Bohemian Rhapsody

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.
Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see.
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.
Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low.
Any way the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me... to me.

Mama, just killed a man,
Put a gun against his head,
Pulled my trigger, now he's dead.
Mama, life had just begun,
But now I've gone and thrown it all away.
Mama, didn't mean to make you cry,
If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,
Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters.

Too late, my time has come,
Send shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time.
Goodbye everybody, I've got to go,
Gotta leave you all behind, and face the truth.
Mama, (any way the wind blows),
I don't wanna die, I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.

I see a little silhouetto of a man,
Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Will you do the fandango?
Thunderbolt and lightning very very frighteningly!
Galileo! Galileo! Galileo! Galileo! Galileo Figaro! Magnifico!
I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me.
He's just a poor boy from a poor family,
Spare him his life from this monstrosity!
Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?
Bismillah! No! We will not let you go!
Let him go! Bismillah! We will not let you go!
Let him go! Bismillah! We will not let you go!
Let me go! Will not let you go!
Let me go! Will not let you go!
Never never let me go? No no no no no no no!
Oh mama mia! Mama mia! Mama mia! Let me go!
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me... for me... for me!

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye!
So you think you can love me and leave me to die!
Oh baby, can't do this to me baby,
Just gotta get out... just gotta get right out of here!

Oh yeah! Oh yeah!

Nothing really matters, anyone can see.
Nothing really matters, nothing really matters to me.

Any way the wind blows...

Bohemian Rhapsody

A mega heavy-metal tale by the late, great Freddie Mercury, with Brian May, Roger Taylor, and John Deacon, off the EMI album 'A Night At The Opera', lyrics painstakingly twisted by David Bourke into a mega-anagram in tribute to his favourite group, and also in apology for all homophobically-nasty gay sodomy anagrams on William Tunstall-Pedoe's internet-site, www.anagramgenius.com - No offence is meant, just the way they fell into place, honest! (Tee hee!) Um, anyway, where was I? Um... oh yeah, Bohemian Rhapsody, a metal masterpiece, the title of which doesn't appear in the lyrics. Voted 'Song Of The Millennium' (and justly too, if I may say!). Such huge dynamics! (ie: godly multi-tracked vocals, jolly-good keyboard bits by Freddie, Brian May's fantastically-awesome guitar solo, the glum John's bass, mainly solid, yet subtle too, Roger's lusty drumming and falsetto wail). An innovative video (jolly-good too!)... what more could you ask, eh? Alright, I'm told the lyrics are 'Sooooooooo pretentious' (Moi? MOI?) but so what? It was a groundbreaking musical milestone, albeit, I argue, with a little debt to The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Mott The Hoople, Tull, Yes, and ELO. Even after twenty-four or so years, no-one has yet bettered it, in terms of inventiveness and originality. It was given a new lease of life by the film 'Wayne's World'. They may be gone (boo hoo hoo!), but Brian still gamely goes on, solo, and many, many a million go on enjoying listening to the band (ie: on singles, albums, live Wembley-gig videos, telly, etc. Um, must I go on? Must I? No, not me... THEY must! Will we 'Let them go... let them go-oh-oh-oh?' - Ooh my! No way! Ooh, long may they go on, long into the New Millennium (ie: MM). Ooh, they'll jolly-well rock you too! Mega-mega-mega-mega-mega-metal-magic! More? Ooh yeah! 'Mama mia! Mama mia!' to you all!

Stairway To Heaven

There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold,
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.
When she gets there, she knows, if the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for.
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.

There's a sign on the wall, but she wants to be sure,
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.
In a tree by the brook, there's a songbird who sings.
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven.
Ooh, it makes me wonder. Ooh it makes me wonder.

There's a feeling I get when I look to the west,
And my spirit is crying for leaving.
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees,
And the voices of those who stand looking.
Ooh, it makes me wonder. Ooh, it really makes me wonder.

And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long,
And the forests will echo with laughter.
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow. don't be alarmed now!
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run,
There's still time to change the road you're on.

And it makes me wonder.
Your head is humming and it won't go,
In case you don't know, the piper's calling you to join him.
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know,
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?
And as we wind on down the road,
Our shadows taller than our soul,
There walks a lady we all know,
Who shines white light and wants to show,
How everything still turns to gold.
And if you listen very hard,
The tune will come to you at last.
When all are one and one is all,
To be a rock and not to roll.
And she's buying a stairway to heaven.

Stairway To Heaven

So, was this song an anthem, eh? Tosh! An anathema more like! What a senseless utter waste of vinyl! Ooh, how it makes me wonder, too, if it might not magically go away if I try to re-arrange all the lyrics into an anagram, so why not? Here goes:
So, what hippy-shite drug-head nonsense! What a useless skank-wank, with ridiculous "oh wow!" way-out airy-fairy words by the long-golden-haired Adonis, the walking-codpiece, Robert 'Percy' Plant, music by the violin bow, theremin and a Gibson double-necked guitar-toting, cigarette-toking, snake-trousered wuss Jimmy Page, augmented by John Bonham's trademark leaden skull-crushing drumming, and an oh-so-boring bassist (a tautology there?) whose name I forget... uh... oh... wotsit... uh... a Paul something, I think.
Now, this overblown, indulgent whole lotta wank was released in the early seventies when, sadly, such oh-so-silly Tolkienesque twaddle was seemingly the norm, and so, since then, what a lot we have had to endure, listening to it alternate with such as The Who's 'Won't Get Fooled Again', then Lynyrd Skynyrd's tedious 'Freebird' (yawn!), and (even worse) those totally-useless old tossers The Blue Oyster Cult's 'Don't Fear The Reaper' too, every time we turn on the radio! (Oh, and for what it's worth, how I do so much prefer the wonderful new didgeridoo version by the legendary three-legged (ie: one wooden) Australian star, Rolf Harris!) Now then - has it gone away? ah, hold on, we'll have a look, eh? What! Oh no! Aw shit, it's still here! Oh ho-hum, never mind... so it was worth a try, wasn't it? Ah well, so what? Ah, yes indeed, we'd all of us go down to hell, as soon as hear this damn useless shite tune once more, wouldn't we now?

Won't Get Fooled Again

We'll be fighting in the streets,
With our children at our feet,
And the morals that they worship will be gone.
And the men who spurred us on,
Sit in judgement of all wrong,
They decide, and the shotgun sings the song.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution,
Take a bow for the new revolution,
Smile and grin at the change all around,
Pick up my guitar and play,
Just like yesterday,
And I'll get on my knees and pray,
We don't get fooled again.

The change it had to come,
We knew it all along,
We were liberated from the fold that's all.
And the world looks just the same,
And history ain't changed,
'Cause the banners were all flown in the last war.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution,
Take a bow for the new revolution,
Smile and grin at the change all around,
Pick up my guitar and play,
Just like yesterday,
And I'll get on my knees and pray,
We don't get fooled again, no no.

I'll move myself and my family aside,
If we happen to be left half alive,
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky,
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie.

There's nothing in the street looks any different to me,
And the slogans are replaced by the by.
And the parting on the left is now a parting on the right,
And the beards have all grown longer over night.

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution,
Take a bow for the new revolution,
Smile and grin at the change all around,
Pick up my guitar and play,
Just like yesterday,
And then, I'll get on my knees and pray,
We don't get fooled again... don't get fooled again, no no.
Yeah!
Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

Won't Get Fooled Again

A song by legendary band The Who, lyrics made into an anagram.
The Who was:
The Gibson Les Paul guitar-smashing, huge-hootered Peter Dennis Blandford Townshend (guitar and keyboard), the little mike-swinging trout-fisherman Roger Harold "Do you know me?" Daltrey (vocals), the tall, deep-voiced, flying-fingered, statue-like gentleman, John Alec Entwistle (bass), and the often daft "Wild Man Of Rock", the late, great, one-and-only Keith John Moon on the drums, who was replaced by the solid, yet somewhat flat, uninspiring Small Face, Kenney Jones, who left, the drumstool eventually getting taken up by the talented, technically-brilliant top session-player Simon Phillips. (A note: only on the nineteen-eighty-nine American tour dates). Along with "Baba O'Riley", Pete Townshend's hypnotic synthesizer part on this song added a new post-"Tommy" dimension to The Who, a formula that Pete then used on a few later Who tracks, eg: "Relay", "Who Are You?", "You Better You Bet" and "Eminence Front". The song was a live audio-and-visual fave, with Daltrey phoney goose-stepping and 'Heil-Hitlering' under a green delta laserlight dome, the not-forgotten Keith's tell-tale heavy, powerful, attacking drumming kicked-in, and then, with a yell, Pete Townshend took off in the air, legs apart, with a huge deafening "kerrangg!", and landed, right arm windmilling, with a jaw-dropping wall of light that illuminated the arena at the end. Phew! Just a totally, totally, totally, totally, totally fucking awesome event! Thanks then, Pete!

All The Young Dudes

Well Billy rapped all night about his suicide,
How he'd kick it in the head when he was twenty five,
Speed jive, don't wanna stay alive, when you're twenty five.
And Wendy's stealing clothes from Marks and Sparks,
And Freddie's got spots from ripping off the stars from his face,
Funky little boatrace.
The television man is crazy, saying we're juvenile deliquent wrecks,
Oh man! I need TV when I got T-Rex.
Oh brother, you guessed! I'm a dude now!

All the young dudes - Hey! Dudes!
Carry The News - Where are ya?
Boogaloo dudes - Stand up! Fight!
Carry the news
All the young dudes - I wanna hear you!
Carry The News - I wanna see you!
Boogaloo dudes - I wanna talk to you! All of you!
Carry the news - Now!

Now, Lucy's looking sweet, 'cause he dresses like a queen,
But he can kick like a mule, it's a real mean team,
But we can love. Oh yes, we can love.
And my brother's back at home with his Beatles and his Stones,
He never got it off on that revolution stuff,
What a drag, too many snags.
Now I drunk a lot of wine, and I'm feeling fine,
Gonna race some cat to bed.
Oh, is that concrete all around, or is it in my head?
Yeah! I'm a dude now!

All the young dudes - Hey, dudes!
Carry The News - Where are ya?
Boogaloo dudes - Stand up!
Carry the news - Ha ha ha!
All the young dudes - I wanna hear you!
Carry The News - I wanna see you!
Boogaloo dudes - I wanna relate to you!
Carry the news
All the young dudes - What news?
Carry The News - Let's hear the news! Come on!
Boogaloo dudes - I wanna kick you!
Carry the news
Hey! You there!
All the young dudes - With the glasses!
Carry The News - I want you!
Boogaloo dudes - I want you at the front!
Carry the news - Now!
All the young dudes - Are you all his friends?
Carry The News - Now you bring him down! 'Cause I want him! Ha ha!
Boogaloo dudes - I want him right here! Bring him! Go on!
Carry the news - Bring him! Ha ha! There you go!
All the young dudes - I've wanted to do this for years!
Carry The News - Ha ha ha! There you go!
Boogaloo dudes - Have him! See ya!

All The Young Dudes

A song (early seventies - The Golden Age Of Rock'n'Roll) which David Bowie wrote for Mott The Hoople, released on CBS, (they were with Island, with crazy svengali Guy Stevens) reaching three in the UK chart, lyrics twisted away into an anagram. 'Dudes' was a tune which famously saved Mott, who were:
In trademark shades, curly-headed Ian Hunter (vocals/keyboards/guitar), Mick Ralphs (lead guitar), the silver-haired, stack-heeled dandy Pete Overend Watts (bass), Dale Griffin, a.k.a. 'Buffin' (drums) and Verden 'Phally' Allen (organ).
Out of sorts, Ralphs was soon away, Free to form Bad Company (ie: "Can't Get Enough", "Feel Like Making Love", etc.). He was duly replaced by (ahem!) 'Ariel Bender' a.k.a. Luther Grosvenor, Allen by Morgan Fisher, then Bender again by Mick Ronson. This incarnation didn't last a week, so Hunter and Ronson joined forces as a duo, (ie: 'Hunter-Ronson' oddly enough!) leaving the remaining guys way, way down (but not, as such, out) as just 'Mott', then 'British Lions', without much success.
Yet tragically, the hugely-talented Ronson, he died of cancer three years after releasing the "Yui Orta" album. (Hey, such a bloody waste! Why oh why, oh why, oh why?).
Anyway, what of Dale Griffin? - As you ask, he was a session producer with Radio One.
How's old Wattsy now? - Yeah, Wattsy's now quite at home, I would guess, as a Hereford antique dealer, and such a keen fisherman, too.
But where's Ian "Ullo!" Hunter, head dude, the Artful Dodger? 'A ruin, then?' (See! Another anagram!). No, you see, even now, our way, way-out new sexagenarian (Ouch! Tee hee hee!) is out each week, on "Saturday Gigs" (yes, while in the bloody shades, no doubt!) up and down like a yo-yo, usually on the edge, wowing the audience, singing anew many a golden oldie gem such as "Once Bitten Twice Shy", "Waterlow" and "Bastard". Yeah, why not? Why, he's "One Of The Boys", you see! Hey Ian! You wouldn't throw in the towel yet, would you? Hey, may the music go on, eh? Oh, how we owe you one, dude!

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