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Black Eyed Doggerel
Podcasts - Comedy - Adult
Charts #163 today (peak #29)
Charts #19 in subgenre today (peak #5)
Ben Power/Ben Power
October 05, 2016
MP3 6.8 MB
128 kbps bitrate
7:24 minutes
Black Eyed Doggerel Hello, my name's Ben, and I’m a remarkably ineffective punk Though I'm forthright, and moody and spent about 10 years drunk With the body of a god, shame it was Buddha Could have gone to the gym, maybe I shoulda Flab, a beer belly and muscles like play dough And a head like a large, rather scary potato I freeloaded one bit I just said off a T-shirt slogan in a marvellous fit of inspiration But the neurotic integrity of these requires me to admit that information And thus self-referentially molest the poetic flow Oh well, familiar territory, on with the show So my mate says to me 'Oi, write something upbeat and funny You know, flowers and kitties and big, fuzzy bunnies Leaping squirrels with bushy smiles...' But fuck that shit, it's not my style So I thought I'd reform last year's rant now I'm clean And thus better equipped to describe the obscene A word of warning, you may probably be offended By the time this diatribe has ended Just like Socrates' gad, I was quite a barred fly The salt up the nose, shot, a nice lemoned eye And perusing Nick Drake songs at a bus-stop brings poetic inspiration And 70s New York No-Wave bands provide an education If you don't get those delicate subject hints then I'll leap to the point So I can leave here and piss off outside for a joint Actually, only tobacco this time But I had to get this fucker to rhyme I'm the world's least successful suicide case I just can't help living, it's a total disgrace You could fire me into the sun, I'd just climb out With a bit of a tan and a headache no doubt So I shoved an electric drill through my wrist With disgraceful ineptitude, I wasn't even pissed Missed the sodding artery by a few millimetres Well there went bloody Heaven, not a peep from St Peter But my medial and ulnar nerves were shredded to hell Great, time to swap wanking hands as well In recompense I got an itchy, throbbing infection Which is a bit of a pain when you're on ‘24 hour’ obs and a section My old mates all got fucked up and I missed them like absolute hell Thinking, oh well, I'll hop on the blue bus as well So I necked about 86 Ibuprofen and stumbled off to bed Woke up 2 days later, thinking 'oh darn, it appears I'm not dead' I think it’s 86 at least but beyond that I can’t remember Welcome to the joys of this nice long bender Still, praise to the angels that I managed to cope And merely paralysed my right hand side through a stroke Then into my arm veins I hammered some nails Torquemada would be proud but, alas, it failed Then out came the blades, bleach and hydrochloric acid Farewell lovely world as my body went flaccid Until multiple blood transfusions returned me right here But the offie of life wasn't serving cheap beer So I wrapped a long belt around a door handle One last drop for this literary vandal But oh no my, that just wouldn't do Couldn't have the bugger turning blue And floating in the void that time Not without a chance for a good old whine My mate found me in an awkward situation And assumed it was a case of auto-erotic asphyxiation Being seen as a bit of a pervert, I wouldn't put it past me If only he knew that the truth was more ghastly Bashed my head on the wall again and again Praying for a blood clot to form in my brain But I only succeeded in breaking the plaster Straight through to a sodding bees-nest, I've never run faster Another one was 40 quid's worth of accumulated Neurofen You'd really bloody think you'd have got an effect by then Unfortunately not, they were two years out of date I didn't check the packets till it was far too late Not exactly the desired situation Merely a case of chronic constipation A real under-dose, it was a bit of a drag I came out with an arse even more like the Japanese flag Narked, I thought long and hard about what to do next As I sprawled on the taps with an over-priced Becks Perhaps I could go out by fondling a bear Not the chappies at F.I.S.T, I mean big teeth and hair Or swallow heavy water with great aplomb And turn myself into a walking A-bomb Or do it American-style, death by cop Buy a .44 magnum and leave it cocked As I charged naked into the local nick With some Semtex and Cameron’s head on a stick Screaming 'Death to the infidels! Praise to Lord Satan!' Take a shit on the front desk, moan 'Mmm, smell that bacon!' Announce a 28 year history of successful Juche-inspired terror attacks Without stopping to ponder the Mental Health Act 'Cos I'm the world's least successful suicide case You'll have noticed by now, it's a right fucking disgrace I think that Rasputin chap has nothing on my life Yes, living the dream, leading the high life But still, undeniably, through all the shite I remain, F...I...N...E and marginally erudite I hope you've enjoyed me, one transcendentally miserable sot I'm off for my fag so g'night, that's your lot