Thou shalt not steal if there is direct victim.
Thou shalt not worship pop idols or follow lost profits.
Thou shalt not take the names of Johnny Cash, Joe Strummer, Johnny Hartman, Desmond Decker, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix or Syd Barrett in vain.
Thou shalt not think any male over the age of 30 that plays with a child that is not their own is a paedophile - Some people are just nice.
Thou shalt not read NME.
Thou shalt not stop liking a band just because they’ve become popular.
Thou shalt not question Stephen Fry.
Thou shalt not judge a book by its cover.
Thou shalt not judge Lethal Weapon by Danny Glover.
Thou shalt not buy Coca-Cola products, thou shalt not buy Nestle products.
Thou shalt not go into the woods with your boyfriend’s best friend, take drugs and cheat on him.
Thou shalt not fall in love so easily.
Thou shalt not use poetry, art or music to get into girls pants - use it to get into their heads.
Thou shalt not watch Hollyoaks.
Thou shalt not attend an open mic and leave before it’s done just because you’ve finished your shitty little poem or song, you self-righteous prick.
Thou shalt not return to the same club or bar week in, week out, just ’cause you once saw a girl there that you fancied but you’re never gonna fucking talk to.

Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals no matter how great they are or were.
The Beatles - Were just a band.
Led Zepplin - Just a band.
The Beach Boys - Just a band.
The Sex Pistols - Just a band.
The Clash - Just a band.
Crass - Just a band.
Minor Threat - Just a band.
The Cure - just a band.
The Smiths - Just a band.
Nirvana - Just a band.
The Pixies - Just a band.
Oasis - Just a band.
Radiohead - they're just a band.
Bloc Party - Just a band.
The Arctic Monkeys - Just a band.
The Next Big Thing - Just a band

Thou shalt give equal worth to tragedies that occur in non-English speaking countries as to those that occur in English speaking countries.
Thou shalt remember that guns, bitches and bling were never part of the four elements and never will be.
Thou shalt not make repetitive generic music, thou shalt not make repetitive generic music, thou shalt not make repetitive generic music, thou shalt not make repetitive generic music.
Thou shalt not pimp my ride.
Thou shalt not scream if you wanna go faster.
Thou shalt not move to the sound of the wickedness.
Thou shalt not make some noise for Detroit.
When I say “Hey” thou shalt not say “Ho.”
When I say “Hip” thou shalt not say “Hop.”
When I say, he say, she say, we say, make some noise - kill me.

*Oh hang on a minute I've forgot were I was - hang on*...

Thou shalt not quote me happy.
Thou shalt not shake it like a polaroid picture.
Thou shalt not wish your girlfriend was a freak like me.
Thou shalt spell the word “Phoenix” P-H-E-O-N-I-X, not P-H-O-E-N-I-X, regardless of what the Oxford English Dictionary tells you.
Thou shalt not express your shock at the fact that Sharon got off with Brad at club last night by saying “Is it.”
Thou shalt think for yourselves.
And thou shalt always, thou shalt always - kill

Love unrequited, robs me of me rest,
Love, hopeless love, my ardent soul encumbers,
Love, nightmare like, lies heavy of me chest,
And weaves itself into my midnight slumbers.

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache and
repose is taboo'd by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to
indulge in, without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire, the bed-clothes conspire of
usual slumber to plunder you:
First your counter-pane goes, and uncovers your toes,
and your sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles, you feel like mixed
pickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking,
And you're hot and you're cross, and you tumble and
toss 'til there's nothing 'twixt you and the
ticking.
Then the bed-clothes all creep to the ground in a heap
and you pick 'em all up in a tangle;
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to
remain at it's usual angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a dose, with
hot eye-balls and head ever aching,
But your slumbering teems with such horrible dreams
that you'd very much better be waking;
For you dream you are crossing the Channel, and
tossing about in a steamer from Harwich,
Which is something between a large bathing machine and
a very small second class carriage,
And you're giving a treat (penny ice and cold meat) to
a party of friends and relations,
They're a ravenous horde, and they all come on board
at Sloane Square and South Kensington Stations.
And bound on that journey you find your attorney
(who started this morning from Devon);
He's a bit undersiz'd and you don't feel surpris'd
when he tells you he's only eleven.
Well you're driving like mad with this singular lad
(by the bye the ship's now a four wheeler),
And you're playing round games, and he calls you bad
names when you tell him that "ties pay the dealer";
But this you can't stand so you throw up your hand,
and you find you're as cold as an icicle;
In your shirt and your socks (the black silk with gold
clocks) crossing Sal'sbury Plain on a bicycle:
And he and the crew are on bicycles too, which they've
somehow or other invested in,
And he's telling the tars all the particulars of a
company he's interested in;
It's a scheme of devices, to get at low prices, all
good from cough mixtures to cables
(Which tickled the sailors), by treating retailers as
though they were all vegetables;
You get a good spadesman to plant a small tradesman
(first take off his boots with a boot tree),
And his legs will take root, and his fingers will
shoot, and they'll blossom and bud like a fruit
tree;
From the green grocer tree you get grapes and green
pea, cauliflower, pine apple and cranberries,
While the pastry cook plant cherry brandy will grant,
apple puffs, and three corners, and banburys;
The shares are a penny and ever so many are taken by
Rothschild and Baring,
And just as a few are allotted to you, you awake
And with a shudder despairing
You're a regular wreck, with a crick in your neck, and
no wonder you snore, for your head's on the floor
And you've needles and pins from your soles to your
shins, and your flesh is acreep, for your left leg's
asleep,
And you've cramp in your toes, and a fly on your nose,
and some fluff in your lung, and a feverish tongue,
and a thirst that's intense,
And a general sense that you haven't been sleeping in
clover;
But the darkness has pass'd, and it's daylight at
last, and the night has been long, ditto, ditto my
song,
And thank goodness they're both of them over!

Ice flow, nowhere to go!
Ice flow, nowhere to go!
Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundra!!!
Check him out

They call him the shrew
Arms in short, then with the claw!

I'm little Johnny frostbite
Movin around
Freezin you up, freezin you down
Like an icicle
Comin in your tent in the dark night scissorbite
Arctic death, infinate night!

Call me tundra boy
Because I move like an arctic lizard!
When the blizzard strikes I disappear like a pipe dream
All that's left is a gleam!
On a tent peg

Boosh, Boosh
Stronger than a moose
Dont lock your doors or we'll come through your rooftop!
Settle back, take your mind off the floor
Cos the boosh is loose and we're a little bit raw!

Ice flow, nowhere to go!
Ice flow, nowhere to go!
Lost in the blinding whiteness of the tundra!!!