Abba, Father, and Mamma Mia, here I go yet again

‘Twas a Black Sabbath, when psychopath Sharon marrieth Osbourne

Mr Cash, he Walked The Line and finally got a hit with a hot Ring Of Fire

But Donny and Marie could not get more money, without raising their Mormon parents’ ire

Ello ello, it’s ELO; ’elp me, it’s ELP!

Franz Ferdinand should be shot, except it might spark World War Three

Guns N Roses, well Axl Rose and fell, oral sex notwithstanding

The Hives, like all Swedish bees, found the cold climate just too demanding

Iron Maiden, with Bruce Dickheadson, did their schtick so slick for a thick audience

Mr John, first name Elton, when you come on, I’ll get me far hence

The Killers, so many fillers, the thrill is gone, but Cameron likes you

Leona doesn’t give me a boner, only that phoney Simon Cowell loves you

Mariah should be set on fire, I’ll start the pyre, vi-Carey-ously

Nirvana came to harm, a bullet disarming their not so peaceful harmony

Oasis? A waste of space, face it, based on Beatles, definitely maybe

Posh Spice and not so nice girl chums, really glum, having fun for a fee

Queen rocked, but We Will Rock You shocked me; fuck you, Ben Elton, sir

Robbie, that slobby fat dancer from Stoke, Take That have stolen your thunder

Oh Springsteen, stop singing, you’ve been on stage for at least four hours and counting

Now Trevor, I’ll put you in a half-Nelson; start delaying your dee-jaying

U2, I’m sick of you, too, I’m close to The Edge of Bono Pox

Van Morrison, I’m sorry, son, but my patience ticks and tocks

Will, now you’re no longer Young, will you leave right now, you’ve sung your last

X-Factor, it’s a fact your acts should be smacked, then sacked and forgotten fast

Yo, yo, (no, not the yo-yo), talkin’ bout so much c-rap on the radio

ZZ Top are at the bottom of this poem, so I’m done. Thank you? I don’t think so!