We’re going to do some cabaret tonight
In a seedy little bar bathed in red light
Gonna do Marlene Dietrich
Singing slightly off key tonight

  We're doing cabaret tonight
1930s Weimar style
A late night out upon the tiles
Going to hang out with Kurt Weill

  We’re doing cabaret tonight
In high heels with a chair and a single spotlight
In the port of Amsterdam
On the beach at Camber Sands

We’ll all be…
Singing Jackie Brel and a bit of Gainsbourg
And Maurice Chevalier and Charles Aznavour
Till four in the morning at least
Till we can’t sing no more and we’ll leave you in peace

  Singing Jackie Brel and Yves Montand
Chanson D’amour rat-a-tat-a-tat
We’ll be singing till we can’t even see
Till the lights go out in gay Paris

Tonight
Reciting poetry with Brecht and Ezra Pound
Down at the Moulin rouge
With Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise

Doing cabaret tonight
We’ll sing our hearts out with Piaf
At the café de Picasso
Or the canteen down at Tescos

Doing cabaret tonight
As we take it up a key
Crooning along with Tony Christie
And Peter Kay and Sweep and Sooty

Doing cabaret tonight
Entertaining all the troops stationed in Bombay
With Don Estelle and Windsor Davies
Yeah, were the boys to entertain ya….. B-O-Y-S

We’ll all be…
Singing Jackie Brel and a bit of Gainsbourg
And Maurice Chevalier and Charles Aznavour
Till four in the morning at least
Till we can’t sing no more and we’ll leave you in peace

  Singing Jackie Brel and Yves Montand
Chanson D’amour rat-a-tat-a-tat
We’ll be singing till we can’t even see
Till the lights go out in gay Paris

Give me more Alan Clayson
Give me Charlie Trenet
Give me Kit and the Widow
And more, so much more, Philip Jeays
Give me more cabaret tonight!

The phoenix, the furnace, the king and the queen, the princess and the man with the water 
the microscope, telescope, centaur and sculptor Red Indian, air pump and altar; 
The scorpion, champion, rhomboidal net, the virgin, the hunter, the hero 
the sextant, the octant, the two hunting-dogs the table the twins and the arrow 
The peacock, the eagle, the crane and the crow, the toucan, the fly and the flagon,  
the crab, the chameleon, little snake, lizard, the sea serpent, swan, dove and dragon; 
The swordfish, the south fish, the big and small bears, the keel, poop and sail of a boat  
the two fish, the flying fish, dolphin and wolf the snake wrestling man and the goat 
The giraffe and the foal and the fox and the clock, the set square, the drover, the driver, 
the chisel, the triangle, unicorn, lynx, the lion, the ram and the river; 
The painter, the archer, the mariner's compass, the north crown, the south crown, the scales 
the big dog, the small dog, small lion and lyre the wig and the hare and the whale 
The small pair of compasses, one flying horse, the king's coat of arms and the cross,  
the southern triangle, the bee and the bull, the snake in two halves: that's your lot!

And homeward bound I found you, And asked you: realise my dream
It’s funny, I’d always had this need , To be some kind of svengali

You could be Jane Birkin and I would be your mentor
Coming on all Serge Gainsbourg or some kind of Phil Spector
You could be the passive one at Abigail’s next party
Where I would play the Momus to your Kahimie Karie

Another hanger on you could be Edie Sedgewick
And I would be your Warhol and say “Gee, you look fantastic”
You could be Diane Keaton, the other woman in Manhatten
And I would always be forever your fumbling Woody Allen

Took a dance down the road with Cantonese angels
The can-can in Paris hearing Japanese fables
The Maoris took a shine to me, took me outback
And in the Himalayas became a legend with a backpack
And venturing west, well you know the rest
I was getting bored not feeling any better

And homeward bound I found you, And asked you to humour me
I’d always had this burning need, To be some kind of svengali

I would be your Prospero and you my fair free spirit
You would be the Kylie to my pulsating backbeat
You could be my Emma Peel and I would be your Steed
Or Emotionless and cold be the Sapphire to my Steel

You could be the Gala to my undying Dali
Or instead the unmade bed, the Emin to my Saatchi
I will always be the Andrew Ridgely to your George
I’ll be your Maharishi, your guru, your sweet lord

I could be  the wingless Einar to your soaring Bjork
I will always play the Paxman to your Kirsty Wark
If you could only be Miss Jones, I’d see myself as Rigsby
I’d hug you like a loin cloth if you were my little Gandhi

And in my cosy office with it’s sofa and it’s key
We can feel the force, I’ll be your Obe wan kenobe

And though the games we play may be only for pretence
Realise I’ll always be there, your mentor with intent
And though the dreams may fade the fantasy stays open-ended
Remember I am always there, your mentor with intent

My old man’s Picasso
He’s got Picasso’s flair
He painted a woman lying flat on her back
With eyeballs over there

Forlorn people dressed in shades of black and blue
Harlequins decked out in gold and rouge

Got rid of all his furniture to help him paint his Guernica
He won the war with a paintbrush in his hand

My old man, he looks just like
Picasso from afar
He wears Corbusier trousers
And he lives in the South of France

My old dad’s Picasso
I’m Nicole to his Papa
Made bulls heads out of bicycles
But he didn’t do Dada though…

From Malaga, to Paris, and then down to London town
Pablo painted pictures by the pound

Les demoiselles d’Avignon
To a square guitar with its strings all wrong
He could do them all, he was the man

My old man’s Picasso
He wears Picasso’s hat
He invented cubist painting
With his old mate Georgey Braque

Til Andre Breton came along
Singing his surrealist song
And blew dear old Picasso clean away

Central line

Central line
Everybody loves the Central Line
We know why
It’ll get you east to west
The quickest and the reddest

It's the Central line
No potential deviation
It’s flat and horizontal
The line of least resistance
It’s a crime to call it crimson (cos it isn’t)

It's the Central line
Goes from Epping to West Ruislip
I hear it’s nice there
It used to be much longer
It used to go to Ongar

It's the Central line
London’s very own equator
But it could be straighter
It’s got the sharpest curve along it
Between Shepherds Bush and White City

It's the Central line
49 different stations
Stationed on it

And as for Oxford Circus
It’s the busiest station on the network
Maybe on Earth