We're playing Guilfest '24

We're on at 3:45

Guilfest, back at Stoke Park. Come On Down, it'll be a good 'un

Mooshwa Pooshwa is a band playing an eclectic mix of musical styles - Latin, Gypsy-folk and Klezmer with a punky twist. Lyrical themes include love, regret, murder, mystery, madness and diabolical temptation – but they carry their darkness lightly. 

Tim on uke, melodica, vibraslap and vocals  

Phil on bass and vocals

Robbie on congas, percussion and backing vocals

Richard on guitars

Dave on drums and percussion


Previous shows


August 2021

Fish Finger Festival

Sept. 2021

Claygate Festival

March 2020

With Dr. Feelgood



Albino and Arrivederci 

Danger in your frying pan, wallpaper, wigs and pesticide 

A troubling death resulting from a troubled life 

Duplicated mystery corpses died convulsing in the open air 

It’s established that it’s death by poison, but which and when and how and why and where?


The Duo is on the job, 

Pointing at the suspects 



Rosy cheek white faces, now still forever, fixed in time 

Albino and Arrivedverci cousins in and yet victims of crime 

A heavy garlic atmosphere enough to make one well and truly sick 

More so given that everywhere and everything is made of arsenic 


With some history and some chemistry 

All applied with the mastery of 

A methodology 


Dewberry and Goldstein relaxing in the DD Cup Café 

They’re talking round the evidence in a double murder mystery 

A combination of toxic walls and tribal rivalry is soon deduced 

A Balkan Black Sobranie helps evaluate collected clues 


Curiosity is satisfied, 

And so now to inhale 


Protein Socks 

When the bodily bio-chemical process 

Becomes an unspoken way to confess 

The Socks and Shoes of Albert Tattersoles 

Are the key to the darkness of the human soul 

There is a case to solve 

Problems to resolve 

Known Knowns, Known Unknowns, Unknown Unknowns. 


Proteins have no place in socks and shoes 

And this could be the biggest of the clues. 


Some new patterns to think on and understand what’s meant 

And reflect upon the transitory nature of contentment 

With A Balkan Black Sobranie 

And DD Cup Café sarnie 

There is a case to solve 

Problems to resolve 

Knowns Knowns, Known Unknowns, Unknown Unknowns 


Proteins have no place in socks and shoes 

And this could be the biggest of the clues. 


Another mystery but will they crack it? 

Link it to the street antacid racket? 

Because of protein concentrations in socks 

Thinking way, way, way outside the box 

And this case is solved 

Questions answered 

All resolved 

Knowns Knowns, Known Unknowns, Unknown Unknowns 


Proteins have no place in socks and shoes 

And this could be the biggest of the clues.

Come on down 

Leaders with your rockets (come on down to me) 

Pistol in your pockets (come on down to me) 

I fell right down from Heaven (come on down to me) 

I’ll steal your soul in seconds 

My fiery furnace beckons 


You've got what I need 

You've got what I need 

You've got what I need 

So come on down and dance with me 


Gather true believers (come on down to me) 

Liars and deceivers (come on down to me) 

I offer you transgression (come on down to me) 

Give in to my possession 

Here begins the lesson 


Give in to temptation (come on down to me) 

Fame and fornication (come on down to me) 

Come down from your tower (come on down to me) 

On your knees and cower 

This is the seat of power

Because We're Here

We’re here because we’re here because we’re here because we’re here 

The general said don’t worry you’ll be home within a year 

But it’s alright for him he’s only heading up the rear 

Because we’re here here here here here 

Because we’re here here here here here 


We’ll fight for God and country 

With our flesh and blood and bones 

For our brothers in the trenches 

And the women left at home 

We’ll fight and fight and fight 

Until there’s no one left to fear 

And although we’re very young 

And underdone we’re over here 


Oh the rats have chewed our laces 

And the piss has wrecked our boots 

With the devils all around us 

We don’t know which way to shoot 

The bodies lie there stinking 

And the mud is running red 

And of all the friends I came with 

Every one of them is dead 


We fought them on the beaches 

Now we fight them in the bars 

With our faces stripped of pity 

And salvation in our hearts 

But you can’t see we’re broken 

‘Cause we’ve covered up the scars 

And as soon as this war’s over 

There’s another one to start 


When finally they ship us home 

In disfigurement and pain 

A demob suit to warm us 

Not a penny to our name 

We’ll regale them of our stories 

Now we’re crooked, grey and old 

Of how war is just a racket 

Built on rifles, oil and gold


Mooshwa Pooshwa means different things depending on your point of view.  To the French we're Hanky Panky, if you're Romany it means being pushed in the face.  Others think of Mouse Shamen or an Alaskan bark-stripping deer.  Take your pick.


Phil on 07968 536 454

Robbie on 07507 901 597