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Songs: The Story Of My Life

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I was watching Eastenders Omnibus
When the phone rang which was odd because
I was pretty sure I hadn't turned it on
I flipped it open but the screen was dark
Then a voice from above said Hello Mark
This is God come to tell you where you're going wrong

You should wear a flower in your hair
And dance nude as if nobody else is there
I said God, with all possible respect
Are you really after Mark Hibbett?
He said Sorry, it's Hibbert - forget it about it, yeah?

And that's the story of my life
People cannot spell my name quite right
It's HIBBE double T if you wish to correctly address me
It's not essential, but it would be nice

It's like the shop selling sporting goods
Or a Japanese poet, and I would
Rather not see it like Mother Hubbard from Nursery Rhymes
Or like Kenny Hibbitt who played for Wolves
And managed Walsall or, of course
Like the Doctor off The Simpsons, not quite

When I first started on the stage
I'd lecture Landlords in whose pubs I'd play
One time I found to my surprise
The poster spelt my surname right
It said Simon Hibbett, doors open half past eight

And that's the story of my life
People cannot spell my name quite right
MJ HI double B ETT, to spell it all out correctly
It's not vital, but it is polite

Frustrated with the dyslexia
Applied to my chosen nomme de guerre
I went to the crossroads, to strike a deadly deal
I said hey Satan, what's the price
For getting my name spelt right
And he said come here and sit upon my knee

He said I think there's been a mistake
I'm not Old Nick I'm Nick The Saint
I don't burn in the pit of eternity
I get slightly scorched in your chimney
And everywhere I go I go by Sleigh

If that's the story of your life
As crosses borne go that one is pretty light
who cares if it's I, ER or U
Be thankful that your name's being used
At all - now get out of my sight

Rudolph glowered and Blitzen hissed
As he crossed my name off his list
And said "Let this be a lesson to you, lad"
He took the reins and off they flew
I wasn't bothered, for I knew
It's Simon Hibbert whose Christmas will be crap


Published by Wipe Out Music Publishing

When we got back from the WE VALIDATE! tour of July 2006 i was ABSOLUTELY KNACKERED, and spent much of the following weekend LOLLOPED across sofas, beds and floors around our house. Whilst I was doing this i FINALLY started watching that Martin Scorcese documentary about Bob Dylan, "No Direction Home", during which I thought "Hey, why don't I have a go at doing some of that STRUMMING like what he's doing?"

With the song bung now FULLY out following We Can Start Having Fun and especially Other Bands' Setlists I should have guessed what would happen, and soon I found myself freely singing NONSENSE about the fact that gig promoters and publications just CANNOT spell my name correctly. Recently we'd had a wide RANGE of mispellings on gig posters, listings magazines and in reviews, the latter ALWAYS accompanied by a picture of the album with my name spelt correctly in REALLY BIG LETTERS. It doesn't annoy me as much as it used to, but lately I've been trying to be a bit more strict about telling people if they've got it wrong, just because if left so it makes it harder for people to find us on the interweb.

That was the BUILD UP to it anyway, the rest just flowed as the song went on - I had to go back and do verse 2 after I'd got that (i think) ACE bit about Santa/Satan, and the final verse which rather sorts it all OUT turned up just after I thought I'd finished. You can EASILY tell the POWER OF THE ZIMM in it, and it's not likely to be on any GRATEST HITS or anything, but i was quite chuffed with it when it was done!


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