There was a p-plethora of poets
A-traipsing cross the stage
There was some goodwill, but they'd blown it
The crowd were in a rage
There was the smell of people dying
In a metaphoric sense
And an increase in hecklers' heckling
Their anger to dispense
Could see the panic of performers
The terror in their eyes
And the onset of boos and whistling
Which came as no surprise
'Cause it does not take Albert Einstein
To tell the reason why
If you insist on playing new stuff
The audience will cry:

(Why aren't you playing anything we know?)

Why aren't you playing anything we know?
Oi! Why aren't you playing anything we know?
Though we haven't payed for tickets
We are not ready to go
We're just waiting for one recognizeable item in this show


OK, you've got a brand new CD
And you are proud of your new songs
But you have not had time to learn them
And you're playing 'em all wrong
It's a little bit disrupting
Your act is sure to flop
When for the twenty-seventh time you say
"Let's take it from the top"
When the light behind the stage
Is not enough to read the chords
Maybe a wee bit more rehearsal
Would pay out huge rewards
And from disaster to disaster
To utter disarray
Just when you think it's going well
You can bet somebody will say:

(Why aren't you playing anything you know?)

Why aren't you playing anything you know?
Yes, why aren't you playing anything you know?
Look, you've even got the lyric sheet
To tell you how to go
So FFS please play anything you know