Artistic Integrity - A Parody (Revised)

parody - noun

1.A literary or artistic work that imitates the characteristic style of an author or work for comic effect or ridicule

2. The genre of literature comprising such works.

3. Something so bad as to be the equivalent to intentional mockery; a travesty.

Your latest album has caused,

Well, lets be honest,

A hosepipe amount of controversy,

Especially your last single:

Proud to be Celibate at the Global Capitalist Gang Bang.

I mean,

That was pretty angry,

I mean,

It's great,

But, wow! what inspired you guys to..?

..Oh, you know,

Wasn't one thing,

More a combination of everything,

Merged together:

You know the bankers' bail-out,

Unbelievable,

All those free marketeers being saved by,

Irony!: A collapsing banking system that had to be socialised!

All that,

That's what the single was about.

It really seemed to touch a nerve..

I'd say!

More nerves than a brain neurologist!

The lyrics,

What is it?:

"You said that greed is good/

But It's Karl Marx whose got the morning wood/

Your reign is full of acid/

Your eyes are flaccid.."

Whooh!

Yeah, there's definitely anger there,

I'm no Marxist, but I was making the point...

Sometimes you have to get past their defences,

Go straight for the arteries.

It's dangerous:

You attack the system like that,

You attack yourself..

How do you mean?

Music is like a psychic sieve,

My thoughts drain out into society,

And if they're subversive,

Especially if not articulated politely,

Can be frightening.

You're putting yourself in the firing line,
.......
Like you or I eat pies.

Do you think that there is any contradiction,

Then,

When,

You allowed,

Proud to be Celibate at the Global Capitalist Gang Bang,

To be used as the theme tune to the Bloonex toilet roll advert?

God, no.

No?

No.

Why?

Why? Because it's another way to get our message out there,

It appeals and pulls in a different consumer demographic,

That's central to us enablising -

if that's a word -,

Our musical product,

But I mean that it an obviously positive way,

To an otherwise discluded -

if that's another word,

Brand identity,

And thus,

Revitalise our base.

It's no use playing to a stadium that's empty.

As long as you keep your artistic integrity.

We Swooned, Just a Bit

We swooned,

Just a bit,

As only commuter-strangers,

Swoon.

Daring and guarded, she passed,

And,

Her fingers,

Feather stroked my hand,

So I turned,

And,

Of course,

She was gone.

She was gone.

"There you go",

I probably smiled.

That instant yearning deja vu.

Not again!

This is no good,

This is no good at all.

I probably said to myself.

How I hate my moon/jejune heart, when,

When it gets all double-jointed earnest,

Like this.

And,

You know something?

Such episodes,

For what they are,

Define the lives,

For the,

Dazed, dozy,

Love hazy,

Shy,

And daft,

Commuter.

I'm also good at almost tumbling down escalators...

This Tragic Poet Is Proudly Brought To You By

This tragic poet is proudly brought to you by:

Caligula Pesto Sauce;
Mwah-Aah! pregnancy test kit;
Lulu, the French poodle organic food people;
Magic Ninja Noodles;
Cheeky Bunny Dildos, the cheeky bunny dildo company;
InterBlast - "We kill. We lightly maim. We don't murder."
Bespoke state sponsored exotic weapons of distinction;
Cybosimian Experimental Children;
And,
D'Bingonan! - Designer false teeth for the urban geriatric chic.

Don't Mess With Them

Women with their hair,

Pulled into,

A very tight bun,

They wear those Puffa style coats,

Usually red ones.

You think they're joking?

They're not even joking.

The Big Celebrity That Could

Thank you so much for doing this interview.

It's my pleasure too, thank you.

Before we talk about your new film,

I've read in your interviews, that,

You don't like talking about all the charity work you do?

Oh it's just,

I don't want people,

You know what they're like,

Thinking,

I'm doing this for publicity.

For me,

It's a very personal and private gift,

That I am giving of myself,

Yeah I know,

They say I've saved lives,

But,

In all honesty,

I'm no better than anyone,

Jesus,

Or even Oprah Winfrey.

Empathy

All we need is empathy,

Empathy is all we need.

Non Stick Frying Pans Simply Don't Exist

Non stick frying pans,
They simply don't exist,
Say it with me:
They. Simply. Don't. Exist.

Flying saucers,
The yeti,
Quality day time telly,
Okay,
Maybe.

But non stick frying pans?
Come on!
They simply don't exist.

Amen.

Pavements with Airbags

When are we going to have pavements with airbags?
Pavement rage seems to be a growing menace
these days,
Bouncy castle style pavements are also
a sensible option,
To combat the growing menace,
That is pavement rage.


There are all sorts of new rages
waiting to happen,
Once they are given the green light,
To be a malaise,
Lying fast asleep rage seems like a viable psychosis,
Airbags on pillows,
For deeply sleepy rage.

Significant Celebrity Death

Claw-back,

Assimilation,

Accountability,

Holistic, provisional, procure,
Invest, steering group,
Financial upturn,
Bi-annual performance review,
Ring fenced blue sky thinking,
Ciabatta.

All this and more,
In my next love letter to you,

Please don't leave me,
I've never said all this to anyone before,

You promise not to tell anyone?
I'll kill myself if you do..

No love,
How could I,
No one has ever whispered such
heartfelt and wonderful things to me,
So rare,
To actually know,
A woman,
Who isn't scared to express her feelings,
With such abandon,
And joy,

I feel the love,
Imagine what our children
would be like,
We're still so young.

We're so nineties,
God bless Kurt Cobain,
He had a significant celebrity death,
But,
He's not that dead really,
Not with people like us around..

I Pluck

I pluck my moustache with tweezers,
Don't look so surprised,
What would you expect me to pluck my moustache with?

Very useful they are too,
Especially when I'm having,
An official,
Bad Moustache Day.

I tried to pluck my moustache with a plectrum once,
Didn't work;
Musical differences.

A Thought

A thought just crossed my mind,
Sadly,
It forgot to look this way,
So got knocked over
By its train.

What a waste,
Such a young thought too,
two-and-a-half nanoseconds,
The coroner said.
So sad and thoughtless.

You never know though,
It could return,
In the evening,
Going the same way as the opposite train.

Jejune Moon

We fell in love under the moon,
It was jejune,
Or was it jejuly?
Sorry,
I'm a bit drunk,
And a bit jejolly.