Looking Good

Looking Good.

First you have an earring,
Just see how it goes,
Then you have another ring,
And put it through your nose.

Then you have some more rings,
And if you're feeling hip,
Have a few more in your ears,
And one right through your lip.

Decorate your body
With a small tattoo,
Then have sev'ral others done,
Until they cover you.

If you still feel common,
If you still feel dull,
Shave off all your head hairs,
Have tattoos on your skull.

Have a stud right through your tongue,
Wear outrageous pants,
Enhance your lovely body
With huge breast implants.

Have rings in your nipples,
Have your friends in fits,
Have some major metalwork
In your naughty bits.

Diet and take exercise
For a great physique.
End up lean and muscly,
Like a steroid freak.

Have a major facelift,
And work done on your eyes,
So that you can have that look
Of permanant surprise.

Adapt these things I'm saying
To your special case,
If you want to look like
A thing from outer space.

*

Height.

When I was much younger,
And I do not boast,
I was fairly skinny,
Lankier than most.

Now that I am older,
I've been living right.
I'm a man of average weight
And of average height.

If I live much longer,
An interesting thought,
I will be quite heavy
And relatively short.

*

Domestic Violence Song.

Never hit a woman,
Except in self defence.
No excuse that you feel low
And your mood's intense.

Never hit a woman,
Just because you can,
Or you want to prove to her
That you are a man.

Never hit a woman;
It's not the thing to do
To prove that you're a Muslim,
A Christian or a Jew.

Never hit a woman;
Don't smash her in the face,
Just to show her who's the boss
And keep her in her place.

Never hit a woman,
Or throw her down the stairs,
Just to show that she's alone
And no-one really cares.

Never hit a woman,
Or stand upon her throat,
Just because she's got a job
And she's got the vote.

Never hit a woman,
Or kick her up the bum.
A man who hits a woman
Is filthy, rotten scum.

*

Diets.

In olden times, if you ate meat,
You had to be quite trim and neat.
If dinner, lunch or tea were prey,
It always tried to run away.

In olden times if you ate plants,
You had to have two sets of pants.
Your fatness was for this good reason:
Every year, a famine season.

So evolution worked just great,
Your build arose from what you ate.
The world has changed in many ways,
But that's still true in modern days.

To put this point a little blunter,
Convince your body you're a hunter.
Then you'll be both thin and hale,
While all the other diets fail.

(The above is for entertainment purposes only and does not constitute dietary or medical advice.)

*

Superyoung.

Why am I so young and lovely,
When all around are growing old?
Why are they so warm and giving,
When I'm indifferent and cold?

Fellows that I went to school with,
When we're out and having fun,
Women point to me and ask them,
"Tell me, sir, is that your son?"

Though I have few lines or wrinkles,
At least I've gone a little bald.
For my age it is quite normal;
"Premature" is what it's called.

I don't try to take advantage,
Never lie about my age.
This can lead to admiration,
Or to jealousy and rage.

I don't try to lack emotion;
None of this was ever planned.
Jealousy is just a concept.
Anger, I don't understand.

Why am I so young and lovely?
How did I become this way?
Actually, I know the answer:
It's down to luck and DNA.

**

Farmers' Song.

(This is a duet, each singer taking alternate verses and joining together for the final verse.)

We don't sail the ocean's deep;
We are farmers and we raise sheep.

We don't sail upon the seas,
But we expect huge sub-sid-ees.

We're not firemen, we're not cops;
We are farmers and we grow crops.

We don't lead you all in prayer.
We want cash from the taxpayer.

We won't offer to sell your house;
We are farmers and we raise cows.

We won't take you where it's sunny.
We demand more government money.

We're not people who sweep the street;
We are farmers and we grow wheat.

We don't run a nuclear plant,
But we want a government grant.

We don't run university courses;
We are farmers and we breed horses.

We don't come and take your trash,
But we want more government cash.

We don't operate on your brain;
We are farmers and we grow grain.

We're not artists or engravers;
We want the state to do us favours.

We don't sell you dogs or parrots;
We are farmers and we grow carrots.

We are farmers and we raise swine,
And we love to moan and whine.