LYRIC: The autumn leaves were falling, And a chill was in the air The great pumpkin had left the patch, That he’d found most sincere. Now children all across the world start waiting for the day A jolly man bedecked in red, Would set out on his sleigh But long before that happens, there is so much work to do To keep the season living in the hearts of me and you (and its) Done by just one special guy of whom it has been said, If he didn’t do the things he does, then Christmas would be dead. ————————— (Chorus) Mr Jones the advertising man In his Teflon coated trousers Of a pinstripe suit of grey Sells us what no other ad man can Works flat out from mid-october Doesn’t rest til Christmas day When we’ve grown tired of Christmas And forgotten what it means He’ll remind us on our television screens. ————————- Now ‘Holiday’s are coming!’ as the folk at ‘Coke’ would tell us. Their Christmas corporate presence makes poor pepsico get jealous. Their vision of dear Santa with his beard and snow-white curls, Is accepted universally, it’s known throughout the world But who’s ultimate make-over is the image that we’ve seen? Who dressed the old guy all in red and dumped the verdant green? Who put old Santa on the map, with maximum allurement? In this primary commercial period of gift procurement? ————————— (Chorus) ————————— So when the true meaning of Christmas doesn’t seem to make much sense Keep faith in him, remembering, it’s dollars and it’s cents! Get on your knees and thank him, lift your voices proud and stronger And watch with tears of joy as children’s Christmas lists get longer! Sit back, relax and prove your love for everyone to see And show the world how much you care by using Q-V-C ! We need our dear old Mr Jones to walk us through the season If not for him, we’d be buying, these presents for no reason!!! ———————————- (Chorus x 2 to end) ———————————- (additional (unrecorded) verse… Who made us buy our ipods and who plugged Nintendo’s Wii The great XBOX 360 and the blue-ray’d P-S-3 If the focus groups at Jones’ had not got their thinking caps on We’d never heard the festive cries of “Mommee, I want THAT one!” But if you think the cries of joy and happiness feel phoney He’ll pull on you a 52 inch plasma screen from Sony When the day moves on to 26th, you’re all done-in from buyin’ He can’t rest upon his laurels, Easter’s now on his horizons!)

Turn on your smile, show your laughter as a light Cos you know the mood within really makes you feel like Shining out a beacon to the broken, calls them all into your sight And you can do what makes you feel happy Take time to turn to the things that terminate All the thoughts of negativity that leave you in a state Of overwhelming deep depression, turn your back and walk away And you can do what makes you feel happy (And You can) do it if you’re rich And you can do it if you’re poor Do it time and time again until you’re feeling sore And even though you do it constantly You wanna do it more When you do what makes you feel happy (And You can) do it at the aerodrome Or up against a door Do it at the Megamall or on your parent’s floor And even though you do it constantly You wanna do it more When you do what makes you feel happy (so when the) Urges within you start messing with your brain And you know if you don’t do it then you might just go insane Take the risk and damn the consequence there’s no need to explain Why you’re doing what makes you feel happy (and you can) Do it at the Mickey Dee’s Or do it in the park Depending who you do it with, It’s better after dark And if you do it on some wet cement You’re bound to leave your mark While you’re doing what makes you feel happy. (and you can) Do it in the underpass Or in the rising tide If it’s not the first of may Then you don’t need to go outside But if you want, and if you can, And if you do, you can’t deny That you are doing what makes you feel happy (That. You. Are.) doing what makes you feel happy (That. You. Are.) doing what makes you feel happy .... now then.... Those *fade out words*… (NOTE, this is EXACTLY what is recorded, nothing is left out or edited!) Do it in a bed and you can do it in a bath Do it for the love of it or do it for a laugh You can do it in a train or you can do in the trees Do it when a mile high or down upon your knees Do it with the TV on or do it on the grass If you’re feeling real adventurous then do it in the.

I wish I could tell you,(x3) I love you. (repeat) I wish I could tell you I love you, (x3) but I know you know I can't. I wish I could tell you I love you, (x3) but I know you know I do. I do... (x5))

The blonde drove her car to the run-down motel, Unwittingly stepped into her private hell, She could deal with the son, but not mother as well, But it all makes sense at the end. It started with monkeys, then went to the moon, Then a murd’rous computer made the crew met their doom. But how did that great big monolith Get in that nice white room? But it all makes sense at the end. (chorus) The twists and the turns and the holes in the plot, They still keep us seated at our movie spot, With our coke and our popcorn, while thinking, “Now What!?” But it all makes sense at the end. Now Skywalker fin’lly had run out of luck, He’d been Bitch-Slapped at Bespin, his hand was cut off, But Darth Vader’s his Father? Well… how does THAT work? Yet it all makes sense at the end. Now who would think, the greatest trick, the Devil ever pulled, Was make us think he don’t exist? We certainly were fooled! But surely Keyzer Soze’s six feet nine in stocking soles? But it all makes sense at the end! (chorus) We try to interpret, But always in vain, What are the Twelve Monkeys? Was Ming really slain? The questions abound, But like Citizen Kane, It all makes sense at the end. Even Pi… With that Math Genius guy, Had a surfeit of logic You could not deny. But not Donnie Darko, We tried and we tried…. But that made NO sense at the end… … or the beginning… … or the middle… … it was still good though… So Rorchach’s in prison, the comedian’s dead, A latex Silk Spectre turned Night Owl’s head. And even Doc Manhattan went where Adrian led, But it all makes sense at the end. And life’s like a movie, tho’ sometimes you’re bored, And most would end up on the cutting room floor. But we keep going forward, And pray to the Lord… That it all makes sense at the end. It all makes sense at the end… Will it all make sense at the end? It all makes sense at the end… and it all make sense at the end! It all makes sense at the end…

A dark, sullen silence sat over the web. A dismal place, where the best links lay dead. Terrabyte blogs that bred interest in none. League tables for sports no-one cared who had won and pages of boredom that blocked out the sun, 'til out of the darkness he came. Web Warrior Plume was his name. And he said "I bring: Coulton and Hodgman and Storm and his Paul. With Widgett, Neil Innes, Tim Minchin and all. The mighty Doc Hammer and all of his crew and the intricacies of Song Fu..." ... the only thing missing was 'you'! A cable of bright fibre optics he rode. Into the arena of twitter he strode. Quickstopentertainment he soon made his home, the edge of his wit cut his foes to the bone, if you've no lag on Skype you can give him a phone And talk to this legend 'mongst men. The warrior that they call Ken. And he brought us: Coulton and Hodgman and Storm and his Paul. With Widgett, Neil Innes, Tim Minchin and all. The mighty Doc Hammer and all of his crew and Snydecasts that hold you like glue as he brings all these glories to you. His mighty right hand he would thrust deep inside a puppet or two and we'd laugh til we cried, as they mimed to the songs of some old broadway show, or 'They Might Be Giants', "Birdhouse in your soul", as Ken sitting motionless gamely would sport an array of odd hats on his head. Living proof vaudeville isn't dead. A backdrop of wonders his webcasts would show. Back and forth on streaming websites he would go. Dvd discs in a shining array, toys that might just be worth money someday and many an instrument that he can't play. The man with the world in his room. All hail the Web Warrior Plume! And he brought us: Red Nose Web Marathons lasting all day, to tunes of the 80's he would make us sway... THIS LINE HAS BEEN REMOVED UNDER THE PATRIOT ACT ...now world dominations the goal. For the man with the web in his soul. And he brought us: Coulton and Hodgman and Storm and his Paul. With Widgett, Neil Innes, Tim Minchin and all. Shiny bright helmets as modelled by Thor. Head mounted lamps that make all our eyes sore. Gauntlets of steel sporting sharp fingernails. An audience online not exclusively male. Bad guitar playing and piano horns. Out of key songs, absolutely no porn. JoeCovenant, Molly, Rusty's Jamboree. Songs about Happiness, Songs about pee. Hank, The Masked Stranger, Jeff MacDougal too. Bryce, Heather Henderson bringing the Fu. I've tld you enough. Now you know what to do! UncaScroogeMcD's waiting for you. The legend who's known as Ken Plume...

Widge has gone for a pee. Widge has gone for a pee. I hope he won't pee too long! I hope he gets back by the end of this song! Don't leave Ken all alone. Don't leave the Plume Man all alone. Why must we wait for the pee break? Widge, move along and drain that snake! The Pee Break's got to end. Or we'll go round the bend. I'm telling you again, the Pee Break's got to end. Never thought I'd be sitting here. Gotta say this feeling's queer. Waiting while Widgett Wees... Don't make much sense to me! The Pee Break's got to end. Or we'll go round the bend. I'm telling you again, the Pee Break's got to end! ... it's got to end...

Widge has gone for a pee. Widge has gone for a pee. I hope he won't pee too long! I hope he gets back by the end of this song! Don't leave Ken all alone. Don't leave the Plume Man all alone. Why must we wait for the pee break? Widge, move along and drain that snake! The Pee Breaks got to end. Or we'll go round the bend. I'm telling you again, the Pee Break's got to end. Never thought I'd be sitting here. Gotta say this feeling's queer. Waiting while Widgett Wees... Don't make much sense to me! The Pee Breaks got to end. Or we'll go round the bend. I'm telling you again, the Pee Break's got to end! ... it's got to end...

Old Tom Furby was a very special man Of the Seven Hundred Molemen he’s the only one who can Take a sword, a bag and knotted string and make a cunning plan And go into the woods to kill the Fur---bies Chorus Kill them all! Kill them all! And banish them forever They are deadly they are evil They are hairy and they never Seem to pay for all their wickedness And that is his endeavour He’s going to torture maim and kill the furbies They creep around the woods at night And look for folks to hug And telling mole men “I Wuv Oo!” And other things that bug! They know no shame and cannot sing It doesn’t stop them trying So hurry dear old Tom and kill the furrr---bies (CHORUS) So if you see old Tom around the place Then stop and say hello And if he’s feeling sociable, then with him you can go Then fur will fly and blood will spill As carving them up – oh- All the fun you’re going to have when killing furrrr—bies (sing twice) Kill them all! Kill them all! And banish them forever They are deadly they are evil They are hairy and they never Seem to pay for all their wickedness And that is our endeavour We’re going to torture maim and kill the furbies (last line x3 to end.)

‘2’ So go on- Go on and leave me, because I know, you know, I know I can do better without you, and I'm glad that we are through, because you broke my heart in two again, and all the time I spent on you, I want it back, and my money too, and now all I have to do, is take one from one and make two. Remember when our one plus one made one? And we multiplied until the morning sun. But then you handed me my ass at HALO and made me wanna cry. You smacked me back down to number two, I would've rather caught you messing round with some other guy. So go on- Go on and leave me, because I know, you know, I know I can do better without you, and I'm glad that we are through, because you broke my heart in two again, and all the things I gave to you, I want them back, and my sweater too, and now all I have to do, is take one from one and make two. I remember the night at dragon con, when you made me feel like I was number one. But then you had to let me meet your sister and she blew me...... ....away I didn't know that she would run and tell you too, I dunno why it is you can't trust anybody today! So go on- Go on and leave me, because I know, you know, I know I can do better without you, and I'm glad that we are through, because you broke my heart in two again, and all the things I've given you, I want them back, and my Blankie too. And now all I need to do, is take one from one, take one from one, take one from one, and make two.

Ghoul Tide The snow was falling silently upon a winter’s day, and settled on the clothes of those who shuffled on their way. The sky above was powder blue and streaked with silver glow. It matched the colour of their skin as cold and white as snow. Snow falls down, watching the snow fall down. Settling all around, the snow falls down. Snow falls down, watching the snow fall down. Covering all the town, the snow comes down. The shambled on a-murmuring, as slowly they were drawn, toward a host of carollers a-singing festive song. They caught one glance, then caught their breath, and suddenly were caught. Their song, and then some teeth and hands, a-sticking in their throats. They tore their flesh and broke their bones and munched upon their eyes. They ripped the muscle from their chests and feasted on their thighs. The ones whose brains were not consumed got up and joined the show, their entrails dragging after them and colouring the snow (…falls down…) Now if your friend is bitten you must shoot them in the head. Or they’ll get sick and die and then become the living dead. And nothing will be on their mind, except striking the blow to bash your brains out of your skull, and eat them while the snow (…falls down…)

Give a bit of yourself to the world, open out for the people, your heart and your mind. Share your own past adventures and tales you’ve been told. But you’ll see it’s for nothing and soon you will find. That no-one will hear what you say and the rest of the people don’t care anyway. If you cut to the point, what I’m trying to say is that life is hard… then you die. Take your emotions and lock then away. Keep the love in you hidden don’t open the door. Put your memories behind you, don’t do as they say. As you crawl through the days, with your heart on the floor. (And no-one…) There are times when I wonder if I should go on, would they care if the world went along without me? All my life, all my words all my music and songs, is there something else that I can't see? Remember, please listen to me, for the people around you don’t know that you’re there. There’s no room for ambition, or all you could be, when you’re trapped in a city, that just doesn’t care. (There’s no-one…)

You fin'lly made the call The one I didn't want to hear at all, That you decided realised that you could get along without me. You tore my heart in two shattered all the faith I had in you broke my mind my eyes were blind I had to go outside... In the rain... Let the rain fall on me, hide my tears in the rain... Throw the sadness from me, drown my fears in the rain. So what can I do now? I know I gotta get along somehow. I'm tired of Staring at the Moon and never knowing quite what to say. I see Today's the Day, for Happiness as You Throw Me Away and though it's plain Mistakes Were Made my guilt is washed away... In the rain... Let the rain fall on me, hide my tears in the rain... Throw the sadness from me, drown my fears in the rain. From the sky above me bring my peace... ... in the rain. I know I must move on, I gotta find a way to get along but 'till I do I'll dream of you and have to live my life... In the rain... Let the rain fall on me, hide my tears in the rain... Throw the sadness from me, drown my fears in the rain. From the sky above me bring my peace... ... in the rain. (repeat to fade)

He began idly flipping through the channels, adverts, daytime chat shows, adverts, adverts, shopping channel… (bold italic) Hang on… was that… He moved back one channel. (bold italic) …it is… that’s Charlotte Street! Local television news reporter, and sometime radio presenter, Julia Sharred was talking directly to the camera, hair whipping across her face, her dark, slim figure, standing across from a familiar row of houses. (bold italic) What the hell is this? He punched the volume control and her sultry voice jumped from the set. (italic) “…dents were shocked this morning to find that their quiet street had been the scene of a savage murder. The victim, who has not as yet been named, was found lying against the wall of his home. A police spokesman said that this was being treated as a suspicious death, and they are appealing for witnesses. Few details are being released at the moment, but it is believed that the victim's remains had been disturbed by a dog as some parts of the body were missing. (italic) I spoke to one of the local residents, Zoe Fells:" (italic) "Oh, yes, we’re all a little bit shocked. Nothing like this has ever happened here before, it’s very worrying…" Mitchell stared at the television where a young mother was describing how bad it was that someone had been murdered not twenty feet from her own home. However, the attractive young female was not what held his attention. Behind her, panning away as her voice continued Mitchell saw familiar landmarks, he knew these streets, this place wasn’t too far from where Mackintosh lived…. He dropped the mug in his hand, it bounced from the table, hot tea flew everywhere, he barely noticed. (bold italic) I tore his face off. He shook his head. Where had that come from? (bold italic) What the hell am I thinki… But then the images flew at him, claws and blood; sharp teeth ripping into the body of a man who could not scream because his face was already gone. Tearing and rending. A woman. The woods, a burning on his chest. Mackintosh’s bathroom. (bold italic) That’s what I dreamed about. How could I dream about that? The camera had moved from the young blonde and had returned to Sharred who was emoting the usual requests for any information, Mitchell wasn’t listening, even the sight of the, usually arousing, local celebrity was dulled in his mind. (bold italic) It can’t be Mackintosh… could it? But for some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he knew, not only that it could, but that it was.