The Ballad of Liddl and Aldi (par Mick MacConnell)

Une chanson écrite par le vieux Mick alors qu'il devait aller faire les courses à la place de sa femme qui s'était cassé la cheville. Les paroles ci-dessous.

Well the wife she broke her ankle when she tumbled off the bike
Leaving me to do the housework, a job I never liked
And doing the weekly shopping seemed a dreadful chore to me
'Til I discovered LidldiAldi, LidldiAldi LidldiAldi Lidldidee.

Now I just can't wait for Thursdays when the specials go on view
I'm the first man to the trolleys; I'm the first man in the queue
For now I know what women mean about retail therapy
It's LidldiAldi, LidldiAldi LidldiAldi Lidldidee.

Its angle grinders and black puddings and a pot of German jam
A lump of hairy bacon and a wet suit from Japan
And a pack of streaky rashers, a crate of Russian stout
And a portable generator just in case the lights go out
Alloy wheels and windscreen wipers and a bag of Rooster spuds
An inflatable rubber dinghy to help survive the floods
Spanners, sockets and fish fingers, they're so cheap they're damn near free
At LidldiAldi, LidldiAldi, LidldiAldi, Lidldidee.

Now there's welding rods and prime organic beef to make a hearty stew
A hiking staff and spiky boots for climbing Kathmandu
Big heads of curly cabbage to make you eat your fill
Sledgehammers and bananas and a lovely cordless drill
And there's hatchets and hamburgers and there's tins of beans and peas
And a petrol driven chainsaw for cutting bits off trees
Strimmers, sabres, saws and sausages, computers and TVs
At LidldiAldi, LidldiAldi LidldiAldi Lidldidee.

Now the wife has gone ballistic, marriage heading for the rocks
With her crutches and her shopping bag now she's hobbling round the shops
And she's cut up all me credit cards, I'm sad as sad can be
No more Aldi LidldiAldi, no more Lidldidee for me.

For the shed is full of plastic shit I didn't really want
And the gardens full of furniture and the house is full of plants
And I'm living in the doghouse; Rover, Fido, Shep and me
Because of Aldi LidldiAldi LidldiAldi Lidldidee.

So no more angle grinders nor black puddings, no more pots of German jam
No lumps of hairy bacon, no more wet suits from Japan
No packs of streaky rashers, and I'll have to do without
Another portable generator just in case the lights go out
No alloy wheels, no windscreen wipers, no bags of Rooster spuds
No inflatable rubber dinghies to help survive the floods
For I am living in the doghouse I'm as sad as sad can be,
No more Aldi LidldiAldi, no more Lidldidee for me!

Envoyé par Ced le 7 novembre 2017 à 12h42