Bishops Itchington

by Uke's Not Dead

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03:21
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02:25
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credits

released 16 December 2011

All songs written by Steve Grainger. Produced and Recorded by Alex Caithness at the Needle Factory Studios

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Uke's Not Dead coventry, UK

Steve Grainger started playing comedy punk ukulele on a battered Mahalo at New Zealand's legendary comedy club, The Classic, in 2009. He was awful at it, but carried on anyway. He is currently doing any gig he can get in the United Kingdom, has just released a 6-track E.P called Bishops Itchington, has produced a music video about Jeremy Kyle and has just finished writing his own bio on Bandcamp. ... more

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Track Name: Jeremy Kyle
I drank a litre of vodka every night for a week. I fell asleep in the gutter, just so I can hear you speak. I cheated on my wives and girlfriends and trust me there have been a few. I did all this to feed my addiction. I did all this just for you.

Jeremy Kyle, you've got a hold on me. A hold that won't let go. Now I'm finally f***** up enough to feature on your show. If you think I've been dishonest in this love that I've confessed, we can do a lie detector test.

I crave your merciless anger. I crave your sympathetic touch. The subhuman scum under the spotless fuels the hatred that I love so much.

Jeremy Kyle, I would do anything to be there on your stage, while you put me in my place with your trademark violent rage. Your belligerence will cure all of the problems that I have and we'll also entertain some chavs.

Jeremy Kyle, there aint a drug I wouldn't use to get a fix and then call 09011 it's 123456 and I'll father illegitimate children along the way so you'll shout at me then test my DNA.

Jeremy Kyle, I'm going to be with you some day.
Track Name: Great Expectations
You look gorgeous lying next to me. I may not blow your mind tonight, it's been a year or three. There's not been many: 3.5 and counting, so don't expect too much and it won't be as disappointing as I'd feared. Yes, I am quite weird. I hide my low self-confidence underneath my beard. We should get undressed, but taking off my clothes in front of nice girls makes me stressed. Is that cute, or just plain scary? Yes, my upper arms are quite unusually hairy and so is that. I've got condoms underneath my socks, in my bottom drawer, just blow the dust off from the box and check the date. I hope we're not too late. I found them at the freshers' fair in 2008. And since, I've been alone. Do you think we'll finish this before my Mum gets home? Whoaaaahh yeah! Well, that answers my question. Whoooaaaah yeah! Take it as a sign of my affection. Whoooaaaah yeah! You are really sexy. Whooooaah yeah! No, I don't mind calling you a taxi. On your way home, maybe you'll decide to go on Facebook on your phone and change your status. Next time we speak, say you fell in love tonight, despite my poor technique. I hope you do. 'Cause darling, I love you. If you no longer want me, well I guess that's OK too. I'd love it if you stayed, but I will still be happy that I finally got laid. I can't believe I finally got laid.
Track Name: Oi Kid! Don't be a Hoody!
Oi, Kid! Don't be a hoody! Don't be a baddy like them, be a goody! Study! I aint no fuddy-duddy! Listen buddy! Life could get bloody! I'm warning you not to take the wrong path, so clean up your act, give your act a bath. And Make sure your scrubbing its pits and its faces, behind its ears and its hard to reach places. Obey the rules! Go to schools! Don't hang out with thugs and fools and hooligans. It aint no funs: Pimps and hoes and drugs and guns. Listen to meez! GCSE's! A-levels and universities! Cos doctors, inventors, heroes, mentors don't hang about in shopping centres.

Don't be a hoody tonight. It aint cool being a hoody, let's just make that understoody. Stay in school and things will be alright. You don't need skanky bitches, all you need is lots of teachers. Children are our future, but the hoodies want to shoot ya. Don't be a hoody tonight.

Peer pressure is going to get ya! Soon the police will be out to fetch ya! It's advice, it aint no lecture. This stuff may one day affect ya. Listen to these words I've sang. Don't choose to hang with a hoody gang. And don't use drugs, but use a condom. Don't speak like you're from South London, 'cause it doesn't fit you son. You live in Bishops Itchington. So speak correctly, pronounce perfectly, not layzeee sketcheee don't yooouuuzz getsss mee? Lay off the crack and the dope and the speed, the drugs and the drugs and the drugs and the weed. It's 'I' before 'E', accept that from me. And learn what they teaches you in P.S.E

Don't be a hoody, my friend. Don't go down that way, being a hoody is proper gay. Be a genius, not a bell end. The future's in your noggin, not behind the bike sheds snoggin'. Our most precious of resources get straight A's in all their courses. Don't be a hoody, my friend.

And don't for goodness sake do anything you shouldn't do, like sniffing dirty drugs with the Bishops Itchington crew. And don't even think of having sex before you are 16 and only then with a condom and a letter of consent, should you even dream of taking off your tracksuit to expose your little woody and poking it somewhere that might produce another hoody.

Don't be a hoody you f****** t***. You'll never be a prefect with an attitude like that.

Don't be a hoody tonight.
Don't be a hoody, you nob.
Track Name: Your Cat
Keep You Cat away from me, I don't know where its been. Your Cat's the most disgusting thing that I have ever seen. It licks itself in places, where it shouldn't lick itself and I'm convinced the dirty bastard's detrimental to my health. Your Cat got fat and bloated on the Whiskas it was served, but when you took Your Cat to get it spayed, it got what it deserved. Your Cat sits there meowing at my window, dusk 'til dawn. I guess that's just its way of telling me it shit all on my lawn.

Keep Your Cat away from me please, with its weird eyes and its filthy, catty grin. That thing is a breeding ground for fleas, so when I get your cat alone, I'll throw it in the bin.

It's rolling on the floor again, it thinks I'll stroke its belly, but I'm not going to do that 'cause Your Cat is f****** smelly. Your Cat thinks it's adorable when it begins to purr, but there's no chance in hell I'll ever touch that crappy, matted fur. Your Cat has got ideas about sitting on my lap, its almost like it doesn't realise it's cruising for a slap. 'Cause when I see your cat, my eyes get bloodshot and wet, but it's not allergies, it's nausea towards your horrid pet.

Keep that furry t*** locked up indoors, its feline bull**** wears my patents thin. I hate its stupid tail and rubbish paws, so when I get Your Cat alone, I'll throw it in the bin.

Your Cat is so self-satisfied, it won't admit defeat. When I drop it on its head, it still lands, smugly, on its feet. But Your Cat can think again if it thinks its ever going to win, it won't matter which way up it lands when I throw it in the bin.
Track Name: Moral Dilemma
I was a vegetarian, but now I eat roast beef
I found it more delicious than my ethical belief
I find food more tasty if, at some stage, it went ‘moo’
Hypocrisy tastes better than tofu.

I have sold my morals out the door.
For my selfishness and apathy, I’ve given up the war.
It was proving detrimental, how my dinner drove me mental
Now I can’t eat f****** lentils any more.

I cared for the environment, but now I drive a Hummer
When I had a hybrid, all the lads called me a bummer.
I hated corporations, now I eat at Maccy D’s
My values come with burger sauce and cheese.

I’ve sold my soul and compromised my will.
And I’ve marinated hope with fear and tossed it on the grill.
I accept any exception to my obvious corruption
But the f******veggie option makes me ill.

Conduct’s dyer
Bad behaviour
I’m a liar
Pants on fire

I HATE SOYA!

Sometimes I feel guilt for being born
When I see you looking at me, with your eyes so full of scorn.
One day I will make amends for the absence of abstinence in me.
There’s just no f****** sense in eating Quorn.
Track Name: Uke Authority!
F*** authority, stick it to the man. I'm gonna start a riot, just because I can. Let's go out in search of anarchy. So down with the war and down with the law and down with some other things that rhyme with 'law' and my Mum wants me home in time for tea.

But I just want to get high and listen to 'A.F.I' and get bits of metal pinned into my face. So I sing this punk rock song for the day it all went wrong: when my Grandma saw my profile on Myspace.

Cos we wanna get drunk and play punk rock and shout rude words like, 'balls' and, 'f***' and my Mum cooked lasagne specially. And we wanna get laid and we wanna do drugs and we wanna run around and act like thugs. On Monday I've got Maths G.C.S.E

But I just want to have sex and listen to 'NOFX', I can't even knock one out in privacy. So I sing this punk rock tune as I tidy up my room otherwise I won't get ice cream after tea.

Now I want to be a kid and just listen to 'Rancid', but I have to go and get myself a job. So I cover my tatoos, when I go to interviews, 'cause they just make me look like a massive nob.

So, f*** authority, stick it to the man. I'm gonna start a riot, just because I can. Let's go out in search of anarchy. So down with the war and down with the law and down with some other things that rhyme with 'law' and tell my Mum won't be home for tea!