Going under Brown.

Too the tune of Going Underground

You're going under Brown

Some people might say our party's in a rut
We're not happy with what we've got
People say we should strive for more
But your so grumpy you can't see the point anymore
A local election and the workers renage
I'm so worry you're half blind
You want more money, and the public mind
A 10p tax for PFI crimes.

And the public get what no one wants
But no one what this party's got
Going under Brown (Going under Brown)
Well the Red flag don't play,
Going under Brown, under Brown.
Well let the toffs all shout for tomorrow

Some voters get some pleasure out of hate
And the BNP they're starting to rate.
People need some ethnic tension to chillax
I'm to busy with my electoral slack.

What you see, you stupid get
You've made your bed, you'd better cry in it
They don't choose leaders and you don't trust
As your sighs wash us down, and the party combusts

Be merciful I'm tone deaf.

If you want to murder Paul Weller, use a gun. It's kinder.

That bad? Just needed to confirm I suck at song writing.

You've wrote worse and you mentioned the word 'chillax' as well, fair play.

Is this how it feels to be hosited by ones own petards?

Its actually not too bad but the ending could be better.

Quote: Nigel Kelly @ May 30 2008, 10:01 PM BST

You've wrote worse and you mentioned the word 'chillax' as well, fair play.

View original

I really hate to do this Nigel, (I really do), but when you refer to writing, wrote, or suchlike in the same sentence, accusing another of having once been 'worse', you can't then deliver a sentence like you have above.

You've written worse ...

It's what I did but I've got less rhythm than a White CHristian rap star.

Advice on rescuing is welcome.

Thanks

Quote: sootyj @ May 30 2008, 8:47 PM BST

Too the tune of Going Underground

You're going under Brown

Some people might say our party's in a rut
We're not happy with what we've got
People say we should strive for more
But your so grumpy you can't see the point anymore
A local election and the workers renage
I'm so worry you're half blind
You want more money, and the public mind
A 10p tax for PFI crimes.

And the public get what no one wants
But no one what this party's got
Going under Brown (Going under Brown)
Well the Red flag don't play,
Going under Brown, under Brown.
Well let the toffs all shout for tomorrow

Some voters get some pleasure out of hate
And the BNP they're starting to rate.
People need some ethnic tension to chillax
I'm to busy with my electoral slack.

What you see, you stupid get
You've made your bed, you'd better cry in it
They don't choose leaders and you don't trust
As your sighs wash us down, and the party combusts

Be merciful I'm tone deaf.

View original

Hmmm. I agree with Nigel - we've seen better from you. And Griff's spot on about the mismatching syllables.

In the first set of bars, 'got' is a poor choice for rhyming with 'rut'.
The next two lines end identically with 'more'.
(Even though both may be in the original).

In the second line of the second stanza the complete word 'wants' is missing - but that's just a typo and we get what should be inserted there. (It happens to us all).

'Slack' is just slightly out when chosen to partner 'chillax'. It almost demands a word-ending similar sounding to 'tax'.

And in the final set of bars is 'get' supposed to rhyme with anything? As you haven't chosen 'git' I'm assuming it has.

I've just reached behind me for a book from that master of lyrics, the now out of print, and very rare: Sammy Cahn's Songwriter's Rhyming Dictionary, (Three coins in a fountain, High hopes - y'know that ant and his rubber tree plant etc.,) with a view to throwing in some suggestions but it's gone midnight and I've a busy day tomorrow.

Incidentally, I've completed a rhyming sketch in which two characters talk in rhyme throughout - (Ronnie Barker pastiche). The female character is ultimately led to believe the next rhyme has no option but to end in "I'll whip out me chopper" as the male character had previously used 'stopper'- she runs screaming as the other character completes: "So I'll just whip out me grasshopper", and we close in on him opening a matchbox containing his pet grasshopper. But it's so embarrassing I've binned it. Rhyming skits are hard work unless you're a natural poet, which I for one am not. You've chosen a tough task.

Thanks my writing songs is akin to a frigid nun visiting a fetish brothel.

It looks exiting, but scary, and alienating at the same time. May have another go, but I'm rather more comfortable with sledgehammer satire, and needlessly dark sitcom.

I kinda hope some one at Treason likes it, and gives me a cocredit.

Going underground

Some people might say the parties is in a rut,
We're not happy with what we've got
People might say that we should strive for more,
But you're so grumpy you can't see the point.
Somethings happening here today
A local election where the workers renage,
Im so scared and youre so blind
You want more money - of course the dvoters mind
To give 10 p tax for atomic pfi crimes

And the public gets what the public wants
But no one thinks this parties hot.
Your going underBrown, (going underBrown)
Well the Red Flags play and feet start to pound
Going underBrown, (going underBrown)
Well let the toffs all sing and the gits all shout for tomorrow

Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
The poor are giving the BNP reason to celebrate
People might need some tension to chillax
You're too busy dodging between the flak

What you see is what you get
Youve made your bed, you better lie in it
Don't choose your leaders and loose your trust
As Presco's pies wash you down and promises rust
Youll see kidney machines replaced by quangos and guns

And the public wants what the Tories give
But you don't get what the society wants
Im going underBrown, (going underBrown)
Well the Red Flags plays and feet start to pound
Going underBrown, (going underBrown)
[so] let the Toffs all sing and the Toffs all shout for tomorrow

We talk and talk until my head explodes
I turn on the news and my body froze
The braying sheep on my tv screen
Make this boy shout, make this boy scream!

We're underBrown, Im going underBrwon!