1. |
A Terrible Mess
02:48
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I woke up in the belly of a tin mine.
They out three poker chips in my hand, and when they crumbled as I stepped into the sunlight they told me “now you’re a real country man”.
Put on the hills I met a priest. He made an eloquent speech. He Said “I probably got what you need”.
I said “well, I’m looking for a twenty, and the head of Dr Kelly, and some social mobility”.
He said “ahhh boy. Youve gotta be shittin’ me. I’m gonna need you to come with me”.
He said “Oh, my boy, what a terrible mess you got in.
You’re going down, low down, and you’re never getting back up again. No way”
Then he banged me out and dragged me to the courthouse. He told me days were numbered for me and my kind.
Men of virtue, pure and true, appeared in costume, and they declared they had nothing to hide.
The case before me was accused of letting herself be abused. The judge, he shook her and said “Say my name”, and she replied,
“Has Your Honour forgotten? Judge, you’ve really hit the bottom since they’ve gone and denied you your shot at fame”.
He said “ahhh, my dear girl. Its all just a part of the game. I’ll be back on top one day.
He said “oh, my girl, what a terrible mess you got in.
You’re going down, low down, and you’re never getting back up again. No way”
When I lied and said I’d shot my mother right between the eyes, all the people they demanded I be freed.
They anointed me with holy water, then they offered me their daughters, and eventually the presidency.
I quickly got used to living the high life. I got rich. I got fat. I got bored.
And my buddy, Milton Friedman, tried to conceal the people floating face down around the Lower Ninth Ward.
He told me to live every day as if it were my last.
I thought that I should heed his advice, so I curled up and started weeping, rocking back and forth, repeating “the things I could’ve done with just a little more time. But what a terrible mess I got in”
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2. |
Long Eaton Party Anthem
03:58
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Oh, what a feeling. Throw your hands to the ceiling.
I’m getting fucked up on this wonderful evening.
A celebration of the freedom that my great grandfather died for.
I never learnt his name, but I learnt that it’s a beautiful thing to have the privilege to live without committing to a thing to believe in.
So, get the party started, Baby. Hit it harder. The heartlessness is part of the fun.
It’s shit in here, man, full of dickheads and bitches, and after two hours and two full pitchers of ass-kickers, i’m not even pissed.
I swear to god, man, I’m not even pissed.
I’m so fucking bored. It’s the same old shit as last week and the week before and the week before.
Watching these pricks get their kicks out on the dancefloor.
You wanna get down? Now you’ve gotta get down.
I’d like to see you dance with half your ear in my mouth.
Shake it, baby. Face it, girl, I’m taking him out.
It’s a real shame to say, but you’ve gotta let the devil out to feel safe these days.
Well, I can, and I love it. Man, i tell ya, I buzz off it. Don’t think I could stop it if i tried.
All my life for Saturday night.
Shake it, shake it, baby. Should be driving me crazy.
I might be crazy, boy. Nothing seems to phase me no more.
The blood on the floor’s a matter of course, and of course I’m taking you down with me.
It’s all about this base sensation I get, and I know it can’t last forever but I don’t wanna stop it yet.
I never really had a choice, man.
You wanna get down? Now you’ve gotta get down.
I’d like to see you dance with half your ear in my mouth.
Shake it, baby. Face it, girl, I’m taking him out.
It’s a real shame to say, but you’ve gotta let the devil out to feel safe these days.
Well, I can, and I love it. Man, i tell ya, I buzz off it. Don’t think I could stop it if i tried.
All my life for Saturday night.
Oh, what a weekend. I fell in at the deepend, man, and I can’t remember anything.
Man, i can’t remember anything. And I’m so confused, man.
I’m so fucking confused, and I can’t tell if it’s the drugs or the booze.
I can’t take another Sunday cleaning blood off my shoes,
Man.
You wanna get down? You better stay right down.
I woke up this afternoon with someone else’s blood in my mouth,
and I’m shaking, shaking, baby.
It’s a real shame to say. It’s so easy to let the devil out, and so difficult to put him away.
I’ve been shaking, shaking, baby, all my life.
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3. |
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I’ve got to admit, I’d be livid if I weren’t so bored.
Got a red-brick scholarship, offered a couple of semesters abroad, and I’ve got an eight year old daughter who’s wildest dreams are of Mablethorpe.
Might as well of been tattooed on her umbilical cord: Dont touch what you can’t afford.
I got a Spanish speaking Jesus hanging on my TV wall.
I got a first edition signed copy of Huntington. He prophesised the future of war.
I got a place on the adult literacy programme down community hall, but it’s all like “don’t start if you’re prone to stall, and don’t touch what you can’t afford. That’s not the way shit’s done where we come from”.
I got family in The Hampton’s, business connections in New York.
That’s better than the colony of silverfish living in my bathroom floor. I tried to fix it with a dozen wonky battens that I hacked at with my dead Dad’s saw.
It’s been ringing in my ears since the day i was born: Don’t touch what you can’t afford.
I got a golden chalice that I drink from in the name of The Lord, and I’ve got a healthy disdain for this mortal coil I endure.
I’ve got an ivory tower, and a city full of scum to ignore.
I got this shitty crust left over that I give to the poor, saying “Don’t touch what you can’t afford. That’s not the way shit’s done where we come from”.
Little Baby David’s having so much fun.
Look at how he plays with all the kids in the neighbourhood. A glimpse of what he’s gonna become.
We’ve got nothing left to fear.
These are post-thought years, Mrs C. We can see you didn’t raise no foolish son.
Like I said, I’d be livid if I weren't so bored.
Got a red-brick scholarship, offered a couple of semesters abroad, and I’ve got just as much fucking right to be appalling as you’ve got to be appalled.
They say “fucking look at the state of em all, man, you know they shouldn’t touch what they can’t afford”.
It’s not what you do, it’s what you come from.
That’s how Little Baby David’s grown up big and strong.
Do you remember how he dominated the kids in the neighbourhood? We knew what he was gonna become.
We’ve got nothing left to fear.
These are post-thought years, Mrs C. We can see you didn’t raise no foolish son.
Shame he turned out to be a cunt.
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4. |
Like Anyone Cares
05:30
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We’ll all run out of breath screaming “there’s got to be some good left”.
How come it in’t so clear?
How come these things that you crave, they’re the same things I’ve grown to fear?
There’s no other way, and there’s nowhere to be but here.
How come there in’t no love?
How come these things make me shake and they’re the same things you dream of?
You’re trying to make sense of what was, and what’s left.
How come you look so pleased?
How come you look so smug, man? They’re smashing the fuck out your knees.
How come you don’t seem phased?
How could you not be enraged when they’re laughing right in your face?
What’s changed?
Everything and everyone I’ve ever know has gone, and taken a bit of me with the, and left me to wonder what went wrong.
The sofa was cold, but that’s on me.
That’s on you.
That’s on me.
Come on in. I’ll show you round. I’ll lead you by your hair.
I’ll shatter your eyes and batter your pride. It’s not as if anyone cares, but that’s on me.
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Dirty Scroungin' Bastards UK
Music from the gutter
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