Saw this sign on Erskineville Rd today, had to find out more!

NB: I told Nick I was recording, he affirmed that that was fine, as you will hear.

Nick's Opportunity!

Bryan Adams Ballad For A Kevin Costner Film, Ad-libbed.

Melita said we're having Sang Choi Bao tonight. That made me so excited I just wrote this song.

“Sang Choi Bao” (draft 1, 4/10/21)

We’ve got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
We’ve got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)

You get your lettuce leaf, that’s your ‘saung choi’,
Now you wrap it, that’s your ‘baau’
They say they made with pigeons back in Honk Kong
But now it’s chicken, pig, mushroom or cow!
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)

You want some shallots, not necessarily lots
Sesame oil but not on the boil,
Ginger to taste, it’s too expensive to waste, 
Meander out back and pick some coriander  

You've got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
You've got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)

Once it’s in your fist you’ll want to add some chilli
Sriracha kind, but careful don’t get silly.
A splash of soy, or gluten-free tamari -
A by-product of miso, and me-so very hungry, but…

I’ve got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
I’ve got no problems now, Thanks to the sang choi bao
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)
Sang choi bao, wow wow! (X3)

(I'm rather fond of Sang Choi Bao)

Songs

Sang Choi Bao (draft 1)

“(There should be a) Trigger Warning For Xmas (Shitmas
Song)”

There should be a trigger warning for xmas
It’s a very shitty time of year
The tinsel and the gaudy trinkets shit us
Family events even ruin the taste of beer

     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     It shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us.
     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     Shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas.
 
The northern hemisphere’s celebration of winter
Known as Saturnalia to some not all
Was hijacked by the churches to help split us
Into theists sects and cults forever at war

     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     It shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us.
     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     Shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas.

Christmas in Australia’s particularly ridiculous
Middle of summer covering shit in fake snow
People in winter hats eating dead pigs and pissed up
Suicides rise and brain cells hit a new low

     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     It shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us.
     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     Shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas.

     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     It shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us, shits us.
     There should be a trigger warning for xmas
     Shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas, shitmas.

(There should be a) Trigger Warning For Xmas (Shitmas Song)

"Beer Flu"

You got beer flu,
you got the whisky & VB HIV,
You got beer flu,
slowly drying-up inside from too much cheap ‘goon.
Last night you were the world’s greatest dancer,
But now you’re just looking for an answer 
to the rum & coke cancer -
beer flu.

You got beer flu,
you caught yourself a cold from some Toohey’s Old,
You got beer flu,
You had too much sambuca and now you’re not too much of a looker.
A bottle of tequila tried to kill ya,
and now those roadworks in your head 
are confining you to bed,
with beer flu.
Yeah last night you were the world’s greatest dancer,
But now you’re just looking for the answer 
to the rum & coke cancer -
beer flu.

You got beer flu,
You cracked a case of cold Coronas 
and caught the virus,
Beer flu,
Dying of Heineken hepatitis
with complications of Stoli melancholy,
You numbed the pain of life with Pernod,
Now you’re just wishing that you were no more,
Beer flu.

Yeah last night you were the world’s greatest dancer,
But now you’re just looking for an answer 
to the rum & coke cancer - 
beer flu.

Diagnosis beer flu, buddy.

Beer Flu (demo)

"You're The Pope’s Cannolis” 

A library of bald man’s tears was your inheritance
until your whisky priest demanded penitence
the blue stenographer she knew we’d drink up your defence
and beneath his little black dress we’d find a dandy dreaming

Your brine messiah came lit up my turtle thighs
and as my guitar twang brushes Taiwanese skies
Palatine flares flung through grenadine eyes
where no red letters burn they will undress for you


	There’s nothing left to lose / sing Romani on candle flutes
	Pick up that Pekingese / you keep inside your panic boots
	Robespierre in humpback hair / leaves home looking for a root
	I’m not the cat you’ve been expecting - 
	your carnal sins, could fill the Pope’s cannolis 
	Yeah, you’re the Pope’s cannolis (Si, vero)	
	Yeah, you’re the Pope’s cannolis 

A pet of turpentine poured as my paint through you
as velvet terrors flee from every line you drew
and sail down Hell’s canal, serenaded on my uke
until Heaven’s pleather pants are comely crucified

	There’s nothing left to lose / sing Romani on candle flutes
	Pick up that Pekingese / you keep inside your panic boots
	Robespierre in humpback hair / leaves home looking for a root
	I’m not the cat you’ve been expecting - 
	your carnal sins, could fill the Pope’s cannolis 
	Yeah, you’re the Pope’s cannolis (Si, vero)	
	Yeah, you’re the Pope’s cannolis

You're The Pope's Cannolis (demo)

Adapted from the poem "This Be The Verse" by Philip Larkin, with music and additional words by Benito Di Fonzo.

Language Warning (AKA This Be The Verse)

“Dirty Newtown” 


I met my love, by the Townie Hotel
Dreamed a dream, by the Cooper’s Arms
I Kissed my girl, outside Kelly’s On King
Dirty Newtown, dirty Newtown

Clouds are drifting, across the Hub
Sniffer dogs prowling, on their beat
Spring's a girl, from King Street at night
Dirty Newtown, dirty Newtown

I heard a siren, from the Courthouse sing
and a train, on the Inner-West line
I smelt a spliff, on the smoky wind
Dirty Newtown, dirty Newtown

I'm gonna take, my acoustic axe
Shining steel-string, just out of hock
I'll busk for change, till them Krsnas come
Dirty Newtown, dirty Newtown

I met my love, by the Union Hotel
Dreamed a dream, by the Golden Barley
I kissed my girl, outside Kelly’s On King
Dirty Newtown, dirty Newtown

Dirty Newtown

“The Cream of Denials & an Urge to Repent” 

She got a grudge-based salad with a comeback gruel, Of 
itchy knishes and a stir-fried fool, Folded in 
apathetic salmon from Van Diemen’s Land, Grilled at a
Mason’s lodge by your grand-mammy’s clan

She got gelatinous standards on her half-baked attempt at
The cream of denials & an urge to repent

She got L. Ron Hubbard and she’s hanging him to bleed 
Over deep-baked longings in her subconscious need, For
catfish fur-balls in a bored platypus, Over
lysergic gerbils on a bed of cannabis

She got gelatinous standards on her half-baked attempt at
The cream of denials & an urge to repent

Her unreliable narrator’s in a verified sauce
Of sugared Mormons filing for divorce, Of
Sophocles for sucking off Neolithic fishermen
In the 55 ways that a tuna can

She got gelatinous standards on her half-baked attempt at
The cream of denials & an urge to repent

“The Cream of Denials & an Urge to Repent” (demo 1)

So this is a demo of a new song I penned this weekend. I'd love to hear what you think.

Brick Veneer Persephone

These are demos and live recordings. For professional recordings go to https://suburbanbukowskis.bandcamp.com/ or https://www.benitodifonzo.com/

Benito Di Fonzo

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