Morrissey Stole All My Ideas


As some of you may know, Steven Patrick Morrissey was once the singer in The Smiths, and has gone on to achieve some success as a solo artist. Now, that’s fine – apart from the fact that 90% of what he dishes out as his “own” material, was in fact thought up by me, Simon. Now that obviously rankles – wouldn’t it irritate you?

I have to hold my hands up – how he did it, I don’t know. He’s clever, I’ll give him that.
But what keeps me going, is that one day – and it’s not too far away – I will be feted for my talents, and Morrissey will be exposed for the plagiarist he clearly is. That’ll be a good day.


Look at him, he makes me spit, the little shit,
With his receding quiff.
I’d like to hit him on the head, put him in a sack,
And throw him over a cliff.

I could cut his throat with garden shears,
I would impale him on a thousand spears,
Run him over and grind the gears,
Abandon him in the Arctic with Ray Mears.
Morrissey stole all my ideas.

He must have got in at night, late,
Around 1978.
Committing this heinous crime,
In the Spring of 1979.

His whimsical lyrics come from my notebook,
Plots and choruses he took,
That microphone thing I was doing in 1981,
Everything he does, I have done.
All he is saying, I have said before and better,
He stole the lot from me, down to the last letter.

I will hit him with a stick, despite his tears.
Force feed him veal, pig’s trotters and ears,
I’ll make him tell me he’s a queer,
Morrissey stole all my ideas.

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