Good Morning, Ma’am, I’ve come to read your gas meter…
The wonderful dexterity of Hannu Mikkola
Makes me want to shake hands with the whole of Finland
But the horrible sincerity of Miriam Stoppard
Makes me want to go out and commit mass murder
I rang Jane Scott for a genuine friend
She was otherwise engaged so I looked round the bend
I saw the wheels of nihilism rolling my way
And now I live life in the bus lane
Yeah I live life in the bus lane
The halcyonic dynamo that lit up my childhood
Made me feel secure on the roads in winter
But the nauseating bashfulness of early Diana
Makes me want to set fire to commemorative tea towels
I walked across the road with a peach in my hand
A hammer hit my head and I couldn’t understand
Behind me stood a maniac laughing at me saying:
“I like to watch the adverts
Yeah, I saw it in the adverts”
You fold your grandma’s neck
And smother her in custard
As a contribution to your folio
And the very next morning
You take her into college and the tutor with the beard and the polio
Says “Well yeah it’s got potential and it could well be essential
But it should be more dramatic if you know what I mean”
Have you tuned into Radio Dada
Every Friday evening at six in the morning
Scan the airwaves for Radio Dada
It goes something like this