A piccolo, a disco beat,
An elfin chanteuse in bare feet.
A tune about how love is pain
And bagpipes in the song from Spain.
Floating orbs and solar flares;
Bonnie Tyler's massive hair.
In double denim, one group dressed
In front of Gautier, no less!
Feathers, latex, bondage gear
Thank God Jedward kept well clear.
Pyrotechnics, stage aflame,
Just please don't let them sing again!
Tear drops, shoes and waterfalls,
These lyrics make no sense at all.
A wind machine for tousled locks,
A dancer in perspex box.
Block voting countries will not alter;
At least we'll get twelve points from Malta.
A singing doctor, pretty quirky;
A small gay kiss to piss off Turkey.
And fashions that were all the rage
In nineteen eighty two. Key Change!
Accordions and ukulele –
Some songs shouty, others waily –
And earnest looks of concentration
Verging nearer constipation.
Tits and teeth and too much tan;
And where the fuck is Azerbaijan?