CROESY CREM
Lyrics by Roger Coghill
Before the Romans came to Gwent
Or out to Caerleon strode
Our rolling Welsh musicians
Made the rolling Valleys road.
First Ceri with his trumpet
Sounding in perfect pitch
He’d been well blessed by Reverend James
When they found him in the ditch.
Our local vocal talent
Bluesy Susie was her name.
Her highest C could rattle the tea
And break a window pane.
Now Susie has a husband
Of academic fame
Who taught guitar: lads would go far
If Craig was in the frame.
Dear Dave Hobbs’s favourite hobby
Was mending old guitars
And those he made were often played
By stars in bars on Mars.
You should have seen Dave Lewis
Performing on his harp…
His drums, his gueetars and his songs
Were nothing if not sharp.
When Dave falls foul of liquor
Or Felinfoel beer
He’ll often try a Ginster’s Pie
To stop him feeling queer.
We all love Basher Barwood
Despite his wicked sins
Though mighty fears assail your ears
When he bangs upon his skins.
“Shut the duck up” calls Stephen
In proper Jenkins style:
To take in hand the Workshop band
It needs this subtle guile.
Braving the road from Cardiff
Comes Andrew every week
To TJS at Panteg House
With sax most symphonique.
While at the Bush the Baldy Man
And Adrian the Bold
Though very loud, regale the crowd,
With songs both new and old.
The Valleys loved our music:
It echoed round the hills
Our jazz and blues could rock the pews
And shake the daffodils.
The Valleys loved our music
And we’ll remember them
When we do that gig in the Paradise Club
By way of Croesy Crem.