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The Punks That Stayed. I'll telll you a tale about Morecambe, Found on proud England's North Western coast, Where folks who are seeking adventure Stand queuing in Lubins for toast. Then hop on the train to the jetty To breathe in the bracing sea air Or sample ice cream at Bruccianis Which Gloria and Bruno serve there. The Frontierland funfair's been knocked down for shops, A travelling fair on the site Where Bubbles Fun Pools, both indoor and out, Were a haven of Summer delight. Now each year in June a festival's held, Hits our town like a giant tidal wave, As from all o'er the world, North, South, East and West, The punkers arrive for a rave. From Thursday to Sunday this town rocks and rolls As scores of bands brew up a storm, Real afficianados pay seventy quid For Market Hall, Dome and Platform. The bands have weird titles, Cocksparrer, The Damned, Star Strangled Bastards, The Pits, The Hard One, Demob, Vibrators, King Prawn, Swellbellys, Expelled, Itchy Tits. The fans dress in strange gear, bondage trousers and pins, Chains and tee shirts that shock and amuse, The atmosphere's friendly no trouble is caused, Just down here for music and booze. So for four crazy days the punks have a ball, Lager, cider by the gallon swilled down, And dear Eric Morecambe takes part in the show, Wears a bright coloured crest on his crown. Now this year, on Monday, as the Council moved in To clear up after the bash, They found that one band had stayed overnight, Sitting there among beer cans and trash. Chief binman said "By gum! I thought you'd all gone. Int'it time that you packed up as well? Them rolls you are eatin' look tasty and fresh But yer fillin's a very rum smell!" The boss of the group, Dog Shit Sandwich from Brum, Said "We're all staying put, have no fear, There's enough lovely pooch plop on your Promenade To feed the whole band for a year! Next year when The Midland re-opens its doors, Is once more a top class hotel, We'll be here with our punk mates and lay on free nosh, Provide clothes pegs to ward off the smell! Like at beer festivals, the choice will be vast, The wider the range, more the merrier, My favourite blend, of course, close to home, Brew X!, Pork Scratchings, Bull Terrier!" Alan Swift |
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