1. |
Dressage Display
03:27
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|
All I see on the screens are apparitions
Of the dead and buried
Fighting to break out
Of their graves and their caskets
But when was the last time
You had anything to contribute?
Hello, it’s me again
Would you stuff your face full of shit
If you thought for one second we would applauded?
Or defile the innocents if cameras were pointed?
Attentions attention, attention full stop
Hello, it’s me again. I’m back
Back on the scene again
Back on the horse
One more dressage display
Singing for my supper
Begging for more gruel
The bowl is before me
But it’s empty again
Or have I just got nothing left to say?
Or have I just got nothing left to give?
All I see on the screens are apparitions
Of the dead and buried
Fighting to break out
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2. |
Sandworms
05:46
|
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|
The Serengeti is littered with paper planes
Covered with yesterday’s stories of another
Over wordy bombing raid
It’s hard to ignore the telex downpour
But it takes the biscuit when the content
Means nothing to me
Natural mistakes and natural disasters
Naturally curious of the fault lines before us
Feast, feast, feast
This one has bitten off more than it can chew
Get your jaws around the stragglers legs
And bring them down.
In Ghana they have a graveyard for all our pasts
10 km of our secrets, a silicone burial path
Dissemination, the spread of infection
Here comes the tide to wash away the border
One more disputed line
Let the hyenas run free, they’re starving and wild
It’s been at least a day, since they had something
To really get they’re teeth stuck in
Someone hasn’t put a foot wrong for at least 5 minutes
Who we gonna crucify now?
I can feel withdrawal clawing at my skull
Natural mistakes and natural disasters
Naturally curious of the chasm before us
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3. |
Kill The Moment
04:46
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Call Alan T, call Monty Don
We have the biggest slug infestation
The garden is barren, the vegetables eaten
By those who preached, that we must be frugal
It was them, it was them all along
Gorging themselves, whist feedings us vomit
Like a bloated condom
Full of stolen seamen
Of the children you halted,
when your face, popped into the minds, of their parents
during copulation
Like a bloated condom
Full of stolen seamen
You sure know how to
Kill the moment, kill the moment, kill the moment, dead
Like a grotesque sex doll
full of toxic hot air
Watch out the seams are straining
As you wiggle and slither
The sane world shivers
Put your best cum face on
And kill the moment, kill the moment
It seems to me there’s a paradox
While they got old, you’re staying young
Each one withered grey and cheeks sunk in
While you’re bloating out a lustrous
Gorging yourself, by feeding from us
You are the leach and we are your bloody meal
You might well say, this is the modern age
But that’s what they said last decade
rewind and watch a 90s video
You’ll think you’re looking at the stone age
Do you know what the funniest part is?
(Draw the lines, salt the lines, draw the lines)
I actually prefer you having the power
It gives me someone to disagree with
Instead of feeling like I’ve been let down
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4. |
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Did you ever, did you ever look back
And regret the moralistic stances you took.
I could have been, I would have been
I should have been fucking
All those times we decided just to talk.
Because it’s hard, hard you know
To reconcile conflicting sides
Grunting over images, lusting at the symmetries
Paint the guilty inclines scarlet
Etching such sights on the back of my mind
Now you see it, now you don’t
Eager spectators watching strangers playing hide and seek
Nature it has the patience
To nurture it’s best jokes
an X can’t turn to Y
Merely by doubling the legs
Upstairs confusion
Downstairs a burning sense of desire
Upstairs confusion
Downstairs a constant state of arousal
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5. |
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I think I’m in trouble now, with a capital
There was this time a few months ago
When I just couldn’t fight the urge
I banged and banged, till my thing got sore
Here comes the vinegar
No holding back the vinegar
Oh the oestrogen seas I feel the change inside me
After I wiped I got the fear, why is my essence here
It might have got smeared where the wind don’t blow
It’s not a man’s problem
I remember back
I remember when
They used to say a man shouldn’t worry
They used to say it’s a women’s problem
They used to say I needn’t worry
That things like this couldn’t happen to me
There’s a swelling in my stomach
There’s an ache in my bowels
And I’m pretty sure
I can feel something grow
Something just moved
With all of these cleaver advances
With all of these miracles
My stomach bursts
As my son is born
I lay here smiling to myself
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