Mental Illness isn't Funny

by The Victor Pope Band

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released December 16, 2016

The Victor Pope Band are - Steven Vickers (vocals and guitar), Love Beast (electric guitar, mandolin, melodica and backing vocals), Jess Aslan (synthesizers), Graeme Mackay (bass) and Jon Harley (drums).
All songs written, performed and produced by the Victor Pope Band.
Mastered by Luke Woodbridge.
Cover photo by Claire Stowell.



all rights reserved


The Victor Pope Band Edinburgh, UK

The Victor Pope Band were formed at the arse end of 2012 from the remains of Ginger and the Tramp, Sabai and The Woods. So in a way they're a kind of supergroup. They have been described as quality quirky pop punk, post-punk and sounding a little bit like Jonathan Richman. But I prefer to describe them as Nerd Rock. The real question remains, however, who is Victor Pope...? ... more

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Track Name: Famous
Now some people say that they don't want no fame,
Well integrity's nice but it won't get you laid,
And I do,
Want to get laid.
Give me a yacht and a place in the sun,
You can call me a sell out but that sounds like fun,
And I do,
Want to have fun.

I wanna be famous,
I wanna make lots of money,
I'm not being ironic,
I'm not trying to be funny,
I want groupies coming out of my arse,
But most of all I want validation at last.
(And I'm prepared to kiss Simon Cowell's flabby arse).

Now maybe I'm greedy or just self obsessed,
But I wanna see what Kylie looks like undressed,
Cus I do,
Want her undressed.
I'd eat at the Fat Duck every fucking day,
Blow my own trumpet - pretend that I'm gay,
Cus I do,
Sometimes act gay.

Give me some Botox or liposuction,
I'll build a mansion for Dad and for Mum,
Cus I do,
Love my old Mum.
Stuff me with cocaine 'til my eyeballs bleed,
I'll donate millions to Children in Need,
Cus I do,
Help those in need.

I've been writing songs now for twenty odd years,
It's getting me nowhere - it will end in tears,
And I do,
Want no more tears.
At forty years old I'm over the hill,
But I'll give you magic if you give me pills,
Cus I do,
Sometimes get ill.
Track Name: What if Jesus Christ was a Republican?
What if Jesus Christ was a Republican?
Supporter of the Bush administration?
Well it's a terrifying prospect,
If Christ was not a Democrat,
But what if Jesus Christ was a Republican?

And what if Jesus Christ was a creationist?
Well I suppose he wouldn't be an atheist,
Six thousand years of existence,
Despite overwhelming evidence,
What if Jesus Christ was a creationist?

And what if Jesus Christ was a capitalist?
Robbing from the poor to give to the rich?
Advertising Coca-cola,
Microsoft and Motorola,
What if Jesus Christ was a Capitalist?

But what if Jesus Christ was homo-sexual?
And an arty farty intellectual?
A smoker of fine dope,
Who gave the people hope,
What if Jesus Christ was homo-sexual?

But what if Jesus Christ was a Republican?
What if he was right behind Sarah Palin?
Fucking her up the arse,
For four more years in Iraq,
What if Jesus Christ was a Republican?
Track Name: Susan Boyle is Beautiful
Susan Boyle is beautiful,
Susan Boyle is beautiful,
Susan Boyle is beautiful,
And you are beautiful too.
(And so is Britney Spears)

Now I'm not down with this name calling,
To tell the truth I think it is frankly appalling,
Everybody's jumped up when they should be falling,
In love with Susan Boyle.

She's got a voice like an angel,
And she'll never treat you like a stranger,
So if you're ever contemplating misbehavior,
Think of Susan Boyle.

She rocks the microphone,
She keeps a tidy home,
So if you're ever feeling low,
Think of Susan Boyle.

She gets a lot of stick of Jimmy Carr,
But hosting panel shows isn't hard,
Unlike being a pop-opera star,
Just like Susan Boyle.

Now if I ever have a baby,
And that baby is a lady,
I think that possibly just maybe,
I'll call her Susan Boyle.

She is truly an inspiration,
I wish that she was my relation,
Oh what a wonderful creation,
That dame named Susan Boyle.

I think she's just as good as Jesus,
Although she'll see this as blasphemous,
But I am truly a believer,
The world needs Susan Boyle.

So if you ever hear me sing this,
Please don't think I'm being ironic,
You're a legend of our times and I mean it,
Three cheers for Susan Boyle.
Track Name: Self Sabotage
For once in my life,
Things look like they're finally going my way,
I just had a pretty good minute,
Which could well turn out to be a perfect day,
Then out comes that nagging voice inside of me,
And all those niggling little self doubts I thought I'd left behind me,
Are suddenly looming large,
Self sabotage!

My band just played a cracking gig,
Maybe we will be a big success,
And the man from the record company,
Was apparently quite impressed,
Then I think it's maybe time we tried something experimental,
He just looks right back at us as if we've all gone mental,
It's just one step too far,
Self sabotage!

Believe me I'm no pessimist,
I don't take like too serious,
But every hit's a near miss,
My head is in the gutter - my feet are in the stars,
Self sabotage!

I finally found a woman,
Who loves me for who I am,
We enjoy intimate moments,
And I rise to the occasion,
Then out comes an image that I really didn't need,
Has anyone hear heard of a film called Human Centipede?
More of a turn off than Nigel Farage,
Self sabotage!
Track Name: The Pacifist
I wanna be a good man,
I wanna do right,
I wanna see the whole world,
Walk into the light,
And I don't wanna go down,
Without a good fight,
If I wasn't such a pacifist (coward),
I could make it all right.

I'm a walking disaster,
I suppose you could say,
But I know what I'm after,
It's just a long way away,
And when I think I can taste it,
On the tip of my tongue,
There's a subtle reminder,
Of what I haven't done.

Cus happiness and laughter,
Are the rewards that you get,
In the here and now here-after,
And a life without regret,
But the pain it takes to earn it,
I'd rather forget,
Cus I'm a pretty slow learner,
With a lot to confess.
(So what do you suggest?)
Track Name: My Ugandan Girlfriend
I don't think I can afford my Ugandan Girlfriend,
Who thought falling in love would cost so much?
We only knew each-other for a weekend,
And now I'm giving it all to stay in touch.
(And I honestly don't think that it's enough)

She's definitely worth it,
There's no doubt about that,
A smile that could launch a thousand ships,
But it's a logistical nightmare,
To get her over here,
Immigration laws that make me sick.

She seems to think,
I'm an eccentric millionaire,
When it took me every penny,
Just to get me back over there.

I guess we'll have to rely on our imaginations,
To keep us entertained while I'm out there,
That and internet films that we can download,
While she plays with her phone,
And scratches her hair.

I wanted to impress her with a bungee jump,
But that's something I cannot afford,
To tell you the truth,
That doesn't make me too upset,
Because being bored,
Is preferable to being dead.
Track Name: Venus in Tweed
No-one seems to get turned on these days,
Without an assortment of whips and chains,
I'll be just grateful if I ever get laid,
But I don't see that happening,
Cus my tastes are reasonably vanilla,
No unhealthy fascination with serial killers,
Rather than the lead track I sometimes like the filler,
And I don't enjoy a battering.

Everyone seems so hung up on suffering,
Whatever happened to kissing and a-cuddling?

Auto-erotic asphyxiation,
What a mouth-full - hand me my PlayStation,
But Britain is now an S and M nation,
Fifty shades of decay,
Banning butt plugs is not my intention,
So what if you're turned on by constipation?
I've not got that much imagination,
What can I say?

Now I don't condone excessive mothering,
But who in their right minds finds tenderness so troubling?

It's happy hour for the golden showers,
Sub or dom well you can't go wrong,
The new buzzword - what's your safe-word?
Get a psychotic wife or a jailbird.

Lipstick marks trade place for cuts and bruises,
Gimp costumes - it just confuses me,
It's all somewhat detestable,
People doing it in lay-by's,
While other people touch themselves nearby,
Micheal Hutchins might not have died,
If he'd been a bit more sensible.
Track Name: I'm Not There
Everybody's crawling up the walls onto the ceiling,
There's an over dose in bucket loads of positive feeling,
All the guys (girls) are making music - getting their rocks off,
All the girls (guys) are loosing it and taking their clothes off,
Someone brought an elephant and painted him blue,
And on the doormat there's a diplomat from Timbuktu,
It's the party of the decade but you won't see me,
Cus I'll be stuck at home watching shit TV.

If I was more self assured I wouldn't care,
But at all the best parties I'm not there.

There's some shit being talked and some lines going round,
And everyone here is basically sound,
There's been no trouble - it's a safe little bubble,
It's a cosy excuse for an underground,
The music's nice - the girl's polite,
I'd give it a crack if they weren't somebody's wives,
But there's something missing,
Or something that should be,
That civilized, hypnotized, slightly below average guy - me.

Now maybe I'm being too hard on myself,
That self fulfilling prophecy doesn't help,
But everywhere I go things chill right out,
When I want people to scream and shout,
Now I've got attitude some of the time,
And I've got rhythm and I've got rhyme,
But maybe I'm just better off staying at home?
Playing on my PS3 and yanking my bone.
Track Name: Bored
I'm bored,
I'm bored of this party,
I'm bored of these people,
Who talk like they've actually got words worth speaking,
While I sit alone with my intellect reeling ignored,
And bored.

I'm scared,
I'm scared of the fact that they act with no fear,
Like with every new thought comes a fresh new idea,
That a lifetime of my words could never come near,
Like I'm not even worthy to be here inhaling their air,
I'm scared.

I'm exhausted,
Exhausted like I am the only one talking,
Like it takes up all of my effort to stop them from falling,
Back into their lifeless exchanges,
Contorting back to their expressionless faces,
So warm and inviting yet somehow implying I've lost it,
I'm exhausted.

I'm dead,
I'm dead as a dodo,
Extinct if you must know,
Six foot below where all the flowers and grass photosynthesize sunlight,
I fertilize gob-shite,
Absolving to let the worms eat out my insides instead,
I'm dead.

I'm alive,
Alive at the sound of the voices outside,
That are laughing out loud at my pointless demise,
So I cough and I rage and I spit out my insides,
To ignite the world in such glorious sunlight,
So fresh to my eyes yet as old as the hillside I scale,
To laugh out loud at how I could ever of paled,
Such bright colours with ignorance trying to blame,
All the others - the innocents just as afraid,
As my self at the end of the day,
Of when you let yourself just get carried away,
By the no time but now and the no more to say,
When there's now what where how - there's just wave after wave,
Of Alive,
Alive, alive, alive, etc.

But now I'm bored,
I'm bored cus I stopped myself going too far,
Like who do I think I am? Some kind of a superstar?
I'm just a human,
Just flesh and bone just like before,
Bored bored bored bored,
Bored bored bored bored.
Track Name: One of These Days
One of these days I'm gonna walk 'til I fall baby,
One of these days with no more fear at all baby,
One of these days I'm gonna answer the call,
One of these days with no more fear at all,
One of these days I'm gonna walk 'til I fall baby.

One of these days I'm gonna wake up strong baby,
One of these days when all my patience is gone baby,
One of these days I'm gonna do no more wrong,
One of these days when all my patience is gone,
One of these days I'm gonna wake up strong baby.

And you can all go to hell,
Cus I'll be there as well,
With no more soul to sell,
One of these days baby.

One of these days I'm gonna do the right thing baby,
One of these days I'll make the whole world sing baby,
One of these days with the state that I'm in,
One of these days I'll make the whole world sing,
One of these day's I'm gonna do the right thing baby.