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Vocals and Guitar - Olga
Bass and Vocals - K'Cee
Drums and Vocals - Marty
Produced by Michael (Olga) Algar
Recorded and mixed by Roy Neave
Recorded at Fairview Studios, Hull, UK

Olga: "Dedicated to our faithful friend and roadie Fat Bob, the vocals and guitar are just not loud enough on this album. It’s a shame coz there are some good tracks, especially Bitten By A Bed Bug. The Sphinx Stinks is good also. Again Ashbrooke is featured!"


Fat bob does not wash or scrub
He's never seen a bath tub before
When will fat bob use the sink?
We can't face the fat bob stink no more!

A killer pong on a gateshead street
50 drop dead bobby bobby
Quick quick quick it's fat bob's feet
There's nowt more deadly.

Fat bob's not cleaned his socks yet
He's not been to the launderette before
Spray fat bob's feet with fungicide
He's wiped out two thirds of tyneside or more

Chorus...(Guitar Bit)

Tyne & wear have got the blues
The end is nigh on the look north news
Fat bob's taken off his shooooooes


It only takes one wiff.


We fight for the queen & country & we're back here again
Over the hills to the battlefield 10 thousand marching men
We never say surrender but now we must admit
Shove the rotten regiment we're off on a moonlight flit

Ho tally ho! The battle cry oh! We're off down the pub
Ho tally ho! A pint & decent grub.

Down in the valley we can see
The men marching for victory
We'll skip the blood on the battlefield
Stuff all the bravery... Coz we quit the cavalry.

We're shot injured & wounded, they call us men of war
It's too noisy & dirty & we can't take no more
No bath or battlefield shower & people say we're brave
But now we're gonna do a bunk for a decent wash n' shave

Ho tally ho!.... Chorus

Shoot don't shoot this is not the life for me
Shoot don't shoot it's not my cup o' tea.

Guitar bit... Ho!... Chorus


The grub was vile, we couldn't crack a smile
We paid twenty smackers just to sail up the nile
It cos ten quid..
To get stuck inside a pppppyramid.

I'd rather be in hawaii, cleethorpes or southend
You won't catch us on the egypt bus again again again.

The... Sphinx stinks, sphinx stinks
They do not care on egypt air
Sphinx stinks, sphinx stinks
In cai i i i ro
The sphinx stinks, sphinx stinks
You will get ripped off in egypt oh!

The hotel room filled us with gloom
We should o' spent the night in a mummy's tomb
A camel ride...
Another ten smackers and a numb backside.

I'd rather be...
Chorus...(Guitar Bit)



Rodney remember me, rodney remember me....
She haunts rodney's memory

Rodney gave sheila a slap when she begged him not to drink
"mind yer own damn business" rodney snarled, he didn't think
Now everything from then is blurred but rodney can't forget those words
She cried....


Now rodney was a slob, he treat sheila just like muck
"move yourself" he growled and dragged her to his pick-up truck
He looped the loop in a drunken stupor down the mountain side
When sheila cried.....

Chorus...(Guitar Bit)

Oh! Rodney took her in his arms and through the broken glass
He climbed out of the wreckage & he lay her on the grass
He had too many beers, but he couldn't hide the tears
When sheila cried.....



Was it something that i spilt on my new continental quilt or what?
Could it have been a bad dream that crept in bed & made me scream or what?
What attracted such a beast, why did it want to make a feast of me?..

Bug bug a bug a bed bug
A bug a bug a bug a bug bugger than a bumble bee
Bug bug a bug a bed bug
A bug a bug a bug a bug a bug a bug a bug bit me!
In a night of misery.

Was it coz the chocolate sweets i ate last night between the sheets or what?
What could it be that made me frown, the biscuit crumbs on my night gown or what?
A nit in need of nourishment, it got inside the bed & went for me.

Chorus... (guitar bit)

Was it coz i was dirty that it took a fancy to me or what?
I jumped up sweating with fright, oh will it take another bite or what?
I felt the fangs rip through my vest, the mattress monster was digesting me!



Lookin' out a dirty old window, down below the cars in the city go rushing by
We sit here with no dosh and wonder why?
Should we catch the bus to newcastle, we can't be bothered with the hassle
Going down, to search for some bread in this dirty town.

Down down it really is no joke, down town everybody is broke...

We're the kids in tyne & wear wooo
We're the kids in tyne & wear wooo
Everybody lives in the hope o' some cash!

Bright light & music gets faster, in the disco we can't afford to have a dance
We could never pay two quid, not a chance
Pig sick, down the job center, much later we will be thinking never mind
You know life is cruel, life is never kind.

Find time to earn an extra bob, find time to do a fiddle job.

Chorus... Na na na....

Looking round the metro centre, gotta get a brand new experience feeling rich
We can't stop, we're skint and we've got the itch.
Sunderland south shields & gateshead, not a bleedin' chance to make bread
Anywhere, we don't want to go baby.

Whitley bay across to cumbria, you'll be broke if you come 'ere.


Frankie says that he's got vertigo
He says this every time he leaves the pub, blotto.
Backaches, bellyaches, earaches & migraines
Frankie’s life is misery & full of aches n' pains.

Frankie’s got the blues.. Frankie's neurotic, he's always feeling pig sick
Frankie's got the blues.. You will have to excuse, frankie's got the blues

Frankie sneezes once then goes to bed
"i've got double pneumonia" frankie said
Frankie lives in the doctors surgery
Everytime he has a shave he waits in casualty

Chorus...(Guitar Bit)

"they say i am a hypercondriac", condriac condriac
"but i have got yellow fever, that's a fact"
A blue bottle landed on frankie's head, frankie's head... Frankie's head
"right, that's it, i've got malaria i'll soon be dead".



Kick his head, smash his face & do a bunk with his brief case
Shoplifting for a lark, walk on the grass in the park
In the restaurant loads o' nosh, stuff yer face & leave no dosh
We are skint but we're alright, a different burglary each night

No little blue light, there's not a copper in sight no more..

You can commit any crime you please
You won't get nicked in sunderland, the coppers are softies
They hide when there's a thief or rogue at large
When they get hit they run & tell the sarge... A bunch o' fairies

Rob a bank, get some bread or be a pickpocket instead
A torch a swag bag with a crow bar, getaway in a stolen car
Break in to the town hall, spray graffiti on the wall
If you're drunk and disorderly, then sunderland's the place to be

You won't get me, down wearside constabulary

Chorus...(Guitar Bit)

Run buck naked in the street, there ain't a bobby on the beat
Raid the local jewelry store, no one to stop you break the law

The bobby's get sore, but there's no constables round here no more



Yellow burt, the softest copper round 'ere
Yellow burt, a coward, a whimp, that's clear
Are your p.c. Friends on the beat again
That is very sad, makes me feel so bad
Knock his helmet off, kick n' slap the puff
He's a yellow belly

Burt's a bleedin' softy...



Just like we had ffffeared, the mates we had have all disappeared
Nicky, flip, paul, fat bob and ted, they all done a bunk & all got wed
Out with the lads for a laugh and a beer, those days are no longer 'ere
With a lump in yer throat & a shiver down yer spine

They're the memories of 1979

Wooooooooooo that's where we wanna be 1979
Wooooooooooo that's where we wanna be back in '79

Flip a punk sssuddenly aged, he sold his leather jacket just to get engaged
Bobby was a skinhead, but bobby's hair grew, all for a bird who made him bbblue
We never thought we’d see the day, teddy with a missus in the family way
Oh what went wrong? Things were just fine,

So take me back to 1979

Chorus...(Guitar Bit)

Freddie was a free bloke fffull o' life, now freddie is a bag o' misery with a wife
Everynight george hit the town, by 8'o clock now he's in his dressing gown
They ain't the lads we knew before, you don't see them down the pub no more
They're discontented mates o' mine who wanna be back in 1979.


He was a rich man, he was a sod
Income tax thief known as ken dodd
Lock him up dump doddy in the nick
A greedy pig with a tickling stick

Not content in the super tax bracket
1/2 a mill in the pocket of his jacket
He climbed up stairs to hide away the bread
1/2 a million smackers under ken's bed.

Oo oo oo he dodged the inland revenue
A liverpudlian with loads o' loot
He didn't declare it, he didn't give a hoot!

Ken ken, who's he again?
A disappointment to the diddymen
Ken ken, had the upper hand
Now he'll never expand on his 500 grand
Ken ken, had a load o' cash
Till the cops copt ken in notty ash.

The cops crept in to where ken slept
They knew where ken's cash was kept
Doddy then had to confess
The dosh was under his mattress

Ooo... Chorus...(Guitar Bit)