Bad songs Lou Reed could have passed off

[Bungo the Mungo]

Bumped in honor of the man.

Oh, great.

Thanks.

[The Slider]

Joy bells are ringing,
The songs birds are singing,
And ev'ryone's happy and gay.
Dull days are over,
We'll soon be in clover,
So pack all your troubles away.

The sun has got his hat on
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!
The sun has got his hat on,
He's coming out today.

Now we'll all be happy,
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!
The sun has got his hat on,
And he's coming out today.

He's been tanning niggers out in Timbuctoo,
Now he's coming back to do the same for you.
So jump into your sunbath
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!
The sun has got his hat on,
And he's coming out today.
Never saw the grass so green
Never saw the sky so blue
What a lot of fun to ev'ryone,
Sitting in the sun all day.

All the little boys excited,
All the little girls delighted,
What a lot of fun to ev'ryone,
Sitting in the sun all day.

Now we all be happy
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!
The sun has got his hat on,
And he's coming out today.

He's been tanning niggers out in Timbuctoo
Now he's coming back to do the same for you.
So jump into your sunbath
Hip-hip-hip-hooray!
The sun has got his hat on,
And he's coming out today.

[Davey the Fat Boy]

[Penk!]

She played the fiddle in an Irish band
But she fell in love with an English man
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand
Said, "Baby, I just want to dance"

I met her on Grafton street right outside of the bar
She shared a cigarette with me while her brother played the guitar
She asked me what does it mean the Gaelic ink on your arm?
Said it was one of my friend's songs do you want to drink on?

She took Jamie as a chaser, Jack for the fun
She got Arthur on the table, with Johnny riding as shot gun
Chatted some more, one more drink at the bar
Then put Van on the jukebox, got up to dance, you know

She played the fiddle in an Irish band
But she fell in love with an English man
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand
Said, "Baby, I just want to dance"

With my pretty little Galway Girl
You're my pretty little Galway Girl

You know she beat me at darts and then she beat me at pool
And then she kissed me like there was nobody else in the room
As last orders were called, was when she stood on the stool
After dancing to Cèilidh, singing to trad tunes
I never heard Carrickfergus ever sung so sweet
Acapella in the bar using her feet for a beat
Oh I could have that voice playing on repeat for a week
And in this packed out room, swear she was singing to me, you know

She played the fiddle in an Irish band
But she fell in love with an English man
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand
Said, "Baby, I just want to dance"

My pretty little Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl

Now we've outstayed our welcome and it's closing time
I was holding her hand, her hand was holding mine
Our coats both smell of smoke, whisky and wine
As we fill up our lungs with the cold air of the night

I walked her home then she took me inside
Finish some Doritos and another bottle of wine
I swear I'm going to put you in a song that I write
About a Galway girl and a perfect night

She played the fiddle in an Irish band
But she fell in love with an English man
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand
Said, "Baby, I just want to dance"

My pretty little Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl
My my my my my my my Galway girl

[The Slider]

You can tell the world you never was my girl
You can burn my clothes when I'm gone
Or you can tell your friends just what a fool I've been
And laugh and joke about me on the phone

You can tell my arms go back to the farm
You can tell my feet to hit the floor
Or you can tell my lips to tell my fingertips
They won't be reaching out for you no more

But don't tell my heart my achy breaky heart
I just don't think he'd understand
And if you tell my heart my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man

You can tell your ma I moved to Arkansas
You can tell your dog to bite my leg
Or tell your brother Cliff whose fist can can tell my lip
He never really liked me anyway

Or tell your Aunt Louise tell anything you please
Myself already knows I'm not okay
Or you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind
It might be walking out on me today

Don't tell my heart my achy breaky heart...

Don't tell my heart my achy breaky heart...
Don't tell my heart my achy breaky heart...

[clive gash]

I was supposed to be going out, that took ages
Kids are hardcore, aren't they?
They don't mess about
Madhouse, chit-chat, duties, more nappies
Then I manage to get out
The sharp night whistled around my coat, as I motioned up to the main road
The wails of your offspring behind ya, cracking window
It's hard, innit, when you plan to do something
But at that moment you realize it's not quite right
Not really something you should be doing tonight
Well before me a few hellos, expectant mums with blokes that I know
The bus whirred, three-fifty all-day ticket
But I knew deep down I wasn't going to use it later

I arrange my coat on the front seat and blend it in with the low lighting
People on the way out too, talking
Everyone still looks like Ena Sharples and Ray Reardon
People need to move on
That '50s look can do one
Elvis has definitely left the fucking building
I got a wine, large, shoved it down me, awful
I hate the 5.8
I thought about it, I thought about his face when I asked if he had any Rioja
He didn't like it
Don't look at me like that
Like you think I'm some wine twat
I like it
I sit in me house a lot
Eventually you get an idea, little shit
Go and listen to some fucking garage punk, you pointy little tit.

The sofa sank, I couldn't relax
I felt cramped but luckily the table next to me got up and left
And apart from the eight empty pint glasses they left on the table
I thought it was the better bet, more upright
I ain't slouching, I'm not a beatnik
Although, this pub did call for that kind of angle
I hate going out, going out is for young people
I can't sit and enjoy a drink, I want the lot
Have you got any numbers?
And how much has he got?
The trappings of luxury can't save you from the nail-biting boredom of repetitive brain injury
The injury of your useless mind, stuck to the track
Clinging onto years of that's not yours that's mine, give me it.

Total Control Racing, TCR
Going round and round, under the bridges
Slowing down, it's all about technique
Hand shandy chic, under five second flat
The tragedy of the male-less fucking man.

[Bent Fabric]

Go!

Im gonna wake you up early
Cause Im gonna take a ride with you
Were going down to the honda shop
Ill tell you what were gonna do
Put on a ragged sweatshirt
Ill take you anywhere you want me to

First gear (honda honda) it's alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster it's alright

Its not a big motorcycle
Just a groovy little motorbike
Its more fun that a barrel of monkeys
That two wheel bike
Well ride on out of the town
To any place I know you like

First gear (honda honda) it's alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster it's alright

It climbs the hills like a matchless
Cause my hondas built really light
When I go into the turns
Lean [tilt] with me and hang on tight
I better turn on the lights
So we can ride my honda tonight

First gear (honda honda) it's alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster it's alright

First gear (honda honda) it's alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster it's alright

EDIT: Note that I in know way think this is just a bad song... I could just see Lou doing it.

https://www.discogs.com/The-Surfsiders-The-Surfsiders-Sing-The-Beach-Boys-Songbook/release/2066726

Clearly, we didn't know about this when you posted the above.

[northernsky]

If you had the luck of the Irish
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead
You should have the luck of the Irish
And you'd wish you was English instead

A thousand years of torture and hunger
Drove the people away from their land
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the British brigands Goddamn! Goddamn!

If you could keep voices like flowers
There'd be shamrock all over the world
If you could drink dreams like Irish streams
Then the world would be high as the mountain of morn

If we could make chains with the morning dew
The world would be like Galway Bay
Let's walk over rainbows like leprechauns
The world would be one big Blarney stone

Why the hell are the English there anyway?
As they kill with God on their side
Blame it all on the kids the IRA
As the bastards commit genocide Aye! Aye! Genocide!

If you had the luck of the Irish
You'd be sorry and wish you was dead
You should have the luck of the Irish
And you'd wish you was English instead
Yes you'd wish you was English instead