Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

Cheer up, Brian. You know what they say.
Some things in life are bad,
They can really make you mad.
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle,
Don't grumble, give a wistle!
And this'll help things turn out for the best...
And...

(the music fades into the song)

...always look on the bright side of life!
(whistle)

Always look on the bright side of life...
If life seems jolly rotten,
There's something you've forgotten!
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing,

When you're feeling in the dumps,
Don't be silly chumps,
Just purse your lips and whistle -- that's the thing!
And... always look on the bright side of life...

(whistle)
Come on!

(other start to join in)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)

For life is quite absurd,
And death's the final word.
You must always face the curtain with a bow!
Forget about your sin -- give the audience a grin,
Enjoy it -- it's the last chance anyhow!

So always look on the bright side of death!
Just before you draw your terminal breath.
Life's a piece of shit,
When you look at it.

Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true,
You'll see it's all a show,
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you!

And always look on the bright side of life...
(whistle)
Always look on the bright side of life
(whistle)

Every sperm is sacred

There are Jews in the world, there are Buddists,
There are Hindus and Mormons and then
There are those that follow Mohammad, but
I've never been one of them.

I'm a Roman Catholic,
And have been since before I was born,
And the one thing they say about Catholics is
They'll take you as soon as you're warm.

You don't have to be a six footer,
You don't have to have a great brain,
You don't have to have any clothes on,
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came, because

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Let the heathen spill theirs,
On the dusty ground,
God shall make them pay for
Each sperm that can't be found.

Every sperm is wanted,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.

Hindu, Taoist, Morman,
Spill theirs just anywhere,
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care.

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.

Every sperm is useful,
Every sperm is fine,
God needs everybody's,
Mine, and mine, and mine.

Let the pagans spill theirs,
O'er mountain, hill and plain.
God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that's spilt in vain.

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is good,
Every sperm is needed,
In your neighborhood.

Every sperm is sacred,
Every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted,
God gets quite irate.

I'm so worried

I'm so worried about what's hapenin' today, in the middle east, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about the fashions today, I don't think they're good for your
feet.
And I'm so worried about the shows on TV that sometimes they want to repeat.

I'm so worried about what's happenin' today, you know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.
I'm so worried about my hair falling out and the state of the world today.
And I'm so worried about bein' so full of doubt about everything, anyway.

I'm so worried about modern technology.
I'm so worried about all the things that they dump in the sea.
I'm so worried about it, worried about it, worried, worried, worried.

I'm so worried about everything that can go wrong.
I'm so worried about whether people like this song.
I'm so worried about this very next verse, it isn't the best that I've got.
And I'm so worried about whether I should go on, or whether I should just stop.

(pause)

I'm worried about whether I ought to have stopped.
And I'm worried about, it's the sort of thing I ought to know.
And I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.

(longer pause)

I'm so worried about whether I should have stopped then.
I'm so worried that I'm driving everyone 'round the bend.
I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.

Sit on my face

Sit on my face and tell me that you love me.
I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too.
I love to hear you oralise
When I'm between your thighs.
You blow me away!

Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you.
I'll sit on your face, and then I'll love you truly.
Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine
If we sit on our faces in all sorts of places and play
Till we're blown away!

Penis Song

Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis?
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy.
It's divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger
To the world's biggest prick.
So, three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas.
Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy, or your cock.
You can wrap it up in ribbons.
You can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public,
Or they will stick you in the dock,
And you won't come back.

Never be rude to an Arab

Never be rude to an Arab,
An Isreali, or Saudi, or Jew.
Never be rude to an Irishman,
No matter what you do.

Never poke fun at a Nigger,
A Spic, or a Wop, or Kraut.
And never poke fun at at...

The Lumberjack Song

I never wanted to do this job in the first place!
I... I wanted to be...

A LUMBERJACK!

(piano vamp)

Leaping from tree to tree! As they float down the mighty rivers of
British Columbia! With my best girl by my side!
The Larch!
The Pine!
The Giant Redwood tree!
The Sequoia!
The Little Whopping Rule Tree!
We'd sing! Sing! Sing!


Oh, I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay,
I sleep all night and I work all day.

CHORUS: He's a lumberjack, and he's okay,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.

I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lava-try.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.

Mounties: He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,
He goes to the lava-try.
On Wednesdays 'e goes shoppin'
And has buttered scones for tea.

CHORUS

I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.

Mounties: He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around.... In bars???????

CHORUS

I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspendies and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie
Just like my dear papa.

Mounties: He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
Suspendies?? and a .... a Bra????
(spoken, raggedly) What's this? Wants to be a *girlie*? Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!

CHORUS

All: He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaaaayyy..... (BONG)

The Galaxy song

Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
And things seem hard or tough,
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft,

And you feel that you've had quite eno-o-o-o-o-ough,

Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And reolving at nine thousand miles an hour.
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
'Round the sun that is the source of all our power.
Now the sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day,
In the outer spiral arm, at fourteen thousand miles an hour,
Of a galaxy we call the Milky Way.

Our galaxy itself contains a hundred million stars;
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side;
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point,
We go 'round every two hundred million years;
And our galaxy itself is one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe.



Our universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
In all of the directions it can whiz;
As fast as it can go, that's the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is.
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth;
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space,
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth!

All Things Dull And Ugly

All things dull and ug-ly,
All creatures, short and squat,
All things rude and na-sty,
The Lord God made the lot.

Each little snake that poisons,
Each little wasp that stings,
He made their prudish venom,
He made their horrid wings.

All things sick and cancerous,
All evil great and small,
All things foul and dangerous,
The Lord God made them all.

Each nasty little hornet,
Each beastly little squid,
Who made the spiky urchin?
Who made the sharks? He did!

All things scant and ulcerous,
All pox both great and small,
Putrid, foul and gangrenous,
The Lord God made them all.

I like chinese

(spoken)
The world today is absolutely cracked.
With nuclear bombs to blow us all sky high.
There's fools and idiots sitting on the trigger.
It's depressing, and it's senseless, and that's why...

(singing)
I like chinese,
I like chinese,
They only come up to you knees,
Yet they're always friendly and they're ready to to please.

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
There's nine hundred million of them in the world today,
You'd better learn to like them, that's what I say.

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
They come from a long way overseas,
But they're cute, and they're cuddly, and they're ready to please.

I like chinese food,
The waiters never are rude,
Think the many things they've done to impress,
There's maoism, taoism, eging and chess.

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
I like their tiny little trees,
Their zen, their ping-pong, their ying and yang-eze.

I like chinese thought,
The wisdom that Confusious taught,
If Darwin is anything to shout about,
The chinese will survive us all without any doubt.

So, I like chinese,
I like chinese,
They only come up to you knees,
Yet they're wise, and they're witty, and they're ready to please

Wo, I chumba run,
Wo, I chumba run,
Wo, I chumba run,
Ne hamma, Ne hamma, Ne hamma chi chen.

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
They're food is guaranteed to please,
A fourteen, a seven, a nine and li-chese

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
I like their tiny little trees,
Their zen, their ping-pong, their yin and yang-eze

I like chinese,
I like chinese,
(fade out....)

Money Song

I've got ninety thousand pounds in my pyjamas,
I've got forty thousand french francs in my fridge.
I've got lost of lovely lire,
Now the Deutschemark's getting dearer,
And my dollar bills would buy the Brooklyn Bridge.
Chorus: There is nothing quite as wonderful as money,
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash.
Some people say it's folly,
But I'd rather have the lolly,
With money you can ma-ake a splash.
Finale: There is nothing quite wonderful as money,
(money,money,money,mon
ey)
There is nothing like a newly minted pound,
(money,money,money,money)
All: Everyone must hanker for the butchness of a banker,
It's accountancy that makes the world go round.
(round,round,round)
You can keep your Marx
ist ways
For it's only just a phase.
For it's money money money makes the world go round.
(money,money,money,money
money,money,money,money
moneeeeeeeeeeeyyyy)

Brian Song

Brian...the babe they called Brian,
Grew...grew, grew and grew,
Grew up to be,
Grew up to be,
A boy called Brian,
A boy called Brian.
He had arms, and legs, and hands, and feet
This boy whose name was Brian,
And he grew, grew, grew and grew,
Grew up to be,
Yes he grew up to be,
A teenager called Brian,
A teenager called Brian.
And his face became spotty
Yes his face became spotty,
And his voice dropped down low,
And things started to grow,
On young Brian and so,
He was certainly no,
No girl named Brian,
Not a girl named Brian.
And he started to shave,
And have one off the wrist,
And want to see girls,
And go out and get pissed
A man called Brian.
This man called Brian.
The man they called Brian.
This man called Brian.

Accountancy Shanty

It's fun to charter an accountant,
And sail the wide accountan-cy.
To find, explore the funds offshore,
And skirt the shoals of bankruptcy.
It can be manly in insurance.
We'll up your premium semi-anually.
It's all tax-deductible,
We're fairly incorruptible.
We're sailing on the wide accountan-cy.

Eric the Half a Bee

Orchestra
Leader:A-one, two, a-one two three four
Leader: Half a bee, philisophically,
Must ipso facto half not be.
But half a bee has got to be
Vis a vis it's entity.
-d'you see?
But can a bee be said to be
Or not to be an entire bee,
When
half the bee is not a bee,
Due to some ancient injury.
-Singing!...
All sing: La di di, one two three,
Eric the Half a Bee.
A B C D E F G,
Eric the Half a Bee.
Leader: Is this wretched demi-bee,
Half asleep upon my knee,
Some freak from a mena
gerie?
All yell: No! It's Eric the Half a Bee.
All sing: Fiddle di dum, fiddle di dee,
Eric the Half a Bee.
Ho ho ho, tee hee hee,
Eric the Half a Bee.
Leader: I love this hive employ-ee-ee,
Bisected accidentally,
One summer's afternoon by me,
I love him carnally.
All sing: He loves him carnally...
Leader: Semi-carnally.
(speaks)
The End.
Voice: Cyril Connolly?
Leader: No, semi-carnally.
Voice: Oh.
All sing: (Quietly)
Cyril Connolly
(Ends with an elaborate whistle)

Finland

Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I want to be,
Pony trekking or camping,
Or just watching TV.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
It's the country for me.
Verse: You're so near to Russia,
So far from Japan.
Quite a long way from Ca
iro,
Lots of miles from Vietnam.
Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I want to be,
Eating breakfast or dinner,
Or snack lunch in the hall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.
Verse: You're so sadly neglected,
And o
ften ignored,
A poor second to Belgium,
When going abroad.
Chorus: Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Repeat: Finland, Finland, Finland.
The country where I quite want to be,
Your mountains so lofty,
Your treetops so tall.
Finland, Finland, Finland,
Finland has it all.

Fade: Finland has it all...

Bruces' Philosophers Song

Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable,
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy begger
Who could think you under the table,
David Hume could out-consume,
Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel.
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as schloshed as Schlegel.
There's nothing Nietzche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist.
Socrates himself was permanently pissed.
John Stuart Mill, of his own free will
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say could stick it away,
Half a crate of whiskey everyday.
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
Hobbes was fond of his dram,
And René DesCartes was a drunken fart
"I drink, therefore I am."
Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed,
A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed.

Knights of the Round Table

We're Knights of the Round Table,
We dance when ere we're able,
We do routines and chorus scenes
With footwork impeccable.
We dine well here in Camelot,
We eat ham and jam and spam a lot.
We're Knights of the Round Table,
Our shows are formidable, But many times, we're given rhymes
That are quite unsingable.
We're Opera mad in Camelot,
We sing from the diaphragma looooooot.
In war we're tough and able,
Quite indefatigable,
Between our quests we sequin vests,
And impersonate Clark Gable.
It's a busy life in Camelot,
I have to push the pram a lot.

Holy Grail Theme Music