Spoons, Man


I never learned the oboe, I never got taught clarinet,

Got told there’s no point moping ‘cos life’s lot is what you get.

I had a go at trumpet, nearly punctured my own lung.

The only organ I play with is adequately hung.

I tried to learn the guitar but guess I’m just not made that way;

I sold my soul to Satan, he just put it on eBay.

I felt like an obese lad setting out on a long run,

Or like a dyslexic trying to make sense of The Sun.

I hope I see the day when a fair share of funky tunes

Are being composed specifically to be played on the spoons.


I don’t know what a chord is and notes to me mean money.

If you say ‘paradiddle’ then I’d find it really funny!

Ask about ‘beats per minute’ and I’ll probably check your pulse,

If you mention your ‘wah-wah’ then my gran will be repulsed!

The only basslines I know of are found on tennis courts,

I think you’ll find that mixers go with alcoholic shorts.

A bridge goes over water, a hook will catch you fish.

For us that can’t play music, we’ve only got one wish:

One day we’d like the chance to feature in the likes of Q,

So write some decent songs that we can play on the kazoo!