Based on Switzerland 1992

Was watching Eurovision
When to my big surprise
I felt a bomb explode
In between my thighs

San Marino Man

Buzzing like a bumble
Who are you?
Is this what they mean
By coup-de-foudre*?
Oh you'd be perfect for me
Even though you're off-key

San Marino Man

With your dated song of yesteryear
Chills are taking over me, my dear
Monsieur, take me in your arms
Teleport me to Mars

You're such a delight
I'd sure love to call you anytime
Vision in white
Go sway those hips, you're so god damn fine

San Marino Man

Humming like a bluebird
Who are you?
Is this what they mean
By coup-de-foudre*?
I crumble when you're counting in Turkish
Oh gosh, you're so quirkish!
Monsieur, I am so lonely
Please, don’t take it slowly

You're such a delight
I confess you got me in a stitch
Vision in white
Think you could fall for this skinny bitch?

San Marino Man

Growling like a watchdog
Who are you?
Is this what they mean
By coup-de-foudre*?
I hear that you're a dentist?
Rescue me
Come, fill my cavity!
Monsieur, fata morgana
Make me say na Na NAAAAAA

*love at first sight

Based on Finland 1968

In India – bumped into a cow
Not quite sure how, not driving fast
I barely nudged it, heard a moo, shrugged and thought it was fine
But when I looked round
Was shocked to find it on the ground:

I killed a cow! That’s me now in the manure
My guts for garters they’ll skewer – a godless, wicked wrongdoer
Oh holy cow! I’m stuck in Udder Pradesh:
They’ll prob’ly put me to death! I must dispose of the evidence

’Kay, where to start – reverse the car
Boom! Cow’s soon entombed, stuffed in the trunk
But now what? That’s a ton of meat. Slowly it dawns on me:
Free burgers for tea!
Ate two or three each night this week

All that fresh cow! Those Hindus’ love is misplaced
No point it going to waste, not now I’ve gotten a taste
For sacred cow – minced, stewed or curried with peas
It’s all I’ve started t’eat. In fact I’m running short. Where’s my car?

I swear I’ve tried to give it up. Wonder ’bout my success?
Well, hazard a guess.
Despite the mess, I must confess:

I’ve killed more cows! Just can’t resist the allure
The gods won’t notice, I’m sure, if there are five or ten fewer
Don’t have a cow! We worship one and the same:
Just grill mine over’a flame. No need to get annoyed.

What’s your beef?

Based on Cyprus 1986

There's a feast of frost no-one knows
During winter season, at half moon
Colder, but in July/June
You'll miss out, and sleep at higher cost

My friend Helga sent my by post
"Come next year, Elpida, you foodie"
An invitation, goodie!
Packed my coat, left Athens, here I go

Þorra, Þorrablót
Don't do the Ring Road
Stay in town and skip the northern lights tour
Þorra, Þorrablót
Eat till you explode
From the buffet stuffed with Þorramatur

Some of the unique offers are
Fat of whale from Húnaþing Vestra
Moistened like days ancestral
With sour milk inside a stuffy jar

There's a slice of jellied sheep's toe
Lamb's blood bread, a haddock's dried spleen and
Hákarl, a shark from Greenland
Left to rot inside a dirty hole

Þorra, Þorrablót
Boiled head of a goat
Do not let its hollow look disgust you
Þorra, Þorrablót
Liver mixed with oats
Odour takes a minute to adjust to

Ovine, ovine, ovine testicles
Are still boiling in the kettle, bring them now-now-now-now
All the, all the, all the cats are gone
Well they must be in the cake, I'll eat it now-now-now-now

Þorra, Þorrablót
Sickness to your throat?
Wash it down with Brennivín, like car fuel
Þorra, Þorrablót
Also, I must note:
It's okay to cough out swallowed down wool

Þorra, Þorrablót
"Vile" is a wrong quote
Written by a tasteless Brit, I'm quite sure
Þorra, Þorrablót
Do it again? Totes
This is the most magical of nætur

Based on Denmark 2019

As birds of a feather go
This next one’s a pillowcase
Though lyrics are all abound
A problem we all must face

Pretty out of touch
It all becomes too much
We should just admit as such

And almost paranoid
We all now must avoid
Lyric-dupes or get annoyed

Angel-Chiara…
Angel-Chiara, angel-chia-rah!
Angel-Chiara…
Angel-Chiara, angel-chia-rah!
Angel-Chiara-chiara-chiara-chiara, Angel-chiara-chiara-angel
Angel-chia, oh, angel-chia, oh
Angel-Chiara-Chiara-Chiara-rah!

As far as solutions go
This one’s fairly elegant
For when you are in the know
You can be more eloquent…

…(with) other songs you choose
Less likely then to lose
Joyfulness for me and you

Before your lyrics bake
The choice is yours to make
Risk the dupe or pick anew

Angel-Chiara…
Angel-Chiara, angel-chia-rah!
Angel-Chiara…
Angel-Chiara, angel-chia-rah!
Angel-Chiara-chiara-chiara-chiara, Angel-chiara-chiara-angel
Angel-chia, oh, angel-chia, oh
Angel-Chiara-Chiara-Chiara-rah!

Même si tu ne comprends pas
La règle est pour t’aider
C’est grâce aux anges-claires
Que toi tu es informé

Ähnen sich zu nah’
Da kommt die Clara ja
Glaub’ mir, es ist besser so

De briller, du har på
de gør dig helt blind så
Denne tekst slog mig K.O.

Cet ange est une Clara
Cet ange est une Clara, une Clara d’un ange
Cet ange est une Clara
Cet ange est une Clara, une Clara d’un ange
C’est une Clara-clara-clara-clara, Cet ange est une clara-clara
L’ange, c’est, oui, l’ange c’est
Une Clara-trala-lala-Clara-ra!

Based on Denmark 1986

Out on the piss
Said I couldn’t stay for longer
You disagreed, that’s all right

Stayed up for you
Said you’d have one more? You liar
I see the truth
As you stumble through the door

You are full of wine
Nodding slowly, drooling slightly
Randy little smile, leering too
With that look in your eye
I bet you’re thinking you're in luck here
But I could use my beauty sleep tonight

You said you’d text
You sent an aubergine emoji
That wasn’t what I had planned

Put down the beer
And no, I won’t make you a sandwich
What makes you think I enjoy your roaming hands?

You are full of wine
Hard to be seductive
When you’re looking at my face, seeing two
So don’t act like it’s fine
The traffic cone you brought back with you
Is getting action more than you tonight

Then you get all maudlin
Say your love is real
I tell a bedtime story and you try to grab a feel

I can see that
(I can smell that)

You are full of wine
Or you brushed your teeth with Merlot
Couldn’t get it up if you tried

You are full of wine
Can’t you see your talk is boring?
Slurring every line, pleading too
You’re pawing at my thigh
But any moment you’ll be snoring
So take your socks off and turn out the light

You’re lucky you’ve an understanding wife

...Well, okay then, maybe just tonight

Based on Cyprus 1989

You see there’s no deceit
We were sceptical too

But we saw our son get his jabs, then started acting mad:

He sings The Real Me dawn ’til dusk!

You cannot trust the doctors
Despite their kind words and degrees

They never even mentioned
These horrid side-effects: he also sings Brazil

Don't opt for vaccination:
A manifesto for our times
So says a site we've googled

It's full of super tips, may even have a cure

It seems too much hygiene has made our children weak

To:
- Bring back kids' good health
- Cure mental lunacy

That webpage shows how to proceed:

Bring sprogs around on Tuesdays
Exposing them to other's germs

Should they remain quite healthy
These subtle extra tasks will kickstart their immune:

Spread snot on the halloumi
And share it out cut up in cubes

Then sneeze on the tzatziki
While telling everyone the double dip's approved

With luck one of them gets
Sniffles (or much worse)

Don't bin that crap they cough up
No, store it in a jar

Mix phlegm with kounoupidi
And use a spoon licked clean by dogs

Stuff pus inside the koupes
And serve it dipped in spit…

You'll hear the kids scream "ooooo"

We recommend this treatment
Our son's song taste is much improved

He now sings Aspro Mavro
He's almost good as new, though still he sings Shiru

Let's sing aloud these lyrics
To friends and strangers, far and near

"A pox on all your children!"

Explain that it is not

The insult they'd assume

Based on Netherlands 1964

I feel so aggrieved
About how I'm perceived
How I'm regarded
It brings me frustration

It's not all my fault
That I'm sat on the shelf
That I get no touch
Unloved and unwanted

Physique, don't make a man
Sure I like my scran
And I've no workout regimen

If told all that cheese
Would stop me being squeezed
I'd not have started
To eat all my feelings

Aye, I may be substantial
Just means there's more to love
While I'm far from petite
My heavy heart adds on the pounds

It's not just my weight
That seems to irritate
The way I'm acting
You may call it 'flaming'

The men I have met
Called me effeminate
I tell them please gurl
Straight acting's self-hatred

But wait, there's more to come
Mum's from Vietnam
My father Indonesian

They think that this means
Shortcomings in my genes
But I am gifted
Don't know what they're missing

< self-pity waltz >

But wait, I've a match
Yass someone wants my snatch
I'm so excited
Just wait while I sign in

Oh no, I must block him

 

he's FAT, FEMME AND ASIAN

Based on San Marino 2019

 

Finding singers? No chore!
Since this year's record score
If you want to compete
We've got standards to meet
(It's a change, we know)

Thank you for your interest in SMRTV!
Want to sing in Rotterdam? Not quite that easy
Songs, once scarce, are flooding in, so to choose the best
We've compiled some questions here to put you to the test

Have you an exceptional capacity for shame?
When it all goes tits up, will you gladly take the blame?
Are you Valenti-NO? Take off that disguise
Passed this part? Then please proceed to question number five

Our questionnaire is extensive, as you'll see
So, lay all bare
An example: Could you sing dressed as a tree?
Covered in fleas?
Good! Now agree:
To sing a Siegel banger when he dies
Duet with a former Peppermint
Take Maltese bribes
Or just stand by

See, we said it was tough!
Wasn't merely a bluff
Wait, there's still more stuff...

Facebook's out; this year we've got a song about VK (Thanks, Vlad)
Not your style? Try this duet with Moira Stafrace (Say "Tghidlix")
How 'bout Lys Assia? Yes, we know she's dead (R.I.P.)
You can simply sing next to her hologram instead (Tasteful? Sure.)

Please understand
Though you're representing someone else's land
We expect devotion to the task at hand
So, here's what's planned:
A robot band
Say yes and you're a true Sammarinese
It's so unbecoming to throw shade and get stroppy
Like Jenny B

Time now for the kicker
(You've got to convince me)
Let's discuss the figures
(Not 1in360)
Time to check your credit
(Low? Then you won't get it)
Don't be shy, we'll check it
Here's what's we can debit:

Fifteen cents

It's nah, nah, nah.
I'm afraid to say your entry's been declined.
You've no parmesan or ham to pay the fine?
No Georgian wine?
End of the line!
You can't perform for us, but cheer up, please
There's a place that welcomes all eccentric tendencies
And entry's free
It's ALC!

(Author's note: due to a total lack of response to their international campaign trying to get someone, ANYONE, to embarrass themselves represent the country in the Eurovision Song Contest next year, SMtv San Marino has commissioned a special ALC reprise to highlight their terrible plight.)

This is more than we can bear and nobody seems to care
No-one sent an answer to our ad
If you all leave us bereft, we'll have only one choice left
You'll agree that would be bad.

Save San Marino from Valenti-NO!
Please help us out, our reputation's up the spout
Don't make us ring her, we need a singer
Why must we be the country that you laugh about?

Irene Sheer or Ebonique?
Carol Rich or Cocktail Chic?
Bebi Dol or Paradise Oskar?
And as you can surely guess, not a single one said "Yes"
We've been searching near and far

We tried Peppino and Sandra Simo
Youddiph prefers to stay at home and wash her hair
Called Zymboulakis, Takis Biniaris
Alsou said she would rather give birth to a chair

Not one amico for San Marino
We've tried the A-list, B-list, all the way to Z[ed]
Spent hours sieving through artists living
(And yes, we even asked some who are sadly dead)

Save San Marino! There's still no fee though
Can't pay you Euros, bahts, manats, riels, drams, or dongs
But we've got vino and cappuccino
Sing for us next year – what could possibly go wrong?
(Just promise: never sing the Social Network Song)

“Once I saw a goat with a cow face. Really. It was the weirdest thing ever. It seemed a normal goat, except that it had some black spots, and the head like a cow. And it was before digital camera, so I don’t have a photo.”
– Scami, 2018

Visitors leave in despair
Making scared signs of the cross
Cross at the sight of our goat
Calf

Children walk in innocent
Walk out feeling traumatised
But that changed when I met Scami
Thank goat

Scami asked me, the zookeeper, “Why, sir?”
“Is there no God? It’s a brute”
It’s a question I didn’t answer
In front of us was all the proof

Goat born with a cow’s head, the other goats just stare
None had ever pet it, but it so wanted love
Though it longed for people, customers all wanted it gone
“That goat belongs in a cupboard”

Scami seemed no different, at first look so appalled
Kept her children distant, told them, “Go pat the horse”
But she saw no evil, just a lonely beast none would stroke
And Scami petted the cowgoat

[Scami:] (And that’s when I knew I would set it free.)

“How much can I give you for
That sad goat the rest ignore?”
I said, “Ma’am, sorry I can’t sell”

“How I wish you’d come last week
That was when we sold it cheap
It’s heading soon to a rancher
To be meat”

She looked sheepish, the goat just looked cowish
It broke my heart and hers too
So she left after petting a llama
That night I locked up, I felt so blue

Came back the next morning to a hole in the fence
Just the cowgoat missing, she’d rushed to its defence
She would see no evil come to harm the beastly cowgoat
That most said ought to be covered

Now through Transylvania, elusive cowgoats stroll
Hidden by the forests in which they’ve found a home
Scami is the reason cowgoats won their freedom to roam
Too ugly to be re-captured

Oh oh, oh oh
When Scami rescued the cowgoat
Oh oh, oh oh
Oh oh, oh oh
Cowgoats don’t want to be captive
Oh oh, oh oh
Oh oh, oh oh
Cowgoats are not so attractive
Oh oh, oh oh
Oh oh, oh oh
Then Thomas danced with the cowgoat