Elvis McGonagall
Elvis McGonagall - poet, twit and armchair revolutionary does the rhyming this week. Find out more about him on his .
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Cabbage soup, kaballah water
Ashtanga yoga, seaweed wrap
Jade Goody’s fight flab DVD
Detox-happy claptrap
Defy the fitness fascists
The treadmill Mussolinis
In the year two double-0 seven
Let’s all drink dry martinis
“Fearless Flotsamâ€
With the grace of a fat, frozen penguin
Adrift on an ironing board
He wobbles afloat on an ocean of hope
Out of his depth, untoward
His wetsuit – a soaking tuxedo
His towel - so flimsy, absurd
He’s bootless, he’s useless, he’s rubbish
The Trashmen’s “Crap Surfin’ Birdâ€
But as Neptune’s white horses come crashing
He stands up and fights, bold and brave
Not waving but drowning and laughing
In the face of a three foot high wave
For he may not Hang Ten or Hang Five
Still he flicks a two-fingered salute
To the Bondi bleached blonde gnarly Nazis
Who yell “Yo! Is that dude King Canute?â€
As he lies on the shore, a beached whale eating sand
Battered and bruised but unbowed
Flung from the rip with a stiff upper-lip
England’s failure, glorious, proud
He’s amateur Albion’s Galahad heart
Immune to defeat – just the ticket
When they pick him to join our fine, flannelled fools
Down under and playing crap cricket
“Shake A Tail Featherâ€
Deep down in a dungeon is no place to be
Where the dust and the dirt taste so bitter
When all the young dudes want to wear platform boots
Ziggy Stardusts in lipstick and glitter
So don’t be a broken pit-pony
A canary that’s trapped in the shaft
(And don’t tap-dance while reading the news in the dark
Or people will think that you’re daft)
Don’t drag yourself round like a zombie
From “The Night Of The Living Deadâ€
Uncage your soul and strut your stuff
Let your wings spread
Ride a white swan and trot like a fox
Move those tiger feet
Trip the light fantastic
Twinkle your toes to the beat
Soft-shoe shuffle and shimmy
Cut a rug, jitterbug and fandango
Pogo and polka, watusi and waltz
Lambada, bolero and tango
Reach for the sky and wish for the moon
Tarantella with “The Spiders From Marsâ€
We’ve only got one cha-cha-cha chance
C’mon darlin’ – let’s dance with the stars
