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Tradition Continues
Crawford Howard
 
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THE 'Y' FACTOR
by
Jimmy Rafferty

When I seen the Telly advert, I says 'that's the job for me'
They were looking for contestants for X-factor on TV.
Me boyfriend said I hadn't a hope, but then he's a wee bit thick
I think his name is Richard, 'cos his mates all call him Dick!

There was auditions at the Hilton, on the following Tuesday week
And I swore that I would go for it, and not listen to thon geek!
I thought I'd be a sure thing, with me looks and me funky hair
And I used to work in Tesco's, so I must be halfway there!

There wuz other ones from Ulster, like, had made it right'n big
Like Malachi McWot-is-Name, and thon wee lad, E-ogg-han Quigg
And they were all country gapshites – sure I thought it was a pity
They were not cool and sophisticated, not like us'ns from the city!

Well, I wanted for till look me best, so I squeezed out all me zits
Put on me shortest miniskirt, and a wee top to flash me . . . bits
I wore me boots with the six-inch heels – they are genuine black plastic,
But they tighten up me arse a bit, and make me walk fantastic!

I got a taxi down the town, so me makeup wouldn't get messed
The driver tried to touch me up, so he must've been impressed.
He says “Are ye going till a fancy dress, a party for Tarts'n'Vicars?”
I says “Ye durty Oul Brute Ye, get yer oul paws aff me knickers!”

There was a queue right round the Hilton, way out till the BT towers
The wind aff the river wudda skint ye – I wuz standing there for hours
With the toes and heels cut aff me, them boots is not for walking
By the time I got to go on stage, me dogs wuz fairly barking!

They asked me what I'd like till sing – I said I wud do 'The Rose'
An original by Westlife – What they were laughing at, God Knows!
Well, I done the first verse rightly, but I tried to dance a bit
My heels caught the microphone cord, and I went arse over tit!
My top was stretched to bursting point, and one fell out, by heck!
I wouldn't have minded half as much if I'd washed for a lower neck!

Well, I knew I could depend on Louis – he couldn't have done no better
Sure he would vote for anyone who had owned an Irish setter!
Thon Cheryl blade was different, now – not a nice thing did she say
She was jealous of me looks, ye see – I knowed that right away!

Simon sat with a big long face, and he fiddled with his pen
With he's trousers up round he's oxters, like Ken Dodd's Diddymen
He said that I was awful, like a crow with a frog in it's throat,
But I knowed he fancied me like mad, so he gave me a 'YES' vote.

So I got sent away to England, to join up with the strangest bunch
Some of them was definitely a sandwich short of a lunch!
One bloke was very tanned and fit – he ran marathons for fun
He said he was gay, from Liverpool – I'm not surprised he could run!

There was Chinese girl from London, who had a silk split skirt
And a twenty-eight stone Geordie bloke, who never wore a shirt
One fella was in a cowgirl suit, and a pink hat with flashing lights
He said he was a transvestite – he was always stealing my tights!

There was a funny looking lassie, with blonde pigtails tied to her cap
She said she come from Iceland – I thought she worked in the shop!
Some of them were just hopeless – not one interesting thing.
One fat oul doll from Scotland, sure all she could do was sing!

One claimed she was a Lesbian but she had three kids as well
I wondered how she managed it, but of course, she wouldn't tell
I asked if they wore a paper bag, with a woman's face painted on
I thought that if I wuz a fella, I'd have wanted two bags for thon!

Of course, the newspapermen went mad, to get all me details
Hunting for some scandalous things to boost their bloomin' sales
The Mirror and the Sun sent men, the Sunday World and the Daily Star
They were camped outside me mammy's like an army going to war.
The bloke from the Protestant Telegraph now - he got a nasty shock
Him and the Andytown News man had been in the same H-block

Then they heard a rumour – now God knows from where it sprung
Me Aunt Bridie had been a hooker, way back when she was young
But they got the details wrong, of course, as these guys usually will
Before she'd the operation, he used to play at Ravenhill!

Me boyfriend sold his story till some newspaper tycoon
He said that we were so in love, we'd be married when I won
G'way'n' ketch yerself on, son!! - if I should win the crown,
There's a damn sight livelier men than him lying in Milltown!
When I sitting with me showbiz pals, chatting to Ant and Dec,
D'ye think I'd want thon spotty twerp hanging round me neck?

The madness just continued, each day crazier than the last
We got to meet the rich and famous, that you'd never see in Belfast
They brought in Jedward just to show it's all right to be crap
But I couldn't get quite close enough to hit one of them a slap

But I only lasted the first three weeks, for they fixed the bloody vote
The tricks them crafty English pull, it would really get on yer goat
They fixed the damn computers – only one vote each could be used
Sure all my fans in West Belfast were totally confused!

Well, I didn't care who won it then, I didn't even switch it on
Some skinny bitch with implants and a voice like a damn foghorn.
But I'm telling yis now – this time next year, I'll have my share of fame
For Mary Immaculata McGonnigle is gonna be a really BIG name!

 
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