Quelques fonctions sont désactivées dans le mute-mode pour s'assurer de ne pas accidentellement sauvegarder, télécharger ou commenter sur une piste différente de celle que vous entendez. Vous pouvez soit désengager le mute-mode pour télécharger ou inter-agir avec la piste affichée, ou bien vous déplacer vers la piste actuellement en lecture avec le bouton vert ALLER.
Maybe the last time you heard a calypso song was Mike Read getting the whole thing wrong By being racist and lacking respect at the UKIP conference What did you expect?
I like the celebratory tradition And its hypnotic rhythmic tedium Although most Calypsonians appear to be Members of the artistocracy
You had Lord Protector and Lord Invader Lord Beginner and Lord Kitchener The Black Prince and Atilla the Hun King Eric Gibson was another one
The girls were fewer, and of modest mind Like Singing Sandra and Alison Hind But if my Youtube song gets lots of hits You can call me Lord Sugar-t*ts
I learned just one fact from my Dad There are no Hurricanes in Trinidad And Calypso further appeals to me
I don’t have to write a tune you see
So it’s a musical expediency which supports a topical immediacy As I sing a social documentary about the forthcoming Fight of the Century
Not Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao Those Corporate boys can have really blown it now The girls have knocked them off their perch, look! It’s Katie Hopkins versus Charlotte Church
In the blue corner..... When Pauline Cafferkey was flown by air to a London hospital’s intensive care, Having risked her life to help save others, her father, sisters and her mother, Unsure if Pauline would survive the week, had to read Hopkin's offensive tweets About sweaty sock ebola bombs. Don’t thinks she's apologized or said she’s wrong. Katie Hopkins, evil incarnate, from somewhere soft, like Brompton or Barnet, Says children named after places are socially inferior, But the stupid b*tch named her own child India.
In the red corner Voice of an angel, fists like iron, a Mighty Sparrow or a Roaring Lion She can bench press 200 pounds and easily last the 15 rounds. For though she's no longer married to him, she's still got possession of Gavin's gym. She sang for Presidents and the Queen, the Pope and Simon Cowell’s team. One day she'll be my Emmylou, at least that's my recurring dream. Ting ting Round 1 Charlotte lands some stinging blows on pasty face and breaks her nose. Blood pours down on Katie’s shirt, it looks like she is really hurt Round 2 A quick, but brutal, combination of punches finds their destination Katie slumps down to her knees and whimpers "please don’t hit me please" Round 3 The referee could show compassion, stop this one sided, senseless thrashing But the crowd is calling out for more Hopkins blood on the canvas floor Round 24 Katie’s head is punched clean off her shoulders and rolls off the canvas like a crimson boulder A crow swoops down, pecks out her eye, but spits it out before he flies It’s not that it’s heavy, that's not it, Hopkin's eye just tastes like shit Oh, 100 grand is the winner’s purse, and Hopkin's dead, so it could be worse But nothing gives Charlotte greater pleasure than sitting next to Cerys as a National Treasure
Voice of an angel, fists like iron, a Mighty Sparrow or a Roaring Lion Nothing gives Charlotte greater pleasure than sitting next to Cerys as a National Treasure
I apologise that this is a very UK-centric song. Two of our minor celebrities are going to have a charity boxing match. It's a good, old-fashioned battle between good and evil and, as such, I thought it deserved its own calypso song.