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» An Ode To The C&G
» T' Art of Ecky Thump
T' ART OF ECKY THUMP
(Brett Allender 2013)
(Inspired by the classic Series 5 episode 'Kung Fu Kapers')
I wanted to learn a martial art
But kung fu just wasn't it
For that load of old Chinese junk
Couldn't even smash Max's album to bits
It wasn't much good for hurting people
Like poncy public school pansy Tim
Half an hour after I'd laid him out flat
I had to go and kill him again
Karate and judo were just as dull
I was really down in the dumps
Til I heard of the more subtle and superior skill
Of the Lancastrians and their Ecky Thump
I journeyed forth to seek true enlightenment
To t' Mystic East in Rochdale, Lancs
T' delicate lady of t' temple pocketed my money
And let me in with t' rest of t' cranks
In t' small flat hat of an Ecky Thump novice
I soon met my great Grand Master
I grummited nowt of his famous wise saying
So he said it again even faster
I pigged out on t' pudding, chip butties and tripe
And t' piece of parkin for afters
A gang chuck and off to t' meditation room
To lift t' tin roof off t' rafters
T' air was heavy with mystic scents
But my soul wasn't particularly pure
Another ritual bath with exotic unguents
And I still reeked a lot like manure
After t' maiden's delicate massage
And t' master class as well
T' Grand Master revealed Ecky Thump's secret
But it's something that I just can't tell
In my black belt, braces and big flat hat
Rather than divulge I'd commit Harry Corbett
So if you sneer that I'm a "Chelsea supporter"
Then I'm gonna just ignore it
But if you keep bragging on about your rellies
Like Wee Hamish and his Och Aye The Noo
Or silly Uncle Taffy and his Yach-y-daa
Then I'll show them all what I can do
I trust they'll be there, if not all at once
At dawn on Primrose Hill
T' black boxer, t' Frenchman, t' Aussie and Scot
For my pudding has licence to kill
Then it's time to spread a little harmful fun
And badly dubbed movies, what a hoot
I'll lead t' grand march on t' parliament
And give all those pollies t' boot
What's that you say – they've been booted already?
T' election was held last month
Flippin' 'eck, I'll need a new target then
To practice my Ecky Thump
I'll sneak into t' Big Brother house
And bop 'em all on t' head
But they probably won't even feel a thing
They're mostly already brain dead
Or perhaps t' bimbos in those music videos
On t' modern-day 'Top of the Pops'
But most of them love to be spanked on t' bum
I might never be allowed to stop!
With ten million puddings from Peckinpah's
And dozens of little red books
I've got no-one to Ecky Thump
So things are rather crook
But now I see t' footage from Bill's recent tour
And my spirits begin to soar
All those keen Goodies fans with their flat hats and puds
A dozen or two, maybe more
Worthy challengers to my Grand Master belt
Or just pretenders to the throne?
There's only one way to settle all this
With our black puddings made out of foam
So t' next time t' Goodies come to town
I'll be there for a scrap, of course
In my black belt and braces, pudding at the ready
Only to be gunned down with tomato sauce!