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    I've never climbed a mountain
    Of a particularly challenging size
    I've never run a bank
    Reserve or otherwise
    I've never been the captain of a team
    And I’ll know you’ll be surprised
    To find I didn’t invent the Internet
    Haven’t reached a double A rating yet
    Abolishing Apartheid seemed to work
    For F. W. de Klerk

    I may not be a powerful
    Or impressive looking man
    But I can guarantee that if you hire me
    I won’t cost you thirty thousand grand
    And if you are B.T.
    I will do the gig for free
    If you’ll just send out a man
    To sort out my broadband

    I’m not married to Paul McCartney
    I am not an amputee
    I’ve never played at Wembley Stadium
    Or made poverty history
    I haven’t yet been knighted
    Nor received my MBE
    I find it hard to leave my living room
    Yet alone go walking on the moon
    Never studied the seven favourite tactics of
    Garry Kasparov

    But I can sing and play piano
    I’ll even do it at the same time
    I aim to please with melodies
    And generally amusing rhymes
    So why not hire me and get a nice song
    Rather than paying Lance Armstrong
    Fifty thousand quid to ramble on about cancer
    And bikes
    Boring!

    I never ruled a superpower
    Or did the naughty business with a cigar
    I’ve got no funky birthmark and I didn’t start
    Democratic reform in the USSR
    But let’s be honest would you rather eat cake
    With an ex-head of state
    Or a nice Australian chap singing songs about inflatable boobs?

    I may not be real famous
    Or particularly good
    But you should hire me while I’m still a C
    I might be the next Victoria Wood
    And if you are B.T.
    I will do a show for free
    If you’ll just send out a man
    To sort out my bloody broadband

    I can’t shout like Gordon Ramsey
    Or chase shadows like Hans Blix
    Can’t bowl flippers like Shayne Warne
    Nor have I flipped as many chicks
    I’m not as honourable as William Hague
    I don’t dig on politics
    And I can’t inspire you to strive
    To be more present in your daily lives
    Can’t alter human nature in a night
    Like Anthony Robins might
    Like Tony Robins might

    But I’ve got a quaint Australian accent
    That’s must be worth a beverage
    I’m not saying I’m the peer of Germaine Greer
    Or Dame Edna Everage
    But everybody loves a true blue Aussie
    Like the croc hunter, Steve
    He wore his bleeding heart on his khaki sleeve
    And I can play piano without looking
    That must be worth a couple of grand
    I’ve not got he CV
    Of Boutros Boutros-Ghali
    Nelson Mandela or Kofi Annan
    But let’s be honest, all these luminaries
    Rambling on about peace
    Is not as much fun as some karaoke

    There’s a lady who’s sure
    All that glitters is Gold
    And she’s buying a stairway to heaven
    When she gets there she knows
    If the stores are all closed
    She can seek some legal advice
    From Ernst and Young

    See I do gig-specific references
    I’ll chuck in a couple of relevant lines
    I’ll give a birthday shout
    Or get the Santa hat out
    I’ll even sing you Auld Lang Syne
    Cos I’ll be honest
    See my wife’s eight months gone
    Now we’re on one income
    And we just immigrated and we don’t have any furniture
    I may not be that famous
    Or impressive to anyone
    But you should hire me
    Cos I’m gonna be a daddy and I’ll need to buy nappies for my new born son
    And if you are BT
    I’ll do the gig for free
    If you’ll just send out a man
    To take us to Ikea in his BT van
    Buy a crap cot and a Swedish pram
    But on the way home we can sort out a plan
    To sort out my fucking Broadband
    My fucking Broadband

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