Eric Idle (born 29 March 1943) is an English comedian, actor, author, singer, writer, and comedic composer. He was a member of the British surreal comedy group Monty Python, a member of the The Rutles on Saturday Night Live, and the author of the Broadway musical Spamalot.
Idle was born in South Shields, County Durham (now Tyne and Wear) in Harton Village, the son of Nora Barron (née Sanderson), a health visitor, and Ernest Idle. His father served in the Royal Air Force and survived World War II, only to be killed in a hitch-hiking accident when Idle was only two years old. His mother had difficulty coping with a full-time job and raising a child, so when Idle was seven, she enrolled him into the Royal Wolverhampton School as a boarder. At this time the school was a charitable foundation dedicated to the education and maintenance of children who had lost one or both parents. Idle is quoted as saying: "It was a physically abusive, bullying, harsh environment for a kid to grow up in. I got used to dealing with groups of boys and getting on with life in unpleasant circumstances and being smart and funny and subversive at the expense of authority. Perfect training for Python."
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
And things seem hard or tough,
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft,
And you feel that you've had quite eno-o-o-o-o-ough!
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned
The sun that is the source of all our power
Now the sun, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see,
Are moving at a million miles a day,
In the outer spiral arm, at fourteen thousand miles an hour
Of a galaxy we call the Milky Way
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side.
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide
We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point,
We go 'round every two hundred million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding,
In all of the directions it can whiz.
As fast as it can go, that's the speed of light, you know,
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed there is
So remember, when you're feeling very small and insecure,
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere out in space
There are Jews in the world, there are Buddhists
There are Hindus, and Mormons, and then
There are those that follow Mohammed but
I've never been one of them.
I'm a Roman Catholic
And have been since before I were born
And the one thing they say about Catholics is
They'll take you as soon as you're warm
You don't have to be a six footer
You don't have to have a great brain
You don't have to have any clothes on
You're a Catholic the moment Dad came
Because
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
Let the heathen spill theirs
On the dusty ground
God shall make them pay
For each sperm that can't be found
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood
Hindu, Taoist, Mormon
Spill theirs just anywhere
But God loves those who treat their
Semen with more care
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
God gets quite irate
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood
Every sperm is useful
Every sperm is fine
God needs everybody's
Mine, and mine, and mine
Let the pagans spill theirs
O'er mountain, hill and plain
God shall strike them down for
Each sperm that's spilt in vain
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is good
Every sperm is needed
In your neighborhood
Every sperm is sacred
Every sperm is great
If a sperm is wasted
Here's a little number I wrote the other day while out
duck hunting with a judge, QUACK
Fuck you very much the FCC
Fuck you very much for fining me
Five thousand bucks a fuck so I'm really out of luck
Thats more than Heidi Fliess was charging me.
So fuck you very much the FCC
For proving that free speech just isn't free
Clear Channel's a dear channel
so Howard Stern must go
Attorney General Ashcroft doesn't like strong words and
He's charging twice as much as all the drugs for Rush
Limbo
so fuck you all so very much
So fuck you very much dear Mr. Bush
for heroically sitting on your tush
For Halliburton, Enron, all the companies who fail
Lets send them a clear signal and stick Martha straight
in jail
She's an uppity rich bitch, but at least she isn't male
So fuck you all so very much
So fuck you dickhead Mr. Cheney too.
Fuck you and fuck everything you do.
Your pace maker must be fake
You haven't got a heart
As far as I'm concerned your just a pasty faced old
fart
And as for Condolezza she an intellectual tart
So fuck you all so very much
So fuck you very much the EPA
For giving all Alaska's oil away
It really is a bummer
When I can't fill my Hummer
The ozone a no go zone now that Arnold's here to say
The nuclear winter games are going to take place in LA
So fuck you all so very much
So what the planet fails
Lets save the great white males
And fuck you all so very much
[Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Here's a little number I tossed off recently in the Caribbean.]
Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis,
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy,
It's divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger
To the world's biggest prick.
So three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas,
Hooray for your one eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy or your cock,
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public
Or they will stick you in the dock,
All things dull and ugly
All creatures short and squat
All things rude and nasty,
The lord god made the lot.
Each little snake that poisons,
Each little wasp that stings.
He made their brutish venom,
He made their horrid wings.
All things sick and cancerous,
All evil great and small
All things foul and dangerous
The lord god made them all.
Each nasty little hornet
Each beastly little squid
Who made the spiky urchin
Who made the shocks... he did.
All things scabbed and ulcerous,
All pox both great and small.
Putrid, foul and gangrenous,
The lord god made them all.
Why are we here? What's life all about?
Is God really real, or is there some doubt?
Well, tonight, we're going to sort it all out,
For, tonight, it's 'The Meaning of Life'.
What's the point of all this hoax?
Is it the chicken and the egg time? Are we just yolks?
Or, perhaps, we're just one of God's little jokes.
Well, ça c'est le 'Meaning of Life'.
Is life just a game where we make up the rules
While we're searching for something to say,
Or are we just simply spiralling coils
Of self-replicating DNA. Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay, nay.
In this 'life', what is our fate?
Is there Heaven and Hell? Do we reincarnate?
Is mankind evolving, or is it too late?
Well, tonight, here's 'The Meaning of Life'.
For millions, this 'life' is a sad vale of tears,
Sitting 'round with rien nothing to say
While the scientists say we're just simply spiralling
coils
Of self-replicating DNA. Nay, nay, nay, nay, nay, nay.
So, just why-- why are we here,
And just what-- what-- what-- what do we fear?
Well, ce soir, for a change, it will all be made clear,
For this is 'The Meaning of Life'. C'est le sens de la
vie.
Sit on my face and tell me that you love me
I'll sit on your face and tell you I love you, too
I love to hear you o-ra-lize
When I'm between your thighs
You blow me away
Sit on my face and let my lips embrace you
I'll sit on your face and then I’ll love you truly
Life can be fine if we both sixty-nine
If we sit on our faces
in all sorts of places
Eric Idle:
I've got ninety thousand pounds in my pyjamas.
I've got forty thousand French francs in my fridge.
I've got lots of lovely lire.
Now the Deutschmark's getting dearer,
And my dollar bills would buy the Brooklyn Bridge.
Eric Idle and CHORUS:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
There is nothing quite as beautiful as cash.
Some people say it's folly,
But I'd rather have the lolly.
With money you can make a splash.
Eric Idle:
There is nothing quite as wonderful as money.
CHORUS:
...Money, money, money, money.
Eric Idle:
There is nothing like a newly minted pound.
CHORUS:
...Money, money, money, money.
Eric Idle and CHORUS:
Everyone must hanker
For the butchness of a banker.
It's accountancy that makes the world go 'round.
CHORUS:
'Round, 'round, 'round.
Eric Idle:
You can keep your Marxist ways,
For it's only just a phase,
For it's money, money, money makes the world go 'round.
CHORUS:
...Money, money, money, money, money, money, money,
There's a place you're always welcome
That's as nice as it can be
Everyone can get in
'Cause it's absolutely free!
That's death
No need to take a breath
Just lay around all day
With not a single bill to pay
Hooray!
That's death
No more sicknesses or flu
If you've lived beyond your means
You can die beyond them to
Boo hoo!
Well the greatest and the finest
Have already died
Why not simply join them
On the other side?
That's death
Say farewell to all your bills
Rip up all your wills
And pop your final pills
Amen!
That's death
It's a date with fate
If you're not feeling great
Then it's the best way to lose weight, mate
Nothing here to hurt you
No one's here to nag
Come die with me
If your life's a drag!
That's death
The wealthy and well-bred
All of them are here
And they're all completely dead
That's death
No more headaches, no more pain
Of the millions who've died
No one came back to complain!
You can't take it with you
You can't keep what you've got
So why not just lay back
And simply rot?
Just simply rot
It's so cool it's hot
Here we go again, must be delirious
Can't close my eyes
Sleep is just a drug, this must be serious
This must be serious
Does this go on and on forever
Sometimes in the dark I feel invincible
I wonder why
I hear voices out of shadows
And shadows never lie
Helter skelter
Now give me shelter
Use the children like toys
Eat your lover
Then find an another
There be good [become] little boys
Boys will be boys
I got two hands to hold you
Two arms around you
The master and the slave
Two eyes to watch you
Two hands to help you
Put one foot in the grave
Here we go again, must be delirious
Can't close my eyes, no
Sleep is just a drug, this must be serious
This must be serious
Helter skelter
Now, give me shelter
My brain is twisting again
I could be dreaming this
No, I'm screaming this
No more, no
I got two hands to hold you
Two arms around you
The master and the slave
Two eyes to watch you
Two hands to help you