Lambchop

Tickets are now on sale. WooHoo!

I'm happy, I'm happy And I'll punch the man who says I'm not!

To the tune of 'Hosana to the King of Kings' Give me Love, give me Can, give me Meatloaf Give me Rush, give me Marquee Moon Michael Ball or The Fall, I could listen to them all In the twilight of the afternoon Irk the purists, Irk the purists, Irk the purists, it's a right good laugh Irk the purists, Irk the purists, Irk the purists at the back Hall & Oates, Random Hold(?), Miles Davis Patti Smith, Simply Red, Sly Stone Be they false or 4 real, I don't care and nor does Neil Just so long as we can hear their song Irk the purists, Irk the purists It could well be an Olympic sport Irk the purists, Irk the purists If you haven't then you ought Husker Du Du Du, Captain Beefheart, ELO Chris de Burgh, Sun Ra, Del Amitri, John Coltrane Irk the purists, Irk the purists Come on now boy, you know it feels so right Irk the purists, Irk the purists Irk the purists tonight From Half Man Half Biscuits Irk The Purists, Trouble Over Bridgewater, April 2000. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November - That's TONIGHT folks!!!

They come from underneath the stairs Into my room but no-one cares Theyre on the bus and on the train Theyre knocking on my window pane Oh Mother, telephone the nurse Cant you see its getting worse? I close my eyes and still it seems Everybody in my dreams Gubba Lookalikes Gubba Lookalikes I wake up screaming in the hall I didnt mean to wake at all I run and lock the bathroom door Turn on the taps and out they pour Through all the villages and towns A thousand sandy coloured clowns I try n escape down private drives And then I reach the Readers Wives Gubba Lookalikes Gubba Lookalikes Gubba Lookalikes Gubba Lookalikes From Half Man Half Biscuits Gubba Lookalikes, Trouble Over Bridgewater, April 2000. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

I feel like a beggar accepting alms Then being pelted with figs I study my steadily declining chart placings They greet me with freezing cold inhospitality Hey, where did that bloke go who said I was vital? I possess the mild air of a retail tobacconist Thats because Im a retail tobacconist But the mayflies on a Berkshire trout river Would probably tell you a different story About ham-fisted diadems and momentary daydreams Of mythical dividends and illusory boardroom seats In the room festooned with fat beef certificates From county shows Duff leg Bryn had drank too much again Most of Wyn was steering clear of him Ive got no time for this 12th consecutive Rosebowl Cos on Sunday next at ten to four Ive got an invitation for A trip around Katherine Hamnetts warehouse Followed by dinner with David Emanuelle Who I cant wait to tell about my dream In which the almost illegal Elton Welsbys Dressed as a French maid on a moonless byway Licking his lips as he creeps ever closer Fast falls the Eventide Fast falls the Eventide The public appearance of bitter ex-soap stars Who thought that they could go on and do other things besides The centre courts amusement at the ball-boys mishap That bobbing up and down thing that they do at the Proms Opinionated weather forecasters telling me its going to be a miserable day Miserable to who? I quite like a bit of drizzle, so stick to the facts Channel 4 presents Blow Job Introduced by Adrian and Sophie Horn Who is, of course, one bloke with a pierced dick Whos just had the nod from Planet 24 Hear him say surreal, bizarre, sad, git, yes indeedy, Completely and utterly, footy, anorak and respect Before whipping the audience up into doing the Time Warp Watch him take us live to The Queens Arse in Firkin Where Joseph Bloggs and his Amazing Technicolour Shellsuit Are about to abort their Steely Dan routine And instead embark upon fifteen minutes of mantra filled oompah Fifteen minutes of mantra filled oompah Fifteen minutes of mantra filled oompah Adrian stroke Sophie wants us, the viewers, to ring in And say how we think the punters will react These are a few of my favourite things Im incredibly bored with the word Millennium Im with the Jehovas Witnesses Millions now earmarked will later be wasted Her Majesty, marvellous, Mother the Musical The fireworks lighting up the Houses of Parliament Death in Trafalgar Square, death in the armchair Clichd old spinsters whove never been loved Every day is Australia Day Sons & Daughters and Home & Away And then the news comes on and the sound goes down Because she cant be bothered with all them politicians Theyre all just a bunch of flaming drongos She died with her telly on, 87 and confused And theres not enough hospital beds cos all the moneys been used On the End of the Century Party preparations And they reckon the last thing she saw in her life was Sting singing on the roof of the Barbican Sting singing on the roof of the Barbican T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee T for Toxteth, T for Tennessee T for Thatcher, that girl has made a wreck out of me [Yodel] O-ld lay-ay-dee labelled me an idle O-ld lay-ay-dee labelled me an idle O-ld lay-ay-dee labelled me an idle Layabou-ou-ou-out Layabou-ou-ou-out Layabou-ou-ou-out From Half Man Half Biscuit's A Country Practice, Four Lads Who Shook The Wirral, June 1998. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

We're hardly the fruit form a well tended banana tree We're hardly the Bayeux in rock's rich tapestry We were like two rubber ducks that passed each other in the bath I can sound like Wally out of Crossroads She threw an apple in my eye, cor blimey Alex Haley was adopted That's what's called a disappointment When England won the World Cup back in 1966 Wembley must have been a sea of smiles I think Kenneth Wolstenholme summed up the moment really well When he said 'Just look at Nobby Stiles' She threw an apple in my eye, cor blimey Alex Haley was adopted That's what's called a disappointment Well, they're still cremating Hattie Jacques, I'm not surprised Come on now, let's face it, she was fat It usually takes forever trying to burn the grossly oversized Who would ever want to look like that? She had a face that could launch a thousand dredgers I could never get her on my portable TV She threw an apple in my eye, cor blimey Alex Haley was adopted That's what's called a disappointment From Half Man Half Biscuit's Carry On Cremating, ACD, 1988. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

I dream of occasional fanzine mentions I've been to one too many David Lynch conventions I play postal chess with a man who doesn't know me I've got a better frown than Tony Iommi And I've got a 4AD3DCD A 4AD3DCD A 4AD3DCD And I'm on a Foundation Course Formed a band and had loads of good songs like Bloodfroth Tuesday, Pancake Candyshoes Got a good guitarist but he's got a sad barnet Kiss Cream Carnival Lime Sky Spooky Pills It's me 4AD3DCD Me 4AD3DCD Me 4AD3DCD And I'm on a Foundation Course Playing eerie madrigals On the campus egg-slicer I'm a pop sensation I'm an all round icon Thank God Cardigan Laugh Crash Sunday School Kiss Cream Carnival Lime Sky Spooky Pills The flotsam, the jetsam The cherabim and seraphim On my Foundation Course You're the Man Ray! It's me 4AD3DCD Me 4AD3DCD David Dundas got no rock cakes It don't worry me none, bro' From Half Man Half Biscuit's 4AD3DCD, This Leaden Pall, October 1993. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

Sorry, I'm not familiar with Robert Lloyd. As for the copy/paste, it is difficult to find any lyrics so I'm afraid that I do it the old fashioned way - listen to the tune and type out the words. (You know - write the theme tune, sing the theme tune etc. - I'll get me coat!) I'm most grateful to Gez for the References on hmhb.co.uk though as there are some which are fairly obscure and whose meaning I wouldn't have had a scooby about. Glad that you're enjoying them, lowball!

One way system, smooth and commendable Go by bus, they're highly dependable The swings in the park for the kids have won awards The clean streets acknowledged in the Lords But what's a park if you can't see a linnet A timetable if your journey's infinite My bag's packed and I'm leaving in a minute For what is Chatteris without you in it? Car crime's low, the gun crime's lower The Town Hall Band's CD, it's a grower You never hear of folk getting knapped on the bonce Although there was a drive-by shouting once But there's a brass band everywhere And I don't drive so I don't care As a Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square What is Chatteris if you're not there? Like a game bird reserve short on pheasants Weaver's cottages devoid of tenants A market town that lacks quintessence That is Chatteris without your presence What is Chatteris if you're not there? What is Chatteris if you're not there? What is Chatteris if you're not there? What is Chatteris if you're not there? I may as well be in Ely or St Ives From Half Man Half Biscuit's For What Is Chatteris..., Achtung Bono, August 2005. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

It's the year 2163 Chester Barnes has risen from the dead And he's coming round to creosote the fence And I for one feel spartan and monastic As the drama unfolds on the lawn There's a wager between the staff and me That Barnsey can't complete the job before I take my final Stannah up the stairs, to the stars Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Sssshhhh! Granddaughter doesn't want to know Ever since she got into the charts Ask her what perfume she wears Self Righteous by Anita Roddick The doctor overrates me in my room And with the regularity of doom A geezer with a doubleneck guitar Comes and tells me Tales from Topographic Oceans Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Papal entourage, give us a song Sssshhhh! From Half Man Half Biscuit's This Leaden Pall, This Leaden Pall, October 1993. hmhb.co.uk Half Man Half Biscuit LIVE at The Lemon Tree - Wednesday 23rd November

On the subject of wish-lists, I see that Julian Cope's touring next February. Any chance of getting him up here? Saw him at the Liquid Room a couple of years ago - a thoroughly magical experince. Pretty please. With sugar on top.

The A is for my authority which many players seem to question, thinking theyre somehow going to make me change my mind. B is for babies, which a lot of managers cry like after a decision has not gone their way. C is for the continual criticism I receive from the touchline GET BACK IN YOUR TECHNICAL AREA! D is for the dunderheads who seem to think we have a conspiracy against their particular team. E is for the eerie silence, which echoes around the ground when Ive booked a home teams player and its obvious to everyone that he deserved it. F is for the farce into which most games would descend if we werent there. The G is for the gnarled face of someone whos on 90,000 a week and reckons he should have had a throw-in. H is for handball. Which has to be intentional, and very rarely is. If only people would study the rules more. I is for innocence. Pleaded by many a doe-eyed defender after theyve just scythed down that tricky winger. J is for Ju-Jitsu. Which I quite intend to display given a dark alley and some of the narky blurts Ive encountered. The K is for the kissing of the badge. How ridiculous that looks 6 months later when theyre at another club. L is for lip reading. At which you dont have to be an expert to see how odious some people are. M is for the mistakes we sometimes make. Surely a bit of controversy is part of the games appeal. The N is for the numbskull who during the Boxing day game asks me what else I got for Xmas besides my whistle an afternoon with your wife, mate! O is for offside. Which many forwards tell me they simply could not have been. P is for the penalty shoot out. Great drama and no pressure on me. Q is the quiet word which I sometimes need to have with some of the more fiery participants. I usually choose the word pleat. R is for running backwards. A difficult skill which the pundits never seem to appreciate. The S is the suggestion that I should show a card to an opponent, by a player who has been awarded a free kick. He himself is more in danger of getting one for that. T is for the 21 man brawl, which is basically an embarrassing scene of pushing and shoving. U is for the umpire which I sometimes wish Id been instead. You never hear a cricket crowd shouting whos the b@stard in the hat V is vitriol, vilification, vendetta and volley of verbal abuse. W is for Walter Pigeon. Whos Mr. Griffiths in How Green was my Valley I might have begun to sound like during this song. Where was the light I thought to see in your eye?. He says that to a young Hugh played by Roddie McDowell The X! The X represents the sarcastic kiss planted on my forehead by a swarthy Portuguese defender who Ive just dismissed. Y is for Yate. The kind of town refs come from. And the Z. Well the Z could be for Zidane, Zico, Zola, Zubizaretta, Zoff, even Zondervan but is in fact for the zest with which we approach our work. Without this zest for the game we wouldnt become refs, and without refs well ZERO. See also Zatopek, Zeus, and Zeal Monachorum. I had a caravan there. Static, naturally. From Half Man Half Biscuit's The Referee's Alphabet, Cammell Laird Social Club, September 2002. hmhb.co.uk