Slam the slam
Slam the slam
If you can, well slam the slam
Can you…shout yourself hoarse for a smattering of applause
Can you shout yourself hoarse for the smallest of causes
Can you shout yourself hoarse over chatting and orders
When they order a whisky, complaining is risky
When they order a vodka, they think you’re a plonker
When they start telling jokes, you start wanting a smoke
Even though you gave it up, here’s something else you should
Give it up for the poet, even though it’s shit
Give it up for the fool who will never be cool
Give it up for this guy you’d never look in the eye
Give it up for God’s sake, don’t give up yer day job
Slam the slam
Slam the slam
If you can, well slam the slam
Some of ‘em are listening, some are getting drinks in
Some of ‘em are whistling, some wetting their whistle
Some of ‘em are pissing over in the lavatory
Some are sitting in committees playing judge and jury
Sitting with a bitter, thought judges should be sober
No wonder I’m bitter, got a chip on my shoulder
Thrown by a chap who is one or two over
The limit for lyrical appreciation
Be patient with these dimwits, grim situation
Be patient with these poets and their oration
Give lukewarm applause, not a standing ovation
Slam the slam
Slam the slam
If you can, well slam the slam
He’s done that one before, that’s all he’s got
He’s never won before, but he still carries on
She always takes the mike, but they always take the mick
And that one likes double entendres about dicks
And fancy her, yes I do, I’ll give her a good … mark
And he’s very loud and proud and confident
And he’s learned his lines well, obviously spent
Many a long night in front of the mirror
Practising each word, voice tone, posture
I’ve lost yer, it cost me a lot to get here
So let me win, the prize money will pay half my bus fare
It’s not fair!
Slam the slam
Slam the slam
If you can, well slam the slam
You gotta keep it simple and you gotta make ‘em laugh
He’s had a skinful, higher than a giraffe
Acquiring their attention’s a skill and a craft
Acquiring their attention’s a skill and a craft
I need to repeat myself, or I’ll be defeated
I need to repeat myself, audience depleted
I need to repeat myself, how long have I bleated
Time for the gong mate, time you were gone mate
It’s poetry in motion, flushed down to the ocean
I’d love to say ‘SHIT’ but I bottled it
I got the bottle, got the bird, what a happy ending
With the bottle I’ll get pissed
With the bird I’ll get a kiss
So thanks a lot, you lot, and suck on this
Slam the slam
Slam the slam
If you can, well slam the slam
