Monthly Archives: June 2012

Diary of a New Yorker


The girl upstairs from me
Moved in on a Friday at a quarter to 3
The girl upstairs from me
Introduced herself as Marie
The girl upstairs from me
Wears Levi jeans and T-shirts, stripy
The girl upstairs from me
has a cat called Rosey
The girl upstairs from me
works in a Manhattan library
The girl upstairs from me
One day, she asked me round for coffee
The girl upstairs from me
Her uncle knew Neil Diamond personally
childhood friends in Brooklyn, see
The girl upstairs from me
has the occasional wild party
where guests have to come as people from the past
Me and my pal John were Laurel and Hardy
The hostess was Marilyn Monroe – what a blast!
The girl upstairs from me
plays piano so sweetly
One day before it got dark
we went roller bladin’ in Central Park
For her 30th birthday, I took her to Macy’s
I bought her a trumpet and a book on Spencer Tracy
The girl upstairs from me
occupies my thoughts daily
The fun things we’ve done together
have taken up 50 pages of my diary
The girl upstairs from me…
is absolutely lovely
One day I’m gonna ask her to marry me
If she says yes, then she’ll no longer be
The girl upstairs from me
We’ll move out of this apartment building
and buy a place in the country
I’ll have finished my law degree
will support her and a family…and I’ll be oh so happy

The Rainbow Race


The Rainbow Race paradin’ the Rainbow flag
Mustachioed leather clad guys to ones in drag
From the extremes of the “Lipstick dykes”
to the tattooed lesbians  on motorbikes
takin’ their place in the Rainbow Race
fightin’ injustice in every place
some have died for the cause
but we won’t go away. You can’t ignore us
From San Francisco to Brighton and Sydney
We are the Rainbow Race and we want equality

Homophobes make it their business what we get up to in bed
and governments everywhere should grant us the right to wed
Paradin’ the Rainbow flag, the Rainbow Race
fightin’ discrimination in the workplace
From “Torch Song Trilogy”
to religious bigotry
What does the future hold? Will we still live in fear…
of violent attacks or is acceptance near?

Mr. Policeman why is it that you are always on my case?
Is it just because I’m a member of the Rainbow Race?
Hail, the victories of Harvey Milk
and I for one, am of that ilk
I am a bisexual man, take my place
a fully paid up member of the Rainbow Race.

The Cleaning Lady


Hers is a rather arduous and poorly paid chore
She cleans the factory, the library, the department store
The cleaning lady is dependable
Her name could be Joan, Phyllis or Mabel
She’s been scrubbin’, polishin’ and moppin for years now
Hers is an unrecognised labour ‘though
She’ll still be makin’ buildings sparklin’ clean when she’s old
If they gave medals to unsung heroines – hers would be gold!
Mister, next time you step over her bucket at the bank
To start a day’s toil, remember you owe her a debt of thanks
For where would this world be
without its cleaning ladies…

Maggie May


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If not for you…I wouldn’t be feelin’ blue
Nor standin’ in this dole queue….if not for you
Maggie Thatcher
Free milk snatcher

Who could ever forget the evil poll tax
and all those public spending cutbacks
Then there’s The Mental Health Act of ’83
I can only describe it as sheer lunacy!

Maggie, oh Maggie, all those hospitals you closed down
and your cabinet full of muppets and clowns!
You’d have lost the ’83  election
but The Falklands War saved your bacon!
You smashed the unions and brought in privatisation
Maggie, oh Maggie, you’ve had your day
you’ll join your pals Pinochet
and Murdoch in hell one day!

The Glory of Rembrandt


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He’d stare at  Rembrandt masterpieces
for hours and hours in galleries
He’d watch television in his bedroom and read newspapers in libraries
But the only thing that made sense to him were the Rembrandts in the galleries
None of his numerous women
could keep pace with his Rembrandt obsession
So the single game, he did play
But he preferred it that way.

He wished he could paint like those old Dutch masters
Rembrandt, Van Ruisdael, Albert Cuyp, Vermeer
of them he was so very fond
One day he travelled to Holland
He was in his element
starin’ at all those Rembrandts
and all the others in the gallery
in the land of tulips and windmills he felt so free
and when he returned to England
He got a job as curator of a top museum
and in this gallery in England
so many portraits of Rembrandt, you’ve just got to see ’em
He had Rembrandts images etched onto his soul
And though the hours were long, he enjoyed the job as a whole
He never grew tired looking at or talking about his favourite artist
He could even reel off names of his classic works in bars, when he was pissed!

For he lived and he breathed fine art
and for him, Rembrandt was the best place to start
One day after work, he went out and bought a Euro Lottery ticket
The  Jackpot was 140 million, he didn’t expect to win it
But the dream became reality
and he found himself at “Christies”
He walked off with an original Rembrandt painting…30 million
A smile appeared on his face. He thought he had a bargain
He put the painting in the lounge of his new house near “TATE Britain”
He slept downstairs, so he could wake up to it again and again.

Some men love their wives, some men love a Cadillac
Some men love a football team, he loved his Rembrandt
He’d show it off to his friends
His happiness knew no end
For he’d got what he’d always wanted
and how many of us can say that…

If Only The Whole World Were a Jazz Club


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If only the whole world were like “Ronnie Scott’s”
No muggers, no burglars, no murderous plots
No hollerin’, no abuse, no violent crime
Just people havin’ a whale of a time
If only the world were like a jazz bar in Chicago
No one robbin’ banks and drivin’ off with the “Dough”
Cause if you ain’t already realized
that jazz and jazz clubs are civilized
and classless as well
then you need to get real

If only the whole world were a Duke Ellington tune
would we have felt the need to send a man to the moon
Cause jazz is progress, jazz is swell
The whole thing is so pleasant as well

And if you were listenin’ to Sacha Distel’s jazz guitar…
on the stereo, you wouldn’t be tempted to go too fast in your car
causin’ a fatal accident
You see, jazz is important
It seems to calm people down
It should be heard right across town

Of Michel Le Grand’s
Jazz piano, I’m fond
You can whisk me “Miles Away”
with Mr. Davis or Count Basie
If only the whole world were a jazz club in New York
Get people to communicate – get people to talk
We could bring whole communities together
and we wouldn’t need relationship counsellors
cause this social setting
is the very best we’re getting.

Like the broccoli on my plate
I discovered jazz quite late
and like broccoli
Jazz is so healthy
I’m sure we could solve a lot of the world’s problems
If we could bring world leaders to the table in a jazz forum
If only the whole world were a jazz venue
all the sortin’ out we could do
Long Live Jazz! And Bossa Nova, too!..

Angry, From Basingstoke


Well. I’ll be damned
BBC phone lines jammed
loads and loads of complaints
One man showed no restraint
“I can’t believe the crudeness and vulgarity…
of that joke I just heard on BBC3!”
“And before the 9 o’clock watershed as well!”
“That comedian should be banished to hell!”
“It’s the kind of thing you can get away with in France!..
Or Spain or Holland…but he’s leading us a merry dance”
“In the good conservative town of Basingstoke
“we don’t appreciate that sort of smutty joke!”
“I hate this abuse of the license fee”
“And there will be a strongly worded letter from me”
“To the Head of Light Entertainment at the BBC”
“And one to The Daily Mail”
“right away, without fail”
“Angry, From Basingstoke!”
Then he slammed the phone down.