a million miles in length,
If you can keep it from view, you know I'll gladly support you.
Oh-oh because I want to...
Fall for the Persuaders.
Old Year's Night
Lyrics: Ian Roure /Music: The Larch
Don't look back - the Regal Empress went down with truth decay.
Goodbye to the blessed thistle, happy wide berth day.
A year ago the hardest rain struck down
To douse the failing flame.
Alone in this still life boat
I try to avoid pleasant ghosts,
There aren't any in sight,
Here on this new old year's night.
Comfy chair floats down the Dongas - this current is a curse.
Push it off - the slap back swimmers say it could be worse,
but....
Free Kick (Ian Roure)
Idiot and Sammy on the jib, dead jammy,
Slipped past the Rozers, leading the division, in a bit of after match magic.
The enemy scattered as the windscreen shattered,
The fuse is lit & a geezer gets hit, FREE KICK and the lads are ecstatic!
All your laws are beneath us now,
The flare went up and we burned them down.
Pumped on duty free and the sound of breaking glass.
We are the lads marching along.
There's no peace for the wicked,
We're marching on...
Long live the world war,
Giving "Jerry" what for, D-Day, dog fights,
Maggie in the Falklands - notch up another great victory.
Our policy is never mind the E.E.C.,
Stretch and cut reality, spit at the referee,
Lick at the bones of past glory.
British Bull Dog is off the lead,
Lifts his leg anywhere he please,
Singing loudly from frothing lips and bloody teeth.
We are the lads marching along.
There's no peace for the wicked,
We're marching on...
Keep your jacuzis you wage slaves,
No carrot or stick can persuade.
Nothing you've got can compensate
like the strike and triumphant getaway...
We are the lads marching along.
The war may be dead and gone but
We're marching on...
Bombshell Star
Lyrics: Ian Roure /Music: The Larch
Sugar Glider buzzes mirror ball,
Where the extra old cheese lurks.
Sugar Glider hears the mirror call,
Cheesy magic gets to work.
Sugar Glider wafted heavenward,
On the gassy solar wind,
Fashion-fission feel the photo shock,
Here's your smoking, stellar twin...
(Chorus) It's a Bombshell Star in a super-heated fog,
Burn your fingers on the vapour tail.
Shutter snap, there's a nova in the jar,
When you wish upon a Bombshell Star.
Photo-flashers train their shaky sights,
As the flat photosphere turns.
X-ray shrapnel brings a hard return,
Direct hit with fame to burn.