Based on Sweden 2004

Come on, BBC – you know the way we feel!

You promised us a new start, but it’s just more of the same.
It’s already October and we haven’t heard a name!
So we’ll just start a rumour to help make up your minds… Oh!

Hurts? No! It’s Hurts? Really? Hurts?!
’Cause the Scissor Sisters might if it’s right that they’re game.
You know that it’s Hurts? No! It’s Hurts? Really, Hurts?
In the end it doesn’t matter – the odds are the same
that either will be persuaded by the fee.
Or come first. Which is worse.

You tease us with a “huge star” and we’ll assume you’ve lied,
cos we’d get Marti Pellow with an unreleased B-side,
pretending to be sober. Afraid that just won’t do. So…

Hurts? No! It’s Hurts? Really? Hurts?!
It’ll prob’ly be denied in the cold light of day.
There’s no way it’s Hurts. Olly Murs said, “No, sir!”
Although he’d be good, Will Young said no, and he’s a gay.
We can’t be picky: we’ll go with Morrissey.
Bugger Hurts!

No, can’t even get Sinitta – not after this year’s “shock upset”.
It’s not what you intend but (it’s not what you intend but) oh! You do this all the time!

(Hurts? No! It’s Hurts? Really? Hurts?!)
Oh! Did we really hear that right? Proper final again?!
You know, that could work. Not just work – really work!
We’re not talking Song for Europe. No, nothing that lame.
They’ve promised there’ll be song-writing royalty.
True experts. Who needs Hurts? (Who needs Hurts?)
Top five for sure in Stockholm. Mmm, that’s a cert! (Cert, that’s a cert, that’s a cert.)

Based on Ukraine 2006 [NF Version]

6AM, Aldergrove
Bottles of prosecco
Drinking is uncontrolled
Behold!

Summer in Spain, girls week in Santa Ponsa
Live the high life, flash boys from Trim
Friday from eight, we’ll have an all-night bender
You can be sure, we’ll get some peen

Fourth floor, try to unpack
Shared bathroom smells like cack
Dream of a fit boy’s sack
We attack!

Sun lounger wars
German towels cast asunder
We are Norn Iron
Red head and mean

Screams from next door
What the hell’s bothering her
That dozy whore
Brought no sunscreen

Don’t worry Maeve. Flirt with those horny blokes there
Forget the store, they’ll lend you cream
I told you have faith, fine it’s not Ambre Solaire
But you’ve procured, factor fifteen

(Gets finger stuck while adjusting sun lounger)

(Girls start playing pool volleyball with boys from Trim)

(Mild heatstroke hallucinations)

Shit the bed Maeve, those blokes have done you over
You’ve decomposed, skin looks like veal
So red – it’s grave! Clear you’re natural ginger
You’ve used obscure bogus sunscreen

Don’t worry babe, we’ll get some aloe vera
Tone down your light purple-ish sheen
Oh! Vitamin K might fix you good and proper
We’ll find a cure, amphetamines?

Just find me a guy, who is into tan lines!

Burn to go brown
You made a nasty blunder
Wrinkles are rife
Begin to peel

Trim boys were gay
Germans were really Dutchmen
Shite week abroad
Down the pan, this goddam, bogus sunscreen

Based on Portugal 2014

Wa wa way, wa way
Wa wa way, wa way

Not mere fashion-smell, it's real father-sell
Have a desire to take you up for a meal
We'll be a kiss-and-tell, a real dapper pair
I have a heart and bod to you I wanna sell

Cos you are my Douwe, oh oh oh ohhh
Yes you are the Douwe, oh oh oh ohhh
You queer-o, yes, you are my gay bi-boy my P.R.
Hell you are my Douwe gobbling eel several times

Oh you are my Douwe woh oohhhh
Douwe Egbertsy Douwe, oh hohhhhh
I want to serve You up with an orange in a jar
And yes I can do that when you take me in your bar

Wa wa way, wa way
Wa wa way, wa way

Douwe's a certain look, bad boy's eye, token meat
Heaven's a car-park dusted under your gay medium
I want to bathe within your corporal punishment
A sexy man, a mini set-up, dirty tear

'Cos it is my Douwe - hooh ooh wwooooh
I still fancy Douwe -- hoh oooh oooh
It's just still Douwe who is turning me around
And it is just Douwe who is making me be loved

I wanna see Douwe - oh hohhhhhh
I'm in love with Douwe - oh hoooooh
A careful screw-up of the middle of the shah: -
It happens round Douwe when he dips into a bath

Wawaahhh weeegh wahweh
Wawaahhh weeegh wahweh

I wanna see Douwe, oh…
Douweeeh, aaaai!

I wanna see you-eh, ohooohhh…
Spend moments with Douwe, wohooooh…
'Cos I perceive you as a soldier in a car
And then stripped naked with a real sense of love

I wanna kiss Douwe , woh hoohhhh
My bouncy fit Douwe, wohhhhoohhh
And I'll see Douwe, common knowledge, he's a man
I've gotta see Douwe, put some cheese on his waaah!

Based on Estonia 2013

Well, what can I say?

You’ve almost completed building this vessel of yours

Standing tall, much like your faith
At more than three hundred cubits
Of gopherwood hue

But I doubt, my love

In your fortitude
Have you ever stopped to think? Or counted the cost?

Where is the forest where we met and fell in love?
Seven tears of sorrow hide themselves from you

“My given task, set by God’s Voice,” you say
“There comes God’s Wrath,” you say

Your gods now speak of animals?!?

“Yes, two by two,” so you say

I’ve been more than a wife
I cultivate land, mend the rafters, while tending your wounds
I don’t mind, I’ll do as you say

Bearing the dust storms you’ve started
With stoic embrace

Yet I doubt, my love

In your certitude
Would you pardon me these thoughts? Or cast them as sins?

Where is the charming man who swept me off my feet?
Seven tears in silence nurse these shoots to grow

“Be quiet and abide God’s Words,” you say
“I have God’s Grace,” you say

You must see how that makes you sound!?!

Where…where is the sense that we can build a world brand new?
Seven tears of horror fear for our sons too

“No wicked words! Obey like us,” they say
“We’re sure he’s right,” they say

My dear I’ve cried a Flood for you

Did your gods task that to me?