'Do be do be doo.'
Allen makes sense at last.
The news that television coverage of Formula 1 is to return to its rightful uninterrupted place on BBC television has been almost unanimously welcomed.
One place in which it probably has not been welcomed is in the capacious bonce of pointless ITV-F1 commentator, Jar-Jar Allen.
Out of respect for Jar-Jar and noting how busy he will be looking for work between now and the end of the season, one of dotdotdotcomma's highly talented lyricists has taken the trouble to pen the following swansong for the bouffanted buffoon, to be sung to the now legendary tune of "My Way", by Paul Anka, a man with a name the cockney-rhyming slang opportunities of which have not gone unnoticed.
So grab yourself a loaded gin, kick back, and enjoy: a song for a w*nker by Paul Anka, Jar-Jar Allen's swansong: the now legendary "My Way".
And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
Hey you, please stop that cheer:
It's very mean, I'm still a person.
I've lived a life that's full.
I've been to each and ev'ry circuit;
But more, much more than this,
I was complete shit.
Complaints, I've had a few;
On how I really like to mention
Ferrari, and Michael too:
They all laughed at my sad devotion.
I planned each tortured speech;
Each mangled metaphor that I made,
But more, much more than this,
With myself I played.
And, yes, I called my son Enzo
I'm still not sure why it offends so.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I fawned and drooled at some old kraut.
I made crap jokes, I called you "folks";
I did it my way.
I've failed, although I tried.
I've had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
Why do you find it so amusing?
To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
"No, oh no oh Christ,
I did it that way".
For what is a man, what has he got?
In my sad case, it's not a lot.
To say the things he thinks he knows;
Then to find out, he really blows.
It's all so sad, I'm such a twat -
I did it my way!
Let's just hope he has fewer comebacks than Old Blue Eyes.
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