1. |
Get Over Yrself
01:39
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Every minute I’m out here
extends the risk
I’d rather melt
than be burnt to a crisp
With my body a liquid
I’d be free to flow
And you’d need a dam
to keep me whole
I’m a living god
A living liquid god
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2. |
Badges & Ideals
03:59
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I’m coming down to holy water
Rat fit screaming through my head
I can’t trust the, the things I ought to
Blister packs exploding down my legs
It’s Saturday…
Magdalena, see you later
Dream your dreams out in your unmade bed
Track the danger, shoot the stranger
Leave the goth to find himself… self.
You bring the milk and I’ll bring the shake
You bring the earth and I’ll bring the quake (quake!)
I’ll raise my high ideals
You make the badges
You bring the Daily Mail
I’ll bring the matches...
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3. |
Edge Fund
03:29
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Hedge fund, Edge Lord
Chauvinistic, tour de force
Head case, M-m-male gaze
Man-spreading on a crowded train
You think it’s going your way?
Nothing’s going that way.
You think it’s going your way?
No one’s going your way.
Meat head, dead leg
Superhero bed spread
Creepy c-c-crawly
Your parents raised you poorly
I’m not gonna go your way, no way
I’m not gonna think your way, no way
We’re not gonna go your way, no way
I’m not gonna speak your way, no way
You build it up, we knock it down
Chase your arguments around and around and a-
You fill it up, we pour it out
Leave a puddle of hate on the ground and
You never felt an ounce of guilt
Never bothered with empathy
Now you’re sat on your sofa
With nothing but (your deep-faked) memories
Impact player
Subtlety is not your flavour
Side swipe, lens wipe
Spraying spittle on the miners and majors
Liar, liar
Too wet to set your pants on fire
Bubble in the briar
Called your mum to change your last flat tyre.
Liar, liar
Too wet to set your pants on fire
Bubble in the briar
Lost your bottle in a burned out byre.
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4. |
Names & Numbers
02:40
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Can’t remember
Can’t forget
Three course sorrow with a side of regret
Hold your cards
To your chest
Never mention you are hedging your bets
Hide your hate
Behind a smile
Makes up for what you’re lacking in guile
Obfuscate
Your desires
As you assemble your funeral pyre
Strike your matches
Build the pyre
Hands up if you want to build higher
Distant Memory
Long forgot
Found it lacking a suitable spot
Daily motion
Daily grind
Ever feel like you were just killing time?
Making plans
Taking names
Just like numbers from the side of a train
Rev that engine
One more time
I’ll shove the keys where the sun doesn’t shine
Taking numbers
Taking names
Adding fuel to the flames
Taking pictures
Taking aim
Play the hand
Not the game
Strike your matches
Light the fire
Hands up if you want to go higher
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5. |
Family Friendly
02:25
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Open hand, and empty heart
Systematically falling apart
Broken down and broken in
Left to rot in a basement of sin
Time, time, toeing the line
Spending a lifetime just waiting for signs
Blood flows, and everyone knows
The lessons we learn are forgotten too soon
Open hand and empty heart
Systematically tearing apart
Out of luck and out of time
Hard to prove it’s a victimless crime
Flood, flood, drawing the blood
Better to lose than to never be loved
Time flows, and everyone knows
The friends that we knew are forgotten too soon...
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6. |
||||
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You should hear what she says about you
Cos you’ve been saying it too
But you don’t have the right, you said
Even if it’s true
It’s the principle int it?
It gets right under your skin
Febrile and aimless
It’s the 21st Century sin
You’re not right, You don’t care
Your face is everywhere,
You’re not liked, You don’t care,
Your face is everywhere
Like a rich man looking for context
In the people he meets
Like a bull searching for a simile
When he can’t even see
Blind bull in the night, blind bull in the night
No context, no sight, blind bull in the night
Blind bull in the night, blind bull in the night
No content, no fight, blind bull in the night
Et tu Barberoux, gonna paint your face blue
3, 4, ever more, kicking in the church door
Hip, hip, double dip, kiss around your fat lip
Five pounds into town, have to push it deep down…
Burnt out in a battle bus, Burnt out in a battle bus
No virtue, no blush
Burnt out in a battle bus,
Burnt out in a battle bus, Burnt out in a battle bus
You put your left arm down, and your right arm up
Burnt out in a battle bus
We walked through the sleeping city, blood blue moon over our heads
Through deserted streets and the underpass to the multi-storey where you left your car
We drove for hours through the suburbs and you never once stopped talking
A pointless anecdote for everything we passed
As dawn approached we climbed the parapet of your castle
Gazed down on the muddled masses following in your digital shadow
You stopped. Mouth wide. Surprised to see…
All the friends you had left,
All the friends you had left,
All the friends you had left
Have left... Have left.
All the friends you had left,
All the friends you had left,
All the friends you had left
Have left
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7. |
Locked Down, Lucked Out
02:30
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It’s not how he planned it
And it’s not what it was
If he’d felt it was coming
Then he might’ve washed
He was invested heavily
All his interests tied up
In the service industry
That was basically fucked
Locked down, lucked out
Put down, fed up
His money was everything
His karma, his curse
When he entered a room
His wallet went first
When he lost his investments
He saw how little he’d done
When he lost his male privilege
He was totally stunned
Locked down, lucked out
Put down, fed up
Lucked out, locked down
Fed up
Born into it, let’s undo it
Isolated, mostly hated
Instamatic, oh-so tragic
Burn the boy’s club,
Burn it, burn it, burn it...
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8. |
Constant Ghost
03:33
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It all started back in 1997, in a once stately rundown house in the countryside
Big rooms, high ceilings, faded splendor, rotten plaster
The girl I arrived with had vanished, left me alone in a damp house of strangers
No light, no heat, two chairs pushed together to sleep on
Darkness filled the room like water fills a bath
I was dimly aware of others close by
Whispering duos, snorting soloists, scratching rodents
As I struggled to drag the security blanket of sleep over my torso
A sudden scream pierced the veil
No more than six feet away from me a girl was shrieking in mortal fear
Tenderly her partner talked her down, banishing the night terrors
But from that moment on my own ghost took root
It found a way in, and gripped on tight
Yes, my terrors found me
But there’s nothing supernatural about the state I’m in
It’s not super, it’s not natural, it’s just annoying
I try to take the pressure off by trusting in others
But it’s never a good idea to put all of your eggs in somebody else’s basket
People love eating eggs
My ghost is cur, my ghost is a fiend
It undermines me, consoles me, then trips me up because
My ghost is insecurity, my ghost is compassion
My ghost is disappointment, my ghost is aggression
My ghost are no part time phantom, no temporary spectre
They are a constant ghost, They are a constant ghost
Haunting every moment I see through them, they see through me
They speak in whisper, I scream in time
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9. |
Pencil Case
02:30
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How’s your century going?
You’ve lost your reason for showing
Your purpose, ambition is slowing
You still don’t get the joke
You made the worst of decisions
But with the best of intentions
You mothered all the worst of inventions
The grit is in your throat
Upset the sausage cart
Kick out the lads
They’re all just shapes to me
Wrong uns, and scum bags
False starts are new beginnings
No chance of sharing your winnings
I miss you like I miss not knowing
Just how bad things can get
Upset the sausage cart
Kick out the lads
They’re all just shapes to me
Wrong uns, and scum bags
Burn down the after life
Push out the prams
No more excuses
Stick it to the man
We’re just bits of lead in a pencil case
Broken bits of lead in a pencil case…
False starts are new beginnings...
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10. |
Sunk Estate
03:50
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Conserve energy / Fight posterity
Exclusivity / Stuck in the mud
Claim imperative / Chain executive
Fuel austerity / Close down the pubs
Blind rigidity / Masculinity
Toxic effigy / Never stood up
My integrity / All I’m meant to be
Safe as anything / Given good luck
The flood has taken hold
We shall not die old
Who is in control?
This assisted living is making a killing
I’m empty, so build me, then fill me, and thrill me
Close-knit lethargy / Expound synergy
Sensitivity / Raw from the rub
Drain proclivity / Stained rapacity
Sanguine truancy / Never showed up
From obscurity / To promontory
I rise up to see / Everything fall
From particulate / Angles accurate
Purpose definite / Monumental
The flood has taken hold
We shall not die old
Who is in control?
This assisted living is making a killing
I’m empty, so build me, then fill me, and thrill me
I am home / I am mean
I am concrete / I am steel
I’m a fortress / I’m a cell
I’m the 25th circle of Hell
I am brutal / I am bleak
Give me your humble / Give me your weak
I am compressed / I am cracked
A dystopian statement of fact
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11. |
Top Deck Princess
03:27
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Top deck princess
Hi top priestess
Sailed down the valley and burnt the bush
Top deck princess
Not her business
Made up and made out and made a fuss
I have seen a world of torture
Pledge your first born son and daughter
Put your faith in modern convenience
And pray to me, pray to me, pray to me
Pray to your council highness
Top deck princess
Low rent pen-friend
She'd steal the air from a dead balloon
Top deck princess
Full of pretence
Fluffing you up as she works the room
Her trainers are filthy
She dresses like trash
And she will engage you in underhand tasks
She has a rare talent for getting her way
And heaven forbid that you ruin her day
Will not be defeated
Have her cake and eat it
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12. |
Spare Change
03:09
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It’s approaching
I feel a shiver
It whispers
Come hither
There’s a storm bowling right up the valley
Like a gran with a trolley in the middle aisle of Aldi
We start to suffocate
Stuck in the kissing gate
The few coins
In my pocket
Sound a toll
Non-profit
Rings a bell in a broken tower
Like a priest drunk on wine shouting “Fight the Power!”
We start to suffocate
Stuck in the kissing gate
While you eviscerate
All the things you hate
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Fauxchisels Birmingham, UK
It's a Youth Opportunity Scheme to breathe life and love into the jaded cynic.
More post than
punk
More stick than rock
Paul and Heather and Dicky and Mike make the sounds for your ears with the guitar the bass and the drums and the microphones.
... more
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