Filthy, Disgusting Song Lyrics

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I got home the other day to find the wife in a swoon on the sofa. After administering smelling salts, she managed to tell me that she’d fainted away while listening to a song by somebody called Lyrica Anderson, which contained such unspeakable smut as ‘suck this pussy through these panties yeah, ah got a kitty shaved for you bae’. I had to put her to bed with a glass of warm milk, and she’s still in a state of considerable nervous agitation.

Sadly such vileness is a symptom of the degeneracy of modern society, along with mobile phones, drugs, trainers and fast food. I first became aware of this phenomenon back in the 80s, with Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s horrible ‘Relax’ *shudder*, and the likes of ‘relax, don’t do it, when you wanna come, but shoot it in the right direction’. Utterly appalling.

It’s nothing new of course. I mean, take this revolting example from the 40s;

You could be forgiven for thinking that smutty lyrics are a symptom of post war moral decline, along with teenage sex, teddy boys and rock n’ roll, but you’d be wrong. I mean, just have a listen to these examples from the 30s;

If this doesn’t make you want to vomit nothing will. This stuff’s been around since people began writing songs. We are lost in a stinking sewer of moral turpitude. If Mary Whitehouse was alive, she’d be turning in her grave.

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Nominated by Ron Knee.

89 thoughts on “Filthy, Disgusting Song Lyrics”

  2. The master of innuendo, in Britain anyway:

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VypRHitKnWk

    Going on several decades the man who wrote “Young Girl” died a few weeks ago “You’d better run girl, you’re far too young girl”. I have forgotten his name, but it was a song David Blunkett used to sing to Yvette Cooper in her gymslip.

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  5. I well remember that filth ‘The day we went to bang her’

    ‘and on the way back
    she showed me her twat
    and I shot my load in my trousers’

    I think they are the words. Filth.

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  6. Well I never….

    If I lived in Tunbridge Wells I would be disgusted 😂

    Ron Knee with back to back cuntings 👏👏👏

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  7. I remember 2 Live Crew back in the 80s. Rap has the vast majority of loathsome degenerate lyrics and that’s because those who say them are the same.
    Our nation is becoming the Dark Continent II.
    We seem to always celebrate a new low.
    Fuck it let’s just finish it quick, Harris 2024!!

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  8. Point of order, Ron.

    If Mary Whitehouse were alive I think she would be doing rather more than turning in her grave.

    Screaming, cursing God, tearing her fingers to shreds possibly, but tutting at naughty song lyrics? Probably not.

    I know what you meant, though.

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    • If Mary Whitehouse were still alive she would probably say:

      “This Friday afternoon, we sat as a family and viewed an ISAC nomination that started at 3 o’clock, and it was the filthiest, most disgusting cunting I have seen for a very long time.”

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      • She would also issue a plea to the Archbishop of Canterbury to keep filth off Cliff Richard.

    • Thanks JP

      I’m aware that some cunters think that things have been getting a bit heavy on here of late, so I’ve been looking to lighten things up a bit.

      Hope these work.

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      • Hey Ron,

        The world is going to hell in a hand basket and you go all Cunt Engine on us!

        Don’t blame me when the Caliphate comes to the newly renamed Mecca-on-the-Thames.

        Pretty soon you’ll all be sleeping with your feet pointed toward Middlesex.

        “I say old chap. Can you direct me to the nearest snackbar?

  11. ‘dirty, dirty, dirty’
    Mary Whitehouse, on Radio 4’s ‘From Beyond the Grave’ yesterday

    ‘when I saw this cunting I wet the bed’
    Justin Welby, on ‘Good Morning Britain’ earlier

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  15. Excellent nom Ron. This was made for Miserable as I bet he has a whole back catalogue of filth, filth and more filth.

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      • He’s probably got some music on at the allotment right now. Burt next door complaining about these “young hoodlums and their music”.

      • Indeed LL.

        He won’t turn it down though, he loves his Mantovani blaring out while he’s cleaning off his spuds.

      • Indeed LL.

        You know he won’t turn it down though.He loves his Mantovani blaring out while he’s cleaning his spuds off.

  19. How about something a little more subtle and (perhaps) slightly more dignified that still has a bit of vulgarity.

    Here’s the incomparable Judy Henske with a live version of the Bessie Smith classic, “Empty Bed Bules.”

    https://youtu.be/S6ZDMP-cZ7g?si=wiJYnSGGzYSguxq

    This nomination should be archived. Thomas and the Cunt Engines Greatest Hits. Vol. 1

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    • “Listen to this then
      It was on the good ship Venus
      By Christ, ya should’ve seen us
      The figurehead was a whore in bed
      And the mast, a mammoth penis
      The captain of this lugger
      He was a dirty bugger
      He wasn’t fit to shovel shit
      From one place to another
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      There was fuck all else to do
      Captain’s name was Morgan
      By Christ, he was a gorgon
      Ten times a day sweet tunes he’d play
      On his fuckin’ organ
      The first mate’s name was Cooper
      By Christ he was a trooper
      He jerked and jerked until he worked
      Himself into a stupor
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      There was fuck all else to do
      Hold on
      Give it some bollocks
      The second mate was Andy
      By Christ, he had a dandy
      ‘Til they crushed his cock on a jagged rock
      From cumming in the brandy
      The cabin boy was Flipper
      He was a fuckin’ nipper”
      stuffed his ass with broken glass
      And circumcised the skipper
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      There was fuck all else to do
      Ahoy Jimmy
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      There was fuck all else to do
      The Captain’s wife was Mabel
      To fuck she was not able
      So the dirty shits, they nailed her tits
      Across the barroom table
      The Captain had a daughter
      Who fell in deep sea water
      Delighted squeals we knew the eels
      Had found ‘er sexual quarters
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      There was fuck all else to do
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin’
      Friggin’ in the riggin

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  21. ” You eat your dinner, eat your pork and beans
    I eat more chicken than any man ever seen, yeah, yeah
    Im a backdoor man, whoa
    The men don’t know
    But the little girls understand ”

    The Doors,
    I was shocked when I figured out what chicken was.
    I was reading the Beano at the time

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  22. I do like to be beside the seaside,oh I do like to be beside the seeeaa, where the brass bands play tiddley om pom pom🎶….nowt more filthy than a bit of tiddley om pom pom 😩 especially when accompanied by a rather large stick of solid cock err sorry rock 👀

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  23. FGTH’s Relax gloryfied bottybashing. The BBC banned it a the time. If it were released today, the Beeb would play it 24/7 and have it as the national anthem.

    Another revolting one is ‘Pull Up To The Bumper’ by Grace Jones.
    All about chocolate knobs and all that.

    And ‘Stray Cat Blues’ off Beggars Banquet shows the Stones love of jailbait, long before Bill Wyman’s antics with 13 year old Mandy Smith. ‘Stray Cat Blues’ showed thar Wyman wasn’t the only Stone who liked it underage.

    ‘I can see that you’re fifteen years old
    No, I don’t want your I.D’

    And – in Stones live versions – the age in the song went lower than 15. Sometimes Mick would sing ’14’ or even ’13’.

    And in live versions of the now verboten in the woke era ‘Brown Sugar’, Jagger used to sing ‘Brown Sugar. How come you taste so good? Brown Sugar. Just like a young boy should.’

    Creepy rubber lipped cunt.

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    • Big hit entendres of yesteryear …

      ‘My Boy Lollipop’

      ‘(Goin’) Downtown’ …

      ‘Come on Eileen’

      I set down some lyrics to another little ditty but it’s gone to moderation. I think I see why, since, .. hopefully it’ll clear later.

      (Macc Lad’s, anyone?)

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    • On the Pretty Things’ first album there’s a song called ’13 Chester Street’ which was the address where they lived in London. Selected lyrics :-

      “How old are you babe? How old are you babe?
      I love your smile, I love your face
      If you’re under age, gonna love you the same
      I just don’t care”

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  24. oh fuck it, it’s Fiday evening .. let me treat you all to The Macc Lad’s “Fellatio Nelson”

    *ahem*

    🎵 Let me tell you about the worst blow job I ever had,
    (It was alright, actually, it wasn’t that bad)
    If you just want the smeg licking off your bell end
    There’s a tart in Lancashire I’ll recommend
    She’ll do it in the pub, you don’t have to go to bed
    She’ll even put a beer towel on top of her head
    And get a round in if you keep her well fed
    Fellatio Nell, son, you won’t like the smell, son
    Gangrene and death come across in her breath, Fellatio Nell, son.

    I was watching the final on the TV, when the smell of a urinal wafted over to me
    I thought of open sewers and unflushed bogs,
    But the smell of manure was coming out of her gob
    No body’s snogged her since ’71
    Coz her gob’s always full of somebody’s come
    And there’s seven types of dick cheese under her tongue

    Fellatio Nell, son, you won’t like the smell, son
    She’ll gobble up your scrote and fit it down her throat, Fellatio Nell, son.

    Running sores round her cakehole, but I took the chance
    You can’t see her face when its in your underpants
    She’s swallowed more foreskins than a Yid doctor’s bucket
    She sees a bulging crotch, she just has to suck it

    Fellatio Nell, son. You won’t like the smell, son
    She can suck your bollock through the hole in your cock, Fellatio Nell, son.

    She can drool on your tool faster than blinking
    She won’t even mind if you carry on drinking
    She’ll even put a beer towel on top of her head
    And get a round in if you keep her well fed

    Nobody’s snogged her since ’72, her gob’s always full of somebody’s tool
    Fuck off down the chemists get some listerine
    Your breath smells like the creature from the black latrine

    She’ll clean out your Jap’s eye with the tip of her tongue
    Eat the worms round your warhead if you’re very well hung
    Her face is always buried in somebody’s flies
    But she had to take her teeth out to accomodate my size … 🎵

    https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dRNGy7YolY4&pp=ygUQTWFjYyBsYWRzIG5lbHNvbg%3D%3D

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      • Cheers, Ron .. on reflection whoever posted the lyrics as pasted & copied by me [for this] … didn’t see the Horatio Nelson simile, thus the “Fellatio Nell, son” part is is in there arseways.

        But I think the overall gist shines through.

  25. Never mind songs, what about the smut that used to be on Kiddies TV.

    I refer you to
    Captain Pugwash
    Magic Roundabout.

    Pure filth!

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    • Roger the Cabin Boy.

      And what about Rainbow?
      Bungle in his pyjamas at bed time. Then he’s running around Billy Bollocks during the day.

      I also heard that Jane was a bit of a goer. I heard she had both Rod and Freddie. Straight up.

      I wonder if the young Matthew Corbett escaped her clutches? Mind you, at the time, I reckon I wouldn’t have said no to her either.

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      • And Seaman Staines!

        Zebedee, twirling his mustache ” time for bed, Florence”

        My girls used to say ” what are you laughing at?”

  28. I want this ditty carved into my cherub encrusted pure white marble burial tomb

    “Close your legs love, your meat smells.
    But it keeps the flies off me chips.
    I took the crack to the flicks just the other night,
    We were groating on the barrow, everything were alright,
    Then the smell like a dog took me mind from sex,
    I said “Close your legs!”
    She whispered softly in my ear,
    But all I want to do is go and drink some beer,
    Then she did something I didn’t understand,
    She didn’t want a fill, she tried to hold me hand.
    “Do you love me?”
    “I fuck you don’t I?”
    “Do you love me?”
    “I fuck you don’t I?”
    “Do you you love me?”
    “Oh, why? Give over.”
    I were right confused over what she said,
    So I supped ten pints down t’old Bear’s Head
    And just as I was getting a taste for it,
    Some crack walked in and it was fuckin’ fit.
    So I shouted “hey up, love”
    Turned on the charm,
    Showed her me belly and tattoos on me arm,
    I said “don’t go to Limmogy’s, have chips instead””

    Macc Lads

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  30. Ron, just to let you know that I’ve nominated you for a Nobel prize, masterful!, If Obamo can get one your a running dead cert. I salute your insight.

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