More »
Showing posts with label cricket songs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cricket songs. Show all posts
Prince, Bowie and friends: The superband in the stars
What a year, whatever gigs that will be happening are going to be up there. So here you go, Prince, Bowie & Friends putting on a show, starting with Prince's transit from "planet earth is blue and there's nothing much I can do" to The Great gig in the sky.
Lyrics credits to Prince, Bowie and friends.
Days like this make me feel thankful to have heard Prince, Bowie and friends, and let them toss my world upside down in such a hunky-dory way. Just plan that next gig while we're all on planet earth together. They are showmen, we are watchmen, and nothing can come close to seeing them in the flesh. Which is also a Floyd song. Cue: Look out for Roger Waters' dates of The Wall tour, he may not be touring for long.
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- Prince picked her raspberry beret
- And perched upon a giant extinct bird
- Conjured by his musical powers
- Folded the guitar into his breast pocket
- And said sh-sh-shhh in Bowie's voice
- And someone said, dead ringer
- You don't play games with death, sir
- Give him the electric chair for all his future crimes
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- Prince walked the aisle with his poodle
- His walk became a strut and the poodle a giant extinct mutt
- Conjured by his musical powers
- Folded his girls into his breast pocket
- And said Diamonds and pearls
- And someone said, such deep pockets you have, sir
- And Prince said, it's just you using my imagination te-hehe
- Gotta go, still I keep Vicki waiting
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- On an empty stomach he left
- No wonder he was so size zero skinny
- And he had his shave and the girls did his hair
- And he handed them a smile with animated rosy pink hearts
- And their hearts were fluttering like some extinct Greek goddess' hearts
- God of love and goddess too
- Slipped into something slinky
- There's a little dude on his way
- And he rips a guitar like lightning bolts
- Can you hear him Major Tom, can you hear him, Major Tom
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- And he's encrypted some musical code into my head
- My face is starting to resemble a shade of rouge and red
- I don't wanna rhyme but it's all unfurling in my head
- Would you rather be here or up there dead
- With Prince n Bowie playing the great gig in the sky with that crazy diamond
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- Walking on clouds in shoes lined with velvet
- And the underground is in attendance too
- Lou Reed talks in a song like only he can
- Good night, ladies, good night
- And Robin Williams runs like a mad hatter, and mimics an extinct accent, do you know Lewis Carroll created a character after me, authors these days never ask for Per-mission
- And Bowie trotted the saxophone
- And someone whispered sing Wild as the wind
- And Nina Simone appeared outta nowhere
- Pin on vinyl: Cream, get on top
- And Jack Bruce riddled his bass
- You should have seen the musical orgy
- Everyone cool and dead is here
- Jerry Garcia whispered Blues for Allah
- Can you hear him, Major Tom, can you hear him, Major Tom
- Graceland's residents old and new, floating on a tin can
- Paisley Park is in your heart
- Strawberry fields like you never seen
- John Lennon loathes a late mention but laughs it off with a cockney Jealous Guy
- Because we're all so insecure when we're alive
- Sexy Mofo is gone Sexy Mofo is gone
- Hello Prince, with a name like that, I really expected a turban, laughs an Indian musical God
- And Harrison joins Ravi Shankar on sitars
- As they're sipping their weak herbal teas
- Janis, Jim and Jimi too, pop in at the mention of the H word
- Hendrix and Prince start to jam
- Prince says to Jimi: I was only 12 in '70
- Jimi says to Prince: I was only 27 in '70
- Janis and Jim echo his words
- BB King says, Up here he's 30 years your senior, kids!
- Check in time, Prince to be shown his room, that will be Cloud Nine
- But that's mine says George H
- Sexy Mofo has come Sexy Mofo has come
- Bonham beats the drums, Lord bleats the keys
- "Come as you are" the check-in song starts to play
- Duane Allman swings by on his bike
- That's really a giant extinct slide guitar
- And it's all coming together, right now, over me
- Can you hear me Major Tom, can you hear me, Major Tom?
- Sexy Mofo has gone Sexy Mofo has gone
- Oh right, I gotta finish my memoir, gonna call it The Beautiful Ones, says Prince
- "U make me so confused
- The beautiful ones
- U always seem to lose"
Lyrics credits to Prince, Bowie and friends.
Days like this make me feel thankful to have heard Prince, Bowie and friends, and let them toss my world upside down in such a hunky-dory way. Just plan that next gig while we're all on planet earth together. They are showmen, we are watchmen, and nothing can come close to seeing them in the flesh. Which is also a Floyd song. Cue: Look out for Roger Waters' dates of The Wall tour, he may not be touring for long.
First published here
The Tendu of small things
It
took two cameos for Sachin to capture the World Cup.
Sachin
appeared in a suit and a tie
He was there, a reminder that he wasn't there anymore
Sachin flashed, Sachin didn't flash hard
He painted his portrait and yours too
With a camera phone this time
A chitchat here and a chitchat there
Sachin was gone before long from the cricket
Sachin's never ever gone long from the cricket
a chit chat here and a chit chat there
Sachin was talking TV cricket
I didn't see much of him talking TV cricket
Prefer it when his bat’s the ventriloquist
And it speaks Thonk Tonk Thud Tonk
Some divinespeak that always spoke
Seldom squeaked
Sachin returned to the ICC world cup
For Indians and those that love Indianness
He was the best ambassador on two legs after that ambassador on four wheels
He was there, a reminder that he wasn't there anymore
Sachin flashed, Sachin didn't flash hard
He painted his portrait and yours too
With a camera phone this time
A chitchat here and a chitchat there
Sachin was gone before long from the cricket
Sachin's never ever gone long from the cricket
a chit chat here and a chit chat there
Sachin was talking TV cricket
I didn't see much of him talking TV cricket
Prefer it when his bat’s the ventriloquist
And it speaks Thonk Tonk Thud Tonk
Some divinespeak that always spoke
Seldom squeaked
Sachin returned to the ICC world cup
For Indians and those that love Indianness
He was the best ambassador on two legs after that ambassador on four wheels
Sachin
appeared in a suit and a tie
He was there, a reminder that he wasn't there anymore
A chitchat here and a chitchat there
He was there, a reminder that he wasn't there anymore
A chitchat here and a chitchat there
Before you could say Srini, the finals were lost
Before you could say Srini, the crowds BOOOOOOED
Before you could say Sachin, the crowds OOOOOOOED
Sachin and Srini stood there together
One gave away a trophy,
One was the trophy.
Before AB de Villiers cried, the skies wept.
- O dear Leonard Cohen
- Will you lend your voice and words
- To the loss we're feeling
- Because all we can do now
- Is cry
- Cry, cry, cry
- All we can do is cry
- Cry like we was babies
- Cry like we was lost
- Cry like we don't know when we're going home, AB
- Cry like we don't know when we're going home, baby
- Cry like we just don't know
- Oh, what a game this is
- The very game that makes me live
- Is the very game that makes me die
- The very game that makes me high
- The very game that makes me die
- Oh, what a game this is
- The crying game
- I cried like a Pup
- I cried like a captain
- I cried with AB de Villiers
- I cried with Michael Clarke
- I cried with my heart ripped bare
- I cried for a player I scarcely knew
- His childhood photographs on my bedside table
- And I saw him growing up
- And I saw him going up
- I saw him fall
- I saw us all fall
- I saw that kid from the country
- His farmer ways
- I saw him with Warner
- I saw him on the scoreboard
- Forever not out
- Forever, 63* not out
- I saw Morne long legs run down at the Kotla
- I saw Morne scissor balls back down at third man
- How he made the ball rise on such a passive pitch
- How he made the ball rise on just any pitch
- "How the moon hits your eye
- And the zing bails fly
- That's a Morne"
- I saw Morne as a boy going to school
- The gentle gawky kid that wouldn't hurt a fly
- The gentle gawky kid that wouldn't tell a lie
- Such a good kid, such a straight good kid
- And that kid sits on the banks of Eden Park
- In a pool of tears, in a pool of blood, sweat and years
- Morne Morkel, just sits there and weeps
- All six foot four inches of him just sits there and weeps
- That's a Morne
- "When the moon hits your eye
- Like a big pizza pie, that's amore"
- Oh, what a game this is...
- The very game that makes me live
- Is the very game that makes me die
- The very game that makes me high
- The very game that makes me die
- Oh, what a game this is
- The crying game
- AB was everywhere, every fucking where
- From mid off to mid wicket
- From a midsummer night's dream to a midlife crisis
- AB batted in the 40th, AB bowled in the 40th
- AB aged nine years, he was on to his 40th
- AB says
- I don't know what to do, I am completely at a loss
- AB says
- I don't know, I don't even know when we are going home
- AB says
- I tried my best to catch it, I didn't
- AB says
- As a captain, I'll be there for the guys
- AB says
- But life moves on and the sun will come up tomorrow
- AB says
- AB sobs
- I write to my South African friends
- I ask them the same question
- How are you?
- Antoinette Muller says
- "Oh I'm fine. They did their best."
- Sean Wilson says
- "I'm okay. It's just sport."
- Sean Simpson says
- "I am shattered. Drinking nice wine though."
- Ben Karpinski says
- "Not well mate. Really not well
- But hoping your boys can beat Australia on Thursday. That will help things"
- The very game that makes me live
- Is the very game that makes me die
- The very game that makes me high
- The very game that makes me die
- Oh, what a game this is
- The crying game
- Before AB cried, the skies wept.
Credits, notes, asides:
"That's Amore" - by Dean Martin (lyrics by Brooks, Jack / Warren, Harry).
"That's a Morne" - by Sean Wilson (@SimplySean on twitter).
It's only after writing this that I discovered that Morne Morkel and I share a birthday. We did not go to the same school, however.
For a lark, picture Leonard Cohen singing "Now so long, Morne, it's time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again".
First published in daily O
Dhoni, one day at a time
He wasn’t good or bad
He wasn't happy or sad
He wasn't Mumbai or Delhi
He wasn't Prince or God
He was Dhoni
He just stood back
Back behind the stumps
And waited
And waited
And waited
And waited
And waited
For the days to unravel
Unravel themselves
One day at a time.
He wasn’t black or white
He was grey
He was yellow
He was blue
He was Dhoni
And as he greyed
He grew
Grew like a legend
Upon us
One white hair at a time
One day at a time
And those one days added to five
One day at a time.
One day
A selector asked to drop him
One day
A selector was asked instead
One day
He was unspoken
One day
He spoke in platitudes
One day
He was in court
And those one days added to five
One day at a time.
One day
He was T20 Midas
One day
He was World Cup Slayer
One Day
He was No. 1 of the Five Days
One Day
He lost too many days away
One Day
He was unseen
And those one days added to five
One day at a time.
He was Dhoni
One day
He was Mahendra Singh Dhoni
One day
He was MSD
One day
He was MS
One day
He was Mahi
One day
He was Dhoni.
One day
He stopped ten shy of a Hundred
One day
He stopped shy of a farewell
One day
He stopped shy of a speech
One day
He stopped shy of a Thank You
One day
He stopped it with a phone call
Because those one days never add to five
Not even one day at a time.
He was Dhoni.
India’s One Day Captain who retired from Test Cricket.
Phil Hughes is yours and Phil Hughes is mine
Your heart’s fallen out and your tears have all but made it
to the ground
You can’t make no sense of any of this
This was not supposed to happen on a field of cricket
This was not supposed to happen to one of us
This was not supposed to
Happen
It’s just a game, fuck, it’s just a game
Why is the game fucking us so
My best mate’s a gonner
Fell face flat in front of my eyes
Where are the doctors
When will they bring him back to life?
Fell face flat in front of my eyes
Where are the doctors
When will they bring him back to life?
Fuck, what have I done
It was only 135 kmph, son
Fuck, what have I done
You just bowled the ball, son
It was only 135 kmph, son
Fuck, what have I done
You just bowled the ball, son
Fuck, what have I done
He just missed the ball, son
Fuck, what have I done?
It wasn’t a beamer, it didn’t slip from your hand, you bowled as you did, a hundred thousand times before
Fuck, what have I done?
Don’t crucify yourself, son
Help them help you pull the blame and the pain apart, they’re not one and the same, they’re not one and the shame
He just missed the ball, son
Fuck, what have I done?
It wasn’t a beamer, it didn’t slip from your hand, you bowled as you did, a hundred thousand times before
Fuck, what have I done?
Don’t crucify yourself, son
Help them help you pull the blame and the pain apart, they’re not one and the same, they’re not one and the shame
I know now he’s a country boy from a banana farm and if
cricket didn’t happen he’d still be peeling away
I know his smile better than any cricket smile
It’s etched so deep and etched so young
It’s etched so deep makes you wanna weep
The way he talks with a nervous stutter
I wanna protect him when we go back Live
And the cricket plays out
The way it was s’posed to play out
And I hardly knew him
And I hardly saw him play
Yet in spite of those low scores and no scores against spin
How I loved the way he stretched all over the place
And sort of smothered the spin
And I’ve never said that before except in my mind
And there was this bugger called Dennis Freedman
Who went on and on for the last many months on twitter
How he should play for country
Just look at those scores
And he didn’t stop there
He went on and on
And I feel so sad for him.
But we all feel Dennis’ pain
And it’s not because we thought he should play for country
But because we saw cricket die before our eyes
Because we saw a bit of ourselves die
Put out your bats
Hang out your tears to dry
Hang your heart on the line
Phil Hughes is yours and Phil Hughes is mine.
For Jumbo
He was not what you call a master
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
He was bespectacled, thick rimmed
Young and nerdy engineer type
Averse to any kind of hype
But eager like any beaver you ever saw
Nobody could read him
Nor batsman nor layman
He was the object of our ridicule
He was no less than a molecule
He was the reason we ragged in colleges
Any kid that that refused to fit in
He was the reason for our losses
He was the reason for our defeats
He was the reason we couldn’t fare better
As a nation, as a people, as a team
He was last choice captain
He was last man standing
He was broken in bandage
He was awoken in carnage
He was the very object of our scorn
Aren’t we happy now he’s gone?
He was the very object of our con
Aren't we happy now he's gone?
He was not Sachin, he was just Anil
He was not what you call a master
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
He served in Antigua
He served in Sydney
He served in Delhi
He served in Perth
He served in Bangalore
He just didn’t serve in lore
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
The glasses have long gone
And so the man
Written on November 2, 2008
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
He was bespectacled, thick rimmed
Young and nerdy engineer type
Averse to any kind of hype
But eager like any beaver you ever saw
Nobody could read him
Nor batsman nor layman
He was the object of our ridicule
He was no less than a molecule
He was the reason we ragged in colleges
Any kid that that refused to fit in
He was the reason for our losses
He was the reason for our defeats
He was the reason we couldn’t fare better
As a nation, as a people, as a team
He was last choice captain
He was last man standing
He was broken in bandage
He was awoken in carnage
He was the very object of our scorn
Aren’t we happy now he’s gone?
He was the very object of our con
Aren't we happy now he's gone?
He was not Sachin, he was just Anil
He was not what you call a master
He was not what you call a blaster
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
He served in Antigua
He served in Sydney
He served in Delhi
He served in Perth
He served in Bangalore
He just didn’t serve in lore
He was just a servant
Servant of the game
The glasses have long gone
And so the man
Written on November 2, 2008
A song for Rahul Dravid - You did it all coz you were the wall.
Keeper captain close in slip
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
One down open middle order flip
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Dropped declare resign blip
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Rahul Jammy Dravid Skip
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Shooter target trigger click
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
One day no way go away hick
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
T20 not empty scored plenty tick
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Coach’s boy, very coy, one big kick
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Whipping boy, favourite toy, very, very sick
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Soft spoken, invisible, just another brick
You did it all
Coz you were the wall
Written 16th October, 2008. Also for Jammy: "I'm out of form"
I DON'T WANNA BE THE MAN IN BLUE.
Can't take the stink of Indian cricket anymore -fans, cricketers...sing out in pain - I don't wanna be the man in blue, man in blue se aye boo (stink)
Come, let's ease our pain together. Sing out. Dhanush's new Sachin song. (and my old Sachin song)
Dhanush's new Sachin song
My old Sachin song -
STORM AND SACHIN
There was Jaddu and Azah
There was Waugh and Warnie
There was you and me
There was storm and Sachin
Blowing through our heart
What’s the score? We want an encore!
What’s the score? We want an encore!
There is Punter and Pigeon
There is Veeru and Yuvi
There is you and me
There is storm and Sachin
Blowing through our heart
What’s the score? We want an encore!
What’s the score? We want an encore!
There was dust and drives
There is rain and runs
There was you and me
There is storm and Sachin
Blowing through our heart
What’s the score? We want an encore!
What’s the score? We want an encore!
There was 143 and 141
There is No. 14 and 40
There was you and me
There is storm and Sachin
Blowing through our heart
What’s the score? We want an encore!
What’s the score? We want an encore!
There is storm and Sachin
Blowing through our heart
…Through our world
…Our heart, our world…
Boost booked Dhanush.That leaves us with either Horlicks or Bournvita....
Ballad of the Belligerent Non-Retiree
Oh, I feel a sniggerin’ chuckle comin' up, a guffaw burstin' out
By Sriram Dayanand
who blogs at Boundary Conditions and protects his tweets @sdayanand
Ain't over for me at least darlin’, while you may twist n' shout
Givin’ up ain't so simple asshole, it's been my ass and life
Oh so you think I'll cut my balls off, just coz' the team's in strife?
<chorus >
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
So you think the time is nigh? So it's time for me to blow?
I am your precious national monument baby, I tend to last for life
Just gaze upon my pretty ass, lose thoughts of weildin' that knife
I am primo T-bone steak yo, I be the whipped cream on the top
Relishin’ is all your lazy ass gotto do, yet you moan for me to stop?
<chorus>
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
You think I dunno when to stop? Dunno when I friggin’ gotto go?
This been just a lil' stutter honey, ain't worth a hue and cry
When we play back in our backyard, everyone's ass is bheja-fry
Overseas results are just a wee glitch, our glory be at home
When we nail their butts up sky high, and their mouths begin to foam
<chorus>
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
I can feel them home wins comin’, my badass game begin to flow
Don’t ya know livelihood's a f**kin’ pain? Just makin' it itself a bitch?
Do you even have a job? Have ya ever felt the naggin' itch?
Why dontcha try n' make it big ya loser? Climb up the treacherous hill
Just unclench your rigid ass man, for f**k's sake swallow a chill pill?
<chorus>
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
Just watch me pout n' preen, just watch my golden ass glow
Now, I ain’t prone to abdication you imbecile, I've never been a quitter
I got a constitution of lead, not like your sorry chicken liver
Just coz you ain’t got no patience, ain’t packin a rigid spine
I am gonna fly the coop? So loooong before my time?
<chorus>
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
Just calm the f**k down, try suckin’ on your own big toe
I'm a smooth cat on steroids baby, and this be my life No. 9
Stop pokin’ your nose in my business, and it'll all be spit n' shine
I ain’t scrapin’ at the bottom, I got reserves built in my ass
Just wake me up, hand me my teeth and don't forget my balls of brass
<chorus>
Heidi-heidi-heidi-hi, Heidi-heidi-heidi-ho
Glory be to me, ya sorry a** sucker, just welcome me back to the show
who blogs at Boundary Conditions and protects his tweets @sdayanand
Song for the unsung hero: SAHA!
OK, now he is the sung hero. Saha! More power to cricketers who are players, not stars.Swaaha!
Bajj gaye re - subah ke 5 (devotional song for India's cricket in Australia)
To all those days when both you and the team should have stayed in bed. Oh right, they did.
A cricket geisha.
Are you dead white bloody and cold
With your smile wrinkled wide on the outsides
Then you’re top, on top of your game
You played on a low daily allowance
Your hands cold, in the deepest recesses of your pockets
You were slow, so old, you were so old
But you were there
A cricket geisha
And how you looked, as you went down
It was mesmeric
I nearly stopped to see
What went wrong this time
With your smile wrinkled wide on the outsides
Then you’re top, on top of your game
You played on a low daily allowance
Your hands cold, in the deepest recesses of your pockets
You were slow, so old, you were so old
But you were there
A cricket geisha
And how you looked, as you went down
It was mesmeric
I nearly stopped to see
What went wrong this time
I will tattoo you.
I’m not English, I’m not South African
I’m not remotely funny
Here's my card
My name is Kevin Pietersen,
I’m a professional cricketer
I want to fuck your bowling
I want to fuck your head
I want to hit you straight
I want to hit you pretty
I’m gonna walk past off
I have so much time
I will roll my sleeves
And bully you through on
Nobody will say
If it was a good ball
Or a shit ball
Nobody will see what you bowl
They will just see
What I did
To the ball
I will tattoo you
With my name
I will tattoo you
I will tattoo you
With your shame
I will tattoo you
I will tattoo you
With my game
I will tattoo you.
I’m not remotely funny
Here's my card
My name is Kevin Pietersen,
I’m a professional cricketer
I want to fuck your bowling
I want to fuck your head
I want to hit you straight
I want to hit you pretty
I’m gonna walk past off
I have so much time
I will roll my sleeves
And bully you through on
Nobody will say
If it was a good ball
Or a shit ball
Nobody will see what you bowl
They will just see
What I did
To the ball
I will tattoo you
With my name
I will tattoo you
I will tattoo you
With your shame
I will tattoo you
I will tattoo you
With my game
I will tattoo you.
Chess on Grass II
“I’m gonna wait on
With all my boundary riders
I’m gonna wait on
With all my sweepers
I’m gonna wait on
With that long on in place
But I’m gonna keep
A wide first slip
And I’m gonna keep
A wide gully
And I’m gonna keep
A wide approach
Till your mind
Narrows up
And can only see
What I want it to see”
“I’m gonna wait on
With all my boundless patience
I’m gonna wait on
With all my cut shots
I’m gonna wait on
With all my big hoiks
But I’m gonna keep
A wide eye
And I’m gonna keep
A wide stance
And I’m gonna keep
A wide approach
Till your mind
Narrows up
And can only see
What I want it to see.”
With all my boundary riders
I’m gonna wait on
With all my sweepers
I’m gonna wait on
With that long on in place
But I’m gonna keep
A wide first slip
And I’m gonna keep
A wide gully
And I’m gonna keep
A wide approach
Till your mind
Narrows up
And can only see
What I want it to see”
“I’m gonna wait on
With all my boundless patience
I’m gonna wait on
With all my cut shots
I’m gonna wait on
With all my big hoiks
But I’m gonna keep
A wide eye
And I’m gonna keep
A wide stance
And I’m gonna keep
A wide approach
Till your mind
Narrows up
And can only see
What I want it to see.”
Mohali is calling moi
MO-HA-LI is calling
With the lights wide open
And the nights wide open
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
On the edge of
some desert western town
is the town's pride
MO-HA-LI is calling
On the edge of the fourth day
On the edge of some western town
is the Town's Pride hotel
so close to gate no. 5
that old man can walk right in
be in before the gates are open
and the lights are off
just to stand in the centre
like some old baseball pro
soak it in, soak it in
MO-HA-LI is calling
on the edge of the fourth day
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
you better go boy
you better go boy
Can't take no for an answer
drive in that yellow new mitsubushi lancer
And the road winds around
And the eyes round around
You get a first sighter
on the edge of town
You get a first sighter
On the edge of the fourth day
there is nothing to play for
there is so much to play for
the win already happened
the win never happened
MO-HA-LI MO-HA-LI is calling moi
And i soar above my seat
like a wave from M0-HI-CO
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
(written on victory eve here, when India beat Australia in Mohali, reposted, after we beat them again and booked the Mohali ticket - Mohali is calling most Indians, pity it doesn't seat that many)
With the lights wide open
And the nights wide open
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
On the edge of
some desert western town
is the town's pride
MO-HA-LI is calling
On the edge of the fourth day
On the edge of some western town
is the Town's Pride hotel
so close to gate no. 5
that old man can walk right in
be in before the gates are open
and the lights are off
just to stand in the centre
like some old baseball pro
soak it in, soak it in
MO-HA-LI is calling
on the edge of the fourth day
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
you better go boy
you better go boy
Can't take no for an answer
drive in that yellow new mitsubushi lancer
And the road winds around
And the eyes round around
You get a first sighter
on the edge of town
You get a first sighter
On the edge of the fourth day
there is nothing to play for
there is so much to play for
the win already happened
the win never happened
MO-HA-LI MO-HA-LI is calling moi
And i soar above my seat
like a wave from M0-HI-CO
MO-HA-LI is calling moi
(written on victory eve here, when India beat Australia in Mohali, reposted, after we beat them again and booked the Mohali ticket - Mohali is calling most Indians, pity it doesn't seat that many)
OBAWC (Overgrown bachchas at the World Cup)
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Floating in their kachchas in the world cup
Hanging by the drawstrings
Waiting for the ball to hit
Yanking at the drawstrings
Batting at a call
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Life’s a pitch and then we die
Stolen wicket ooooh we cry
Who’s on next?
Duck or bye
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
It’s never too late for a happy childhood
It’s never too late for Sreesanth to turn good
It’s never too late to touch the willow wood
It’s never too late to do all that you could
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Thank You Sachin, you’re the boss
What the fuck, I like to bowl from a horse
This is now, and what was, was
We’re out to battle and win many wars
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Hang up your chaddis, there’s the Jatman
Who needs a head, when he’s all heart man
All you can hear is the TAN-TA-DAAN
Again, again, and again for the Jatman
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Anhoni ko honi karde
Honi ko anhoni
Ek jagah pe jama ho teeno
Sachin, someone and Dhoni
Sachin, someone and Dhoni
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Bored Cricket Crazy Indians at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Floating in their kachchas in the world cup
Hanging by the drawstrings
Waiting for the ball to hit
Yanking at the drawstrings
Batting at a call
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Life’s a pitch and then we die
Stolen wicket ooooh we cry
Who’s on next?
Duck or bye
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
It’s never too late for a happy childhood
It’s never too late for Sreesanth to turn good
It’s never too late to touch the willow wood
It’s never too late to do all that you could
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Thank You Sachin, you’re the boss
What the fuck, I like to bowl from a horse
This is now, and what was, was
We’re out to battle and win many wars
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Hang up your chaddis, there’s the Jatman
Who needs a head, when he’s all heart man
All you can hear is the TAN-TA-DAAN
Again, again, and again for the Jatman
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Anhoni ko honi karde
Honi ko anhoni
Ek jagah pe jama ho teeno
Sachin, someone and Dhoni
Sachin, someone and Dhoni
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Overgrown bachchas at the world cup
Bored Cricket Crazy Indians at the world cup
By Vandu+NC
Sing it, send it - Sing 'Overgrown bachchas at the World cup' and send it to us - bcciwrites@gmail.com We'll put the raunchy ones up on Bored. Naturally record companies will line up.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
