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Are You Happy With Your Life
A Song I Wrote This Afternoon
Baby, Since You've Been Gone
Bad Tempered Girlfriend
Belly Dancer
Buy One Get One Free
Call My Name
Car Crash
Clean Way Forward
Complete Control
Elvis in my Pocket
Emo Kind of Guy
Fear of Flying
Foolish Lover
I Don't Know Why
I Don't Want to Die
If I Was Your Man
I Was a Teenage Sex Kitten
I Wrote This Song for You
The Day I Won the Lottery
Middle Class
One More Time
Out of the Blue
Power Shower
Science Fiction
Sexy Sydney
Smoke on the Water
Sometimes I Understand You
Sweetest Thing
Tangled Up With You
Taste It
Thinking Out Loud
The More I Sleep
Sexy Sydney

His name is Sydney, Sydney Meats
And he is really quite off beat
The wierdest bloke you'll ever meet
Surprised he's let out on the streets
But his songs are very neat
His bizarre lyrics quite a treat
Surreal tales that are replete
With metaphors that you could eat
But dodgy plots prone to defeat
So full of holes and incomplete
He sometimes fills them in with Pete
But always touching, sometimes sweet
A member of the Folk elite
But recently dead on his feet
A shagged out corpse with fresh crow's feet
A new girlfriend who he mistreats
With a filthy laugh and filthy sheets
And tales of acrobatic feats
From which your mind just must retreat
No he can not claim to be discrete
His name is Sydney, Sydney Meats
And I think Sydney is on heat.

© Johnny Jet 2007

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