I wrote this at least five years ago, but I feel it is still relevant. The rhyme scheme is a bit bananas its more of a rap/poetry jam from my angry younger mind.
Every time I see Simon Cowell,
my face changes, and rearranges into a scowl,
vomit in my mouth, sick from the bowels
I want to play Rude Countdown,
it’s clearly a two letter word, something, ‘off’
an F, C & K, I think you can think of the vowel…
I’ll write Simon 7 letters, cos his output is humdrum and this is a bit of a conundrum
I’ll get Dirty Sanchez to ‘nap him and televise him and Louis Walsh playin’ bumdrum.
Single handedly ruining the industry, but i’m wrong, you choose it
you watch the shows, see the tunes in the shops and buy that music,
he’s nearly a billionaire off the poor cover versions on the radio that fill the air
trouble is that fuckers gonna still be here n’ there, when he’s got silver hair!
Now look at the back catalogue:
Gareth Gates, big for a year then it all started to stutter
Will Young, at least he can sing…
Michelle McManus, would have dissapeared off the map if she wasn’t so fat
…and then there was who?
Kelly Clarkson, stateside, and yeah I’m still laughing
…my memory has kindly blanked out all those in between then and now
That Scottish guy, who wasn’t really an answer more of a, why?
Leona Lewis, yeah I have to admit she’s got what it takes, but if she’d never been on the show she’d have gotten the breaks
Alexandra Burke, average pop minstrel, give her a few years she’ll be looking for work
Daniel McElderry, all I have to say is, RATM, and how annoying are you? very
Well I almost forgot Girls Allowed, that ginger bird nearly ruined it for all of them.
Shut this shit down!
The best albums I have, are all people that had, the hunger cos they wanted it bad
And it shows in the quality of the tunes, they weren’t constructed in a lab
or churned out in boxes and wrapped in clear plastic erupting from bags
something smells funny about all these imposters, they got that brand new shiny feel
don’t write their own shit, do more covers than a karaoke veteran, while blind to the real
one things for sure, it’s gonna have one hell of a job, if time can heal.
The only justice in all this, is if Simon Cowell was forced to live in a padded (or paddy?) cell with John and Edward or Jedward, for the rest of his days as they play the Ghostbusters theme song repeatedly, using crudely shaped hair brushes constructed from Cowell’s ego for mics.
P.S. to those who say his trousers are too high, let them rise!. Please, leave the man alone, they should clearly be around his neck, with someone tightening the belt..