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Mash It Up Harry Lyrics
He's got his little Y-fronts and he's got his little vest
He's got his little parting in his hair
He's got his little trousers and he's got his little shoes
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his you-know-where
He's got his little jacket and he's got his little shirt
He's got his little motif on his tie
He's got his little raincoat and he's got his little hat
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his I yi yi
Don't call Harry a human potato
Don't call Harry a spud
Don't call Harry a walking King Edward
Harry's made of flesh and blood
He's got his little office and he's got his little chair
He's got his little cactus in its pot
He's got his little memos and he's got his little job
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his you-know-what
He's got his little pension and he's got his little plan
He's got his little policy in hand
He's got his little lap-top and he's got his little pen
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Rio Grande
Don't call Harry a human potato
Don't fry Harry tonight
Don't give Harry a chip on his shoulder
Harry's doing alright
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
He's got his little mortgage and he's got his little lounge
He's got his little bit of England to defend
He's got his little telly and he's got his little phone
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Ponder's End
He's got his little garden and he's got his little shed
He's got his little mower on the grass
He's got his little garage and he's got his little car
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Khyber Pass
Don't call Harry a human potato
Don't roast him on a spike
I think Harry's a real golden wonder
Let Harry be the Spud-U-Like
Don't call Harry a human potato
Don't call Harry a spud
Don't call Harry a walking King Edward
Harry's made of flesh and blood
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
We're on our way to Wembley; we're on the Wembley Way (x11)
We're on our way to Wembley
He's got his little parting in his hair
He's got his little trousers and he's got his little shoes
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his you-know-where
He's got his little motif on his tie
He's got his little raincoat and he's got his little hat
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his I yi yi
Don't call Harry a spud
Don't call Harry a walking King Edward
Harry's made of flesh and blood
He's got his little cactus in its pot
He's got his little memos and he's got his little job
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his you-know-what
He's got his little policy in hand
He's got his little lap-top and he's got his little pen
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Rio Grande
Don't fry Harry tonight
Don't give Harry a chip on his shoulder
Harry's doing alright
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
He's got his little bit of England to defend
He's got his little telly and he's got his little phone
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Ponder's End
He's got his little mower on the grass
He's got his little garage and he's got his little car
And he wants a bit of Wembley up his Khyber Pass
Don't roast him on a spike
I think Harry's a real golden wonder
Let Harry be the Spud-U-Like
Don't call Harry a human potato
Don't call Harry a spud
Don't call Harry a walking King Edward
Harry's made of flesh and blood
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Mash it up, mash it up, mash it up Harry
Song Info
Submitted by
gothic_hobbit On May 21, 2009
More Ian Dury And The Blockheads
Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick
Razzle in my Pocket
My Old Man
Blockheads
Clever Trevor
This is a not-too-subtle song about a gay guy. Never heard the phrase "a bit of Wembley" before but I think the analogy is there!
p.s. Wembley is the national football stadium in England in case you didn't know.
Although I've never heard it used before, I think "Wembley" is Dury's rhyming slang (a London thing)for "gay". The road leading to Wembley Stadium is Wembley Way. Wembley = Wembley Way = Gay!
I think he cleverly balances slagging Harry off a bit with defending his sexual preferences - ultimately Harry's a "real Golden Wonder" and "...made of flesh and blood" - magnificent!