The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 9
Eating The Zoo

[NOTES: When Noel finished this song I said to him "Didn't realise you were going to sing that high", to which his eloquent reply was "Neither did I..."]

Do you serve bustard
With mustard, or custard?
And what about leopard,
Is it salted or peppered?

Should I boil or should I bake
This diamondback rattlesnake?
Really what on earth should I do
When faced with carving a gnu?
I'm eating the zoo.

Sauce for the goose isn't
Sauce for the gander
What sort of a sauce should I
Serve with a panda?

I should take heart from a bishop that I know
Serves Worcestershire Sauce with his rhino
Even he was stumped with a kudo
Ended up making some kind of ragu
Eating the zoo

I've heard of a man who put
Snails with porridge
So should I try mixing
Frosties with ostrich?

Bugger this, I'll fetch a pot
And boil the bloody lot
My guests will just have to make do
With an endangered stew
I'm eating the zoo

Oooh, I'm eating the zoo
I'm eating the zoo
I'm eating the zoo
 

Lyrics by Noel Liemann
Music by: Noel
Main vocals: Noel
Guitar: Noel
Backing vocals: Elizabeth

Paradise Lawn

Eating The Zoo

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 8
The South Molton Skinner

[NOTES: This is a song about Fwed being an awful judge of character and letting all and sundry dwell under her roof because she took pity on them, despite the huge red flags they carried. I hasten to add, no one was skinned or murdered during the making of this song (as far as I know)]


I am the South Molton Skinner, won't you join me for my dinner?
There's plenty of room, just come inside - and if you're lucky I'll do the same

I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too

There's an empty space in this wonky place, room to let to a smiling face
An ad in the paper, a card in Spar, apply if your history is truly bizarre, truly bizarre 
It's a wee bit crooked and a little bit old, and the guest list is completely uncontrolled
But if you like cricket at half past four, you really couldn't wish for more, wish for more 

Every murderer, paedo and burglar, bastard and arsehole and shit
They got a clean slate, a new friend, a new mate, a choice to relapse or to quit
And when she is out they totter about in her knickers, her socks and her drawers
And when she is in, they covet her skin and crawl around on all fours

Oh, lodger required, oh, housemate desired
Oh, lodger required, bring your own knife and your gun
Oh, lodger required, oh, to plot and conspire
Oh, lodger required, bring your own hamburger bun

I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too

Unpack your bags, make yourself at home - arrange your room, make it all your own
If you wash up then I will cook, and help yourself to any old book, any book 
I have this crossword I want to do, but I really don't have a clue about you
Put the kettle on, let's have a cup of tea. I'll pretend I don't feel you staring at me, staring at me 

Polite, sweet and kind, but what goes on behind those innocent puppy dog eyes?
Dreams of division and perfect incisions, everything just the right size
Unhealthy obsessions, psychotic confessions, strange items under the bed
Newspaper clippings, devices for gripping, blankets and pillows in red

Has a fixation with cauterisation, a collection of razor-sharp blades
Knows it for sure, it was written before, this is how legends are made
Inspired by demons and Franz-Josef Liemann, needs to consume to create
But when it's revealed what it is that's concealed, the choice has been locked on her fate

Oh, lodger required, oh, housemate desired
Oh, lodger required, bring your own knife and your gun
Oh, lodger required, oh, to plot and conspire
Oh, lodger required, bring your own manburger bun

I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
I know where you live, cos I live there too
 


Lyrics by Bob Warren, Edmund Simons, Fred Ley, Emily Edwards and Geoff
Music by: Bob
Vocals: Ed, Fred, Noel, Bob
Guitars & bass: Bob, Noel

The South Molton Skinner

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 7
No Cobra

[NOTES: This is my personal a capella tribute to Justin Rees (aka Cobra Codpiece), founder and lead singer of The Blend Band; masterful songwriter/composer/arranger/persuader and genius musical joker. RIP, you bald twat. The song references will mean nothing to people who haven't experienced his amazing body of work, but they hopefully they mean a lot to those of us that do]

There's no adventure in the cheesecake
There's no adventure in the cheesecake
There's no adventure in the cheesecake
Cos there's no Cobra talking to the wall

There's no lemon in the bucket
There's no lemon in the bucket
Oh noooo there's no lemon in the bucket
Cos there's no Cobra talking to the wall

There's no devil on the dancefloor
Oh no no there's no devil on the dancefloor
No no there's no devil on the dancefloor
Cos there's no Cobra talking to the wall

There's no gibbon on the rooftop
Oh no no there's no gibbon on the rooftop
No no there's no gibbon on the rooftop
Cos there's no Cobra talking to the wall

Lyrics by: Bob
Music by: Bob
Vocals: Bob

No Cobra

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 6
The Devil and Miss Ley

[NOTES: Despite her feigned naivety, even Satan and his minions are scared of Fred]

The Devil was throwing a party but he only had eleven guests
He wanted thirteen to dinner, so sent Beelzebub on a quest
Beelzebub, bring me a soul, drag it down to Hell by dawn!
Where shall I look, o Master? Well, you could always try Paradise Lawn...

Be gone from here! Shake the world with fear! But first clean your ears!
And hear these words, hark what I say, you'd better not be late or there'll be Hell to pay, now go!

So he drove on over the link road as the rain came howling down
Missed the turning on the roundabout and was late getting into town
Still he found Paradise, it wasn't hard, followed the scent of sin
At least that's what he thought it was, but it could have been the bin
So he combed his hair, and he tied his tie, and he tried to look real cool
But it didn't last long and it went all wrong when he slipped and fell off his stool

"Shit!" He screamed, hoped no-one had seen - it wasn't meant to be
Cos just then Fred wandered in and Beelzebub thought the questions could begin

"So, tell me how you've sinned. Hmmm, really? Then what? With who?
Wait a minute.... how many times?
Uh, no... no, that's strange. But I think my master's going to like that - but not that.
That's... that's wrong... that's so wrong... yeah. Hmmm? 
It's just that I didn't know something could be so wrong it was too wrong for him. 
Oh God.
What? Again? But you said a few moments... uh... ok, I'll note that down
And then... ok, no, no, thank you... this is..... 
Beautiful, um..."

Satan help me please, keep me from this freak, I'll never last the week
For God's sake get me out of here, oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear!

Satan depraved you are, evil Lord of Dark - this bitch is so bizarre
For God's sake get me back by dawn, I wish I never knew about Paradise Lawn
She's too bad to be devil's spawn.. shit, she's here, all hope is gone

Come back here you naughty boy, now you're gonna be my toy!

 

Lyrics by Noel Liemann and Edmund Simons
Music by: Noel
Main vocals: Noel, Ed, Fred
Guitars & bass: Noel
Drums: Bob

The Devil And Miss Ley

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 5 
Mike And Dave

[NOTES: I have no idea what the lyrics are, besides the fact that they are about two pretty cool guys called Mike and Dave]


Lyrics by: Ed, Noel, Teddy
Music by: Noel
Main vocals: Ed, Noel
Guitar: Noel
Backing vocals: Teddy

Mike And Dave

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 4
The Exmoor Waltz

[NOTES: Thank you Ed for creating the lyrics, they are perfect and it was a pleasure to sing about being a serial killer]

Time I was a jolly young man
A lovely young fellow, a jolly young man
But to be this jolly young man
I had to live out a lie

Had to pretend t’was lovely all day
Pretend I was happy and gay
Wake up each morning, put on my straw hat
And skip out o'er the hay

What my nearest and dearest did ne’r know
Is I’m a bit of a git
Not just a wild and ruddy young fellow
But a bit of a murderous shit

Oh I was a jolly young man
A lovely young fellow, a jolly young man
But to be this jolly young man
Some other fellows must die

They leaped and ran out o'er the heather
Eyes like terrified stags
My mattock and pickaxe helped hide my mystery 
Careful never to brag

Yes I am a jolly young man
A lovely young fellow, a jolly young man
But to be this jolly young man
Some other fellows must die

Ramblers roasted and buried in peat
Strangers hung up in the copse
Exmoor’s the place to bury a few
Germans, Jews and Jocks

Then I became a little too over keen
Tried to string up the mayor
All of South Molton and half of Veriby
How could I know they would care?

Now I am a jolly old man
A lovely old fellow, a jolly old man
But to be this jolly old man
Some other fellows must die

Yes I am a jolly old man
A lovely old fellow, a jolly old man
But to be this jolly old man
Some other fellows must die

For me to be this jolly old man
Some other fellows must die

Some other fellows must die
Some other fellows must die
Some other fellows must die

 
Lyrics by Edmund Simons
Music by: Bob
Guitars, bass, main vocals: Bob
Backing vocals: Bob, Geoff

The Exmoor Waltz

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 3
Songs of Obscenity

[NOTES: A tribute to Justin Rees/Cobra Codpiece, lead singer and bandmaster of the Blend Band at its peak in Lampeter 87-91 - and beyond. He also masterminded Edmund Estefan and The Mydroilyn Sound Machine, Paul Woodward (The Brummie Poet), and various other projects. Never used vulgar obscenity in the lyrics but implied it with references to mostly fruit and puddings]

Only a heartbeat ago the singer left the room
And we are left with snippets, a memory of a tune
We do our best to ape him, but as all you can see
We are left with little but songs of obscenity

Songs of obscenity
Songs of obscenity
Pour me a glass of your cheapest sherry
And I'll sing songs of obscenity

While we are all waiting here, oh let us take our cue
From stories that we once heard, or read upon the loo
We sing in happy chorus, but I think you will agree
We are left with little but songs of obscenity

Songs of obscenity
Songs of obscenity
Oh pour me a glass of your cheapest sherry
And I'll sing songs of obscenity

So are there no clever lyrics here, allusions to strange foods
We could never manage them, even if we had the mood
We screech in happy chorus, but I think you will agree
That we are left with nothing but songs of obscenity

Songs of obscenity
Songs of obscenity
Oh pour me a glass of your cheapest sherry
And I'll sing songs of obscenity

Only a heartbeat ago the singer left the room
And we are left with snippets, a memory of a tune
We do our best to ape him, but as all you can see
We are left with little but songs of obscenity

Songs of obscenity
Songs of obscenity
Oh pour me a glass of your cheapest sherry
And I'll sing songs of obscenity

Songs of obscenity
Songs of obscenity
Oh pour me a glass of your cheapest sherry
And I'll sing songs of obscenity

 

Lyrics by Edmund Simons & Emily Edwards
Music by: Ed, Em
Main vocals: Em
Backing vocals: Pat, Geoff, Ed, Noel, Bob

Songs Of Obscenity

The Blend Band
Paradise Lawn
Track 2 
Paradise Lawn

[NOTES: This song is primarily about Fred's awful encounters with men, but also about the perverted diversity that exists and is tolerated in pretty much every town across the UK, but seems to be particularly outstanding in South Molton]

Wake up in the morning, the gossip's still to come
Looking out the window at the pissheads and the scum
Who's that fucker down there? It looks like Cokey Joe.
He's off to score and eighth and do it with his ho... hoho, ho ho ho ho

It's 8 o'clock in the morning, and it's time to get my hat
Off to watch the rugby and act just like a twat
The Tivvy Arms is open - oh, Christ, I need a drink
I'm in the clothes I've worn all week and really starting to stink... uh oh, uh ohohoh uh oh

Oh oh, South Molton is my passion
Oh oh, drinking's back in fashion
Oh oh, the landlord of the Tivvy is Paul

The longer that I think of you, the deeper that I ponder you,
The more I am convinced that you're a cunt
Every tiny particle, every single molecule, 
Everything about you is a cunt
And you, just you, yes you, you're the king of the cunts

Thank God I was born on Paradise Lawn

Frankie's cousin Desmond, we call him Bendy Joe
He always wears that long brown mac with a hard-on just below
We caught him shagging his mother, she'd been dead 6 weeks you know
Oh christ, the dirty bastard, he filled up all her holes, her holes, her ho ho ho holes

Mrs Fetish limping, she's spreading STD's
Reverend John with road rage, loves bestiality
The gothic church is beautiful, it's a shame it's falling down
Just like all the knickers in this stupid fucking town, this town

Oh oh, the Coaching Inn for dancing
Oh oh, a condom for romancing
Oh oh, Quince Honey Farm

The longer that I think of you, the deeper that I ponder you,
The more I am convinced that you're a cunt
Every tiny particle, every single molecule, 
Everything about you is a cunt

The longer that I think of you, the deeper that I ponder you,
The more I am convinced that you're a cunt
Every tiny particle, every single molecule, 
Everything about you is a cunt
And you, just you, yes you, you're the king of the cunts


Thank God I was born on Paradise Lawn

 

Lyrics by Edmund Simons, Bob Warren, Fred Ley, Emily Edwards and Geoff
Music by: Bob
Main vocals: Fred
Drums, guitars & bass: Bob
Sax: Geoff
Backing vocals: Bob, Ed, Fred, Geoff, Em

The Blend Band 
Paradise Lawn
Track 1 
Sensible Girl

[NOTES: This is just silly]

I know by the way you clean your house you're a sensible girl
I know by the way you wear your shoes you're a sensible girl
And you teach piano to the children tomorrow
That's just because you're such a sensible girl

I like the way you dust your sheets, sensible girl


 

Lyrics by Edmund Simons, Noel Liemann, Bob Warren and Fred Ley
Music by: Bob
Main vocals: Ed
Guitar: Bob
Backing vocals: Noel, Fred, Em, Geoff

Denvish

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