Barmy Army Songbook
Songbook
Ball and Chain
There is a house in New Orleans, They call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy, oh Lord I know I'm one
One foot on the platform, one foot on the train
I'm going back to New Orleans, to my ball and chain
1,2,
Ball and Chain! Ball and Chain!
We came here with Backpacks you with Ball and Chain
Ball and Chain! Ball and Chain!
We came here with Backpacks you with Ball and Chain.
Convict Colony
(To the tune of Yellow Submarine)
In the town where I was born, there lived a man who was a thief
And he told me of his life, stealing bread and shagging sheep.
So they put him in the nick, and then a magistrate he went to see
He said "put him on a ship, to the convict colony"
You all live in a convict colony, a convict colony, a convict colony
You all live in a convict colony, a convict colony, a convict colony
Don't look back to Ponting
Slip inside Ricky Ponting's mind
He's trying to find
Some new players to play
He wants to play his older team
But that's just a dream
They're too old to play
He said he'd start a revolution in his head
But he's been through all the players A to Z
Now there's just a summertime of doom
If he loses the Ashes race
He is going to lose his place
Losing three would simply tear his heart out
So Ricky can wait
Shane Warne is too late
And there's no Glenn McGrath
Gilchrist's had his day
And don't look back to Langer
He cannot play
Where did all those old players go
Now everyone knows
You've nearly had your day
You'll have to leave the team in the hands
Of Michael Clarke and
He'll throw it all away
He said he'd start a revolution in his head
But he's been through all the players A to Z
Now there's just a summertime of doom
If he loses the Ashes race
He is going to lose his place
Losing three would simply tear his heart out
So Ricky can wait
Shane Warne is too late
And there's no Glenn McGrath
Gilchrist's had his day
And don't look back to Langer
He cannot play
So Ricky can wait
Shane Warne is too late
And there's no Glenn McGrath
Gilchrist's had his day
And don't look back to Langer
He cannot play
At least not today
He Bowls to the Left (Mitchell Johnson)
He bowls to the left...
He bowls to the rightttttttt
That Mitchell Johnson
His bowling is shite!
I Can't Read (Ricky Ponting)
I can't read and I can't write
I must be Australian
I can't read and I can't write
I must be Australian
I can't bowl and I can't bat
My names Ricky Ponting
I can't drink and I can't fight
My names Ricky Ponting
I shagged Matlida
I shagged Matilda, I shagged Matilda,
I shagged Matilda and so did my mates,
And she moaned and groaned and she took it up the Billabong,
I shagged Matilda and so did my mates.
Ponting, without Mcgrath and Warne (Ricky Ponting)
To the tune of Colonel Bogey
Ponting, without Mcgrath and Warne
Is hopeless and only 5ft tall
He's skipper but now so bitter
As we claim the Ashes once more
Siddle by Siddle (Peter Siddle)
(to the tune of Little by Little)
Siddle by Siddle,
You bowl us everything we ever dreamed of,
Siddle by Siddle,
The wheels of your team are slowly falling off,
Siddle by Siddle,
You always bowl a ball that goes for 4,
And all the time,
Ponting asks himself why, are you really here?
Why are you really here?
Why are you really here?
Why are you really here?
And one for Ian Bell that Gaz says may need a bit of work
Call out the Sherminator,
There's some swing in the air,
He's gonna get a ton sooner or later,
If you keep on bowling there,
Bell is dy-na-mite!
Take the Urn Home
We came over from old Blighty
The Barmy Army and me
Around Brisbane town we did roam
6 quid for a pint, a grand for a flight
With Strauss our captain, we'll take the urn home
So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home
Ricky Ponting's a broken man
Without Warne he has no plan
He tries to carry the team all on his own
He's losing his hair
But we don't care
'Cos Strauss our captain will take the urn home
So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home
Graeme Swann is a caring guy
Rescues cats in his spare time
Now he's gonna tear the Aussies apart
They can't read his spin
And so England will win
'Cos Strauss our captain will take the urn home
So hoist up the John B sail
See how the mainsail sails
Call for the captain ashore
Take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
We'll take the urn home
With Strauss our captain
We'll take the urn home
The Aussies love the English
The Aussies love the English, you might find it quite strange
'Cos we sent them all down under, with only balls and chains
And when they see the English, they always shout and scream
But when they had the chance to vote they voted for the Queen!
God save your gracious Queen
Long live your noble Queen
God save your Queen (you're a convict)
Send her victorious
Happy and glorious
Long to reign over you
God save your Queen.
The Johnson Family (Mitchell Johnson)
His mother hates his missus
His missus hates his mother
They all hate each other
The Johnson Family
de le la le de le la le de le la le
Yesterday (Ricky Ponting)
Yesterday
Ponting's troubles seemed so far away
Now Nathan Hauritz is here to stay
McGrath and Warne were Yesterday
Suddenly
They're not half the team they used to be
Will he lose Ashes number three
Yesterday came suddenly
Why Haydos
Had to go I don't know, Langer wouldn't say
Adam Gilchrist's gone, now Ricky longs for Yesterdayyyyyy
You can sing sod all
(To the tune of Wonderwall)
Today is gonna be the day that we're gonna sing a song for you.
By now you should've somehow realized that's what we're here to do.
And I don't believe that anybody sings as bad as you.
AUSSIE CONVICTS
Backbeat, the word is on the street that you can't even write a song
I'm sure, you've heard it all before, but c'mon Aussies prove us wrong
'Cos I don't believe that anybody's quite as thick as you
AUSSIE CONVICTS
The "oh aah" song you sing for Glenn is so sad
And "Warney Warney Warney" is just as bad
There are many songs that I would like to hear from you
But you don't know how, (don't know how)
'Cos maybe, (maybe) you'll never find a song to play me, (play me)
'Cos after all, YOU CAN SING SOD ALL
