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ELVIS McGONAGALL
“Viva Loch Lomond! The Life and Times of Elvis
McGonagall”
On the 3rd of March 1960, Elvis Presley spent two
hours at Prestwick Airport, Scotland en route home from national
service in Germany. Big Agnes McGonagall, a starstruck baggage
handler, was left with the memory of a lifetime. Nine months
later, on 22nd December, 1960, Elvis McGonagall was born on
Carousel B in the North Terminal. Coincidence? Not according to
Big Aggie. Stuffing wee Elvis into a duffle bag, she set off in
hot pursuit of Mr Presley and her American Dream. The rest is
histrionics.
Elvis McGonagall spent his early years in
Poverty, Tennessee where his mother filed several unsuccessful
paternity suits and found work punching cows at the local rodeo.
It was a tough upbringing for young McGonagall in the cotton
fields of the deep south but it left him with a lifelong passion
for Yiddish skiffle music, revolutionary socialism and 18th
century French literature.
Following extradition by the FBI the family
returned to Scotland where it is rumoured that Elvis flirted
briefly with the world of gainful employment before retiring to
The Graceland Caravan Park, somewhere near Dundee, where he
still lives. Boredom, desperation and the fear of putting on a
bright orange apron and working in B&Q have now driven this
bitter and twisted entertainer into the twilight world of
stand-up poetry. |
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An extended metaphor for a
self-perpetuating oligarchy. Or a pointless rant. Whichever you
prefer. A Game Of Two Halves
Let's make poverty history
Let's be a force for good
Let's re-distribute all the wealth
Let's be like Robin Hood
Let's have no more paupers
Let's eradicate the rich
Let's empty out the bank account
Of Roman Abramovich
Let's syphon off his profits
Let's overthrow the petrol tsar
Let's give all his roubles back
To the workers of the USSR
Let's ask Jose Mourinho
"What's the Portuguese for poor?"
Let's cut his Amex card in two
Let him manage Stenhousemuir
Let's shove Sky TV where The Sun don't shine
Let Rupert Murdoch's empire fall
Let's reclaim the people's game
Let's take back our ball
Let's drop Ashley Cole down a deep dark hole
'Til he agrees that greed is wrong
Then we'll pay him 60 grand a week -
in Vietnamese dong
Let's kidnap Malcolm Glazer
Singing "Soccer's going gnome!"
Let's bastardise his merchandise
Let's sell The Bobby Charlton Comb
Let's raid Wayne Rooney's piggy bank
Let's put him in a fucking rage
Let's make him work with Gordon Fucking Ramsay
For the minimum fucking wage
Let's stop spending money on swede FA
Let Sven Goran Eriksson disappear
Let's fold him up in a flatpack
Let's stack him on a shelf in Ikea
Let's find a check-out job at Tesco's
For Rio Ferdinand
Let's stick his mercenary contract
Up his Rio Grande
Let's ransack Beckingham Palace
Let's give their bling to charity
Let's burn the mock-tudor mansions
Of football's aristocracy
Let's drive all their Ferraris
Over Beachy Head
Let's de-rail their gravy train
Let them take the bus instead
Let's ignore their tabloid sex romps
And champagne charlie songs
Let's dismiss their Double-D-list wives
In permatans and Prada thongs
Let the VIPs drink Bovril
Let their seats be cold and hard
Let's rip up their red carpet
Let's show them the red card
Let's wind up Football plc
Let's give the board P45's
Let's stop fat corporate bastards
Eating all the pies
Let's kick-off the revolution
Let have-nots have the final score
Let's hear "Manchester United nil
Partick Thistle 4"
Let's invest Das Kapital
Let's end left-wing fatigue
Then poverty will be history
When there's a socialist premier league
copyright elvis mcgonagall, 2005
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This Land's Not Your Land
A Republican Party Protest Song
By A Global Village Idiot Called
Backwoodsy Guthri
This land's not your land, this land is our land
From Columbus,Ohio to the Florida swampland
From the corporate jungle to the redneck ranchland
This land was made by Fox TV
It's bible bashin' Disneyland
It's yippee-ai eye for an eye
It's faith, family and flag
God, guns and apple pie
This land belongs to cowboys
In stetsons, spurs 'n suits
We're the Wall Street, Wal-Mart Waltons
John-Boy, Jim-Bob, Jack-Boots
In the Burger Kingdom of The Stupid
Stupid is as Stupid does
Forrest Gump is President
Yee-haw! He's one of us!
We're Starbuckin' bronco Marlboro' men
We're big chief swingin' dicks
It's John Wayne's world in Washington
We're the Capitol Hillbilly hicks
We don't read books, we do action
All-American wham bam ma'am!
Schwarzenegger Uber Alles!
Gimme five! Jean Claude Van Damme!
Rambo is not a poet
The French is arty-farty funks
We hate cheese surrender chimpanzees
We hate perverts, pansies, punks
'Cos them flip-flop pinko girly boys
They don't walk The American Way
The Dixie Chicks are Communists
SpongeBob SquarePants is gay
Hollywood is Satan's whorehouse
It's the Sodom 'n Gomorrah Motel
Route 666 to Tinseltown
Is the road to burnin' hell
We ride the hosanna highway
Saddle up our SUV
We got a two-ton tank 'n a ten-gallon hat
O-I-L spells victory
We're Team USA cheerleaders
Go! Go! Go! The Pentagon!
Shakin' 9/11 pompoms 24/7
Armageddon? Bring it on!
'Cos we're the evangelical vandals
Shit-kick, kick, kickin' down Mecca's door
Rainin' baptist bombs on Babylon
Behold their Shock 'n Awe!
We're pumpin' out Mohammed's diesel
Fillin' up Christ's limousine
Hallelujah Halliburton!
Glory! Glory! Gasoline!
Got no time for risin' oceans,
Ozone layers or polar bears
Kyoto - is that a Japanese car?
It's gettin' hot in here - who cares?
We export Nike swoosh democracy
Handmade with Asian sweat
And golden arches of MacFreedom
Built on African debt
Charlie Darwin was a monkey boy
His science fiction's over
The Almighty made us, that's a fact
Way to go Jehovah!
The American Dream is born again
It's a big name brand New Deal
It's a holy roller Coca-Cola
Prozac Happy Meal
It's Britney Spears 'n Bud Lite beers
It's Super-Size 'n Super Bowl
It's Dunkin' Donuts on your mind
It's botox for your soul
We don't spare no cash for trailer trash
You gotta help yourself Jose
We wipe our ass with dollar-bills
Da-doo Enron-ron have a nice day
We're the bullet-head neo-conmen
We're the mob that franchise fear
Cat Stevens is an evil terrorist
Folk with beards ain't welcome here
We zip 'em up like chocolate oranges
Shackle, cage, interrogate
We protect Wild West values
Strip, abuse, humiliate
We don't murder unborn babies
We're pro-life NRA
We Kentucky fry death-row deadbeats
We're electric KKK
We're the Saxon sons of Uncle Sam
Our blood's red, white 'n blue
There ain't no black in the Stars 'n Stripes
It don't fly for Apache or Sioux
We have loosed the fateful lightning
Of our terrible swift sword
We're the Pentecostal patriots
Kick-butt and praise The Lord!
This land's not your land, this land is our land
From the Buffalo Badlands to the cotton-pickin' Dixieland
From the Dust Bowl wasteland to the Presley Graceland
This land is Jesusland! Amen!
copyright elvis mcgonagall, 2005
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Jamie Oliver Twist (listen)
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- Presents
