Hark, the Sydney Morning Herald Sings!
Hark, the Sydney Morning Herald sings
Of Many Things You Won’t Believe!
What Gifts Were Brought By These Three Kings
Price of Bethl’em Properties
Domain: Stables, There’s A Waitlist!
Clem Ford: Is God Mary’s Rapist?
New Super Food Called Frankincense!
Wow, These Headlines Make No Sense!
Praise To Him With Hosts on High
The Great Clickbaiter In The Sky
A Very Paul McCartney Christmas
(tune: Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time)
My career’s done
My talent’s gone
Forty years since
Good “Macca” songs
Simply wishing now that I would die
Simply wishing now that I would die
Mull of Kintyre
What’s that shit?
That’s far from
The worst of it
Simply wishing now that I would die
Simply wishing now that I would die
I can’t think of lyrics for this bridge
Ding dong, ding dong
ding dong, ding ooo
Ooo ooo toot toot toot toot toot toot
Can’t deny
It’s not wrong
Shoulda been shot
Instead of John
Simply wishing now that I would die
Simply wishing now that I would die
Baby, It’s Cold Inside
SHE: I really can’t stay
HE: But baby it’s cold outside
SHE: OK, this now counts as rape
HE: But baby it’s — whut?
SHE: Joking! This evening has been
HE: Well, heh, great of you to drop in
SHE: So very “nice”, could get nicer
HE: But maybe you better be going
SHE: It’s freezing out, what’s yer hurry?
HE: It’s only a bit of a flurry
SHE: Let’s play a few of these “records” more
HE: I’ll get an Uber, you can wait near the door
SHE: Really, you’re looking so worried
HE: Please, don’t sprawl out on my Afghan dhurrie
SHE: Is it because you’re my boss at Slater and Gordon?
HE: Christ I wish I wasn’t divorced …
SHE: I ought to say “no, no, no, sir”
HE: Well, great, that’s clear, time to go, the-
SHE: “Ought’! Ought!” The subjunctive’s therein implied!
HE; Uber is here, oh Christ, Christ, Christ
HE: Look — coat, arm, sleeve — you’ve got to go home
SHE: Come on this was a done deal hours ago. It’s frikkin’ cold outside
HE: But can’t you see?
SHE: For a middle-aged man, you’re a bit of a tease
HE: Think of all the hot takes tomorrow!
SHE: Oh God, yes, you’re right, the horror!
HE: On whether consent was denied
SHE: Guardian, Fairfax and Huffpo, Mia along for the ride
S/HE: Maybe I/you better just go
Ah, but it’s colllldddddddd,
Outtttttttt
Sidddddeeeeeeee!
CRESCENDO, END.
SPOKEN: SHE: Just a kiss beneath the mistletoe?
HE: You’ll have to sign this release.
Jeepers, Rundle, what did Paul McCartney ever do to you to deserve such a serve?
With the subjunctive therein implied, you ought to be a jobbing lyricist.
The nastiness against McCartney fits with Lennon’s ‘How do you sleep?’.
C’mon grundle, everyone knows that Paul died in the 60s.
Your “Cold Outside” should be read alongside mad Mark brainSteyn’s latest jeremiad on the song.
Can’t fault the P Mac ditty , is it down-loadable ?
well it looks like Crikey has fallen to the ol’ devil – the CIA now controls Crikey – isn’t it obvious