1. |
Hate a Hater
02:13
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Hate preacher got a hunger on
Got a finger on a crooked pulse
Hate preacher got a hunger on
Point a finger at another cult
No doubt that you've rinsed your head
Mancunian morgue of the living dead
Walking in the shoes of a household object
We're coming up with plans that you'd never suspect
Hate preacher
Fumble on
Your 12th Century weightlessness has seen its day
We eat your words and drink your disdain
A sympathy fuck in a concrete car port
Five Ways in and no way out
You've got orange clowns running 'round your fire
Orchestrating mass brain suicide
A little bit of paper on the back of your tongue
Undoing what can't be undone
Hate preacher got a hunger on
Got a finger on a crooked pulse
Hate preacher
got a hunger on
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2. |
Tactical Witches
02:01
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You were born with a detonator
You were born with a landmine heart
You were born in a ziploc bag
A misanthropic early start
1,2,3,4 witches...
I have been to a destination
I have travelled the underworld
I have lived through an agitation
Strong enough to make a tough man hurl
Left, right, left, right witches...
Tactical!
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3. |
Sinister Handed
01:48
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Intimate majesty
Immaculate jest
He wanders between
The worst and the best
Flaunting a hangover
He found in the street
Hanging on words
Like hooks hang with meat
Sinister handed
He reclaims, you retrain
Faced with self-interest
And an ocean of shame
Beers, steers and Tory peers
He drains their beliefs
Hands of mutton will press the button
Cheeks of beef will seek relief
He said what he said
Because he meant it
He plays with the rules
He don't invent them
The mind's not an instrument
It's a private place
He deals with the hand he's dealt
Shoves it in the right face.
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4. |
Digital Breakdown
01:20
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I see things coming apart in my mind
not in pieces but blowing into pixels, tiny dots.
people, places, things all just exploding into
smaller and smaller bits then spreading out
across a background that is yet to explode itself
but that will in time.
I'm having a digital breakdown.
I feel sick.
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5. |
Blond Bastion
02:43
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Digging for comfort in your bed
Styrofoam nightmares in your head
Cut more slack than the gallows allows
Loosely lipped fact checking holy cows
Blond bastion, no, no, no
Blond bastion, no
I don't know what you see in me
If I saw it myself I would saw it in three
Cos the pedestal's tall, and my vertigo's real
Any my balance is shit this won't end gracefully
The time for truth has passed
War, greed, disharmony
Grab what you can't steal
This battle of words won't bring relief
The platform is too high
And the PA is too loud
My Twitter reach has gone insane
And my ego has landed far too proud.
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6. |
Turkish Prison Break
01:51
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3.5 grammes in a silver pack
mother grabbed her passport and packed her bag
an innocent mistake can't be explained
flying thc to turkey on a budget plane
15 years
in a turkish cell
the accidental smuggler
a tale to tell
the charges were too long to list
she thought it was a birthday gift
15 years
in a turkish cell
it would be sensible now to cut her costs
leave it in an ankara bin and accept the loss
but she weighed it up and brought it home
sauntered straight through nothing to declare alone.
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7. |
Crimewatch Special
03:03
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He had a head for heights
But his fingers did the walking
He had a mouth for words
But his missus did the talking
He had an A to Z
But it missed out B to Y
He had the nerve to smile
When he offered you advice
He had the kind of face
That you see on Crimewatch Specials
A mis-match of parts
Roughly human, mostly metal
Percolator face
Made of pieces thrown together
He had a nervous smile
When he offered you advice
Percolator face
Slobber in her face, like an excited dog
It's not a good look, sort yourself out son
You've got the kind of face even Grandma likes to punch
As welcome as a sausage roll at a vegan lunch
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8. |
Top Deck Princess
04:04
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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'll 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 get in her way
She talks in riddles
She dribbles in tune...
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9. |
Sawdust Caesar
02:05
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Walking around in your little bossy boots
Your name's on the deeds but it don't mean shite
Seeing how high you can piss up the wall
Your name's on the door but it ain't spelt right
Sawdust little caesar
A right petty git
Your empire is tiny
But you're the king of it
They won't let you in and you're making a fuss
Everyone's turning to stare
You got you want some attention at last
But not for the reason you'd care...
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10. |
Trespass Incident
01:27
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Your skin is like egg shells
Your blood is like yolk
The glair is your hair
And you cracked when you spoke
Your face is a picture
None would hang on a wall
Your words are vindictive
And your testicles small
You marked the card
No here's your gift
It's the future you wanted
Bend over, grit your teeth
We've got another five years of austerity to squeeze up there...
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11. |
Oxidise the Gargoyles
05:38
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All I hear is excuses
Just a dirty protest
A last shake of the bag
Chain letter bullshit
One last little hit
Living for the weakened
A shower of shits
"Are you okay hun?"
You broke the first rung
On the property ladder
Schnapsidie Rhapsodie
Does it even matter?
My friends are all kinder people than me
I can't believe it's not better
Overdrawn at the blood bank
And half a pound of tupenny lepers
Let me state this clearly
Make it plain to see
Which ever way you twist it
What you'd like us to believe
You can't change the facts
Not one little bit
You're not an art student
You studied economics
Reset the modems of doom
Oxidise the gargoyles
Set your sights on the moon
And wade through the shallows
Winky threw a wobbly
- You know that shite -
He screamed bloody murder
And fuck the polite.
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PithyGiro Birmingham, UK
Battery-powered guitar and vocal diatribes addressing the state of the world and getting lost in a state. Musically improvised then yakked over with words.
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