Lyrics - Upside Down (page 1)

Fat Chick

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

We started out at seven, and met up in the Crown,

a few pints in our local, before a night out on the town,

thought there was no hurry, ‘til they called time in the pub,

A Chinese or a Curry? then finish at the club.

I just woke up with a fat chick, I’m sure she wasn’t there last night,

I had a beer too many, I’m not a pretty sight, 

I don’t know how she got there, I can’t recall her name,

I just woke up with a fat chick, I’ll never be the same.

Now the musics over, no money left to spend,

The D.J. played a slow one, as the night draws to an end,

I remember hearing voices, but didn’t see a face,

I fell out of the taxi, a total waste of space.

Chorus

Monday morning, sober, and no, I cannot lie,

she had my name and number, but never said goodbye,

I saw her with a push-chair, a gibbon by her side,

what a lucky fella, to have a fat chick for a bride.

Chorus

Our most commercial toon, this could have been a huge hit before political correctness prohibited us labelling fatties. "Obese Chick" dosen't have quite the same ring does it?
Try the Karaoke version at, - www.youtube.com/theinsanesociety

Send in the Troops

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

Send in the troops, to start a war,
its your duty, its what you signed up for,
and if you die, we’ll bring you home,
in a wooden box to a heroes welcome.

Send in the troops, to foreign soil,
the main objective, is to get theiroil,
a constant threat, of terrorisation,
we are the slaves to the nation.

Send in the troops, to who knows where?
you’re under orders, of Mr Bush and Blair,
they call the tune, in the name of peace,
who counts the heads of the deceased?

Send in the troops, with a price to pay,
we suffered heavy losses, in the field today,
no war is won, without aggravation,
we are the slaves to the nation.

A subject we all feel very strongly about. Everyone suffers in war except those who take the decision to send our troops to fight, thus enhancing their political stature.

Bastard

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

Daddy was a Nazi, Mummy was a whore,
Daddy was a loser in the second world war,
Mummy went to heaven and as far as I can tell,
Daddy made a reservation for a place in hell.

Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.

Johnny was a poser, had a flashy car,
Johnny liked to think he was a rock n roll star,
speeding through the city was John’s idea of fun,
failed to see the victim of a helpless hit and run.

Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.
B.A.S.T.A.R.D.
Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.

A pensioner was waiting at a bus stop in a queue,
coming home from bingo on the number 22,
didn’t win a penny then it turned from bad to worse,
a mugger took her dignity and made off with her purse.

Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.
B.A.S.T.A.R.D.
Bastard, Bastard, Bastard.

Three short stories about people we all love to hate. A nutter got the wrong end of the stick at a gig we did in Rhyll after hearing the word "Nazi" tried to start a one man riot.Upside Down

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

I caused some aggravation, had a bellyful of ale, 

I’m in a no win situation, I got a mad man on my tail, 

I took a pill to calm me, it went straight to my head,

The effect was devastating, now the big boys want me dead.

Can’t stick around, 

I gotta get outta town,

they’re gonna crucify me,

and hang me upside down.

I drove on through to Brighton, and missed the 259,

someone switched the light on, I ignored a no way sign,

I lost my ugly escort, they didn’t have a clue,

and then I saw a road block, stopped by the men in blue.

Can’t stick around,

I gotta get outta town,

they’re gonna crucify me, 

and hang me upside down.

A short piece of fiction about being on the run, I was determined to localise this song which took less than two hours to write and record.
Paranoia

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

There's a baby screaming in the flat down below,

the team keep losing so the gaffer must go,

same old crap on daytime T.V.

and why is everyone laughing at me?

This paranoia, 

it will annoy ya, 

won't let it get the better of me.

Girlfriend giving me grief everyday, 

people owing but refusing to pay, 

a man in a pub who’s so full of shit, 

loads of chairs but nowhere to sit.

Chorus

Living in a bedsit with nothing to do,

having conversation with a wanker like you, 

Jehovas witness knocking on my door, 

the upper classes who pretend to be poor.

Chorus

Politicians counting on my vote,

pissing down with rain when I ain’t got a coat, 

spent all the money now there’s nothing to eat, 

gotta get out ‘cos I can’t stand the heat.

Chorus

The highlight of our set where we get verbally abused by the audience. Inspired by the first line, I continued to write about things that bug me. I could have gone on for hours.

My personal favourite on the album.
Bin laden

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

In the caves of Afghanistan,

lives an evil tyrant man,

sent his men to suicide, 

innocent victims had to die.

You’re a punk, You’re a punk, You’re a punk, 

Bin Laden. 

You’re a punk, You’re a punk, You’re a punk, 

Bin Laden.

You’ve taken us to all out war,

it’s time to even up the score,

the S.A.S. are gonna get their man, 

and kick the shit out of the Taliban.

You’re a punk, You’re a punk, You’re a punk, 

Bin Laden. 

You’re a punk, You’re a punk, You’re a punk, 

Bin Laden.

Could the worlds most wanted be simply an actor invented by the yanks to gain global support in the campaign against terror? One of our oldest tunes written in the aftermath of Bins finest hour! We released this as a single in 2001 which failed to gain airplay despite Chris Moyles talking about it on his Radio 1 show.

Made in China

Words & Music by Paul D Waghorn

In a far off land of rice and Zen, 

where fifteen pounds buys a load of yen, 

export goods for our intention, 

their guarantee they fail to mention. 

you can’t get a taxi at the bus stop, 

so why save pennies at the pound shop, 

credit cards may get designer, 

everything is made in China.


Cuddly toys or DVD’s 

attractive costs are aimed to please, 

plastic guns with no disclaimer, 

loaded on a huge container. 

Stylish clothes not made to measure, 

something else that you may treasure, 

shipped in on an ocean liner, 

everything is made in China.


This countries debt is getting deeper, 

because Joe Public wants things cheaper, 

there ain’t no business in this town, 

another factory closing down. 

Once we were a wealthy nation, 

found our way to beat inflation, 

kept home grown for nothing finer, 

everything is made in China.

China is quite rightly a major force in the global economy, but what happens in the future? Will they hold us to ransom with their increasing costs? Whatever happened to the "I'm backing Britain" campaign of the 1960's?

Armchair 'Arry

Music by Paul D Waghorn

Words by Waghorn/Hannaford

Armchair ‘arry never goes to games, 

armchair ‘arry knows all the names, 

of every player whose on T.V. 

from Ian Wright to Wayne Rooney. 

Last year 'arry wore white and red, 

but now he’s sporting blue instead, 

armchair 'arry hasn’t got a clue, 

541 or 442

'Arry, Arry,

'Arry, Arry, 

'Arry ain’t got a clue.

Armchair ‘arry found football heaven, 

watching ceefax 337, 

saw no goals so needs much more, 

4.45 on final score. 

Blue or Red, he can’t decide, 

what to wear today with pride, 

armchair ‘arry hasn’t got a clue, 

541 or 442

'Arry, Arry 

'Arry, Arry, 

'Arry ain’t got a clue.

This is about a footie fan who only follows winning teams. Real supporters are born and die for their club.

Click here for part 2