Into the pay zone (nugget)
The perks of company
Not tailored, naturally
Of touching hair and things
Of talking into screens
The curse of timely signs
It’s hard work being kind
Flash you’re dough stream
purchase neoprene
flat sole in off white
And the black n yellow slides
consumer and delight
Into the pay zone, touch card,
Into the pay zone , touch card
Get your backside thrown back in
As you losh out more plastic
And the sentinel goes click
It’s your core that’s looking sick
In the realm of valued things
Eating berries and dried figs
I try n lay off to much cake
Cos my core it takes first place
2019 death race
Post, recover, eat, post, hate
And I don’t use flavoured vape
They’re blow up dolls
For hipsters mate
Post, recover, eat, post, hate
Into the pay zone! Into the pay zone!
I don’t use flavoured vapes
They’re blow up dolls for hipsters mate
But I don’t mind hipsters mate
We ain’t hipster bashing fakes
Lumps on legs and smack tans quake
Against the church and all it’s hate
Burberry stores and vegan plates
Sour creme on gluten base
Into the pay zone
Touch card x2
End
Kebab Spider
In jangles and the measure
Of limited release
I blab out at my earliest convenience tee hee
The satin knights of dogshit
The creme de la creme of feet
Of course we’re fucking relevant
It’s sotty and it’s sweep
Who knew Who knew Who knew
They got the experts in
Who knew Who knew Who knew
They let the film stars in
Little slits in houses
Don’t want ya thinking big
The skint get used in loo roll shoes
In films and all that shit
By indie Documentry’s
They ain’t highlighting no pain
Some Documentry’s on channel 4 are only in it for the fame!
We ain’t show shine boys for fakers
bingo punks wiv rickenbackers
You’ve had record deal for nearly 30 years
What do you know about agencies, looking for jobs, shit wages, vague memory alone don’t justify your tv times Jonny Ramone, Sid, Kebab Spiders, easy riders and flag tits
Just saying it all to look good
Just saying it all to look good
Just saying it all to look good
Who knew
Who knew
Who knew
They got the experts in.
If you don’t try to get it you go down
If you won’t agree to be the kid in town
If you don’t try to eat it, get that sound
spiders crawl out of ya donor’s crown
Policy Cream
Can I come back next time dressed in shite and take my place on the land scapes eyes
It’s the rest who push the policy dream of fixing life with policy cream
Voice your thoughts near big black gates on dead old roads near bricks and grey
To the sound of nothing as it breaks the spell, there’s no witchcraft here it’s just Fuckin hell.
We’re in the makings of another hole
Where we all get the chance to climb on again!
It’s just the makings of another hole that will turn on us all eventually x2
I got a Road works pose even though I’m free I mean I can’t moan because you’ll have a go at me.
So stupid int we, we’re liked pumped up meat, wet and fried and thick to the slice
I got no flies on me I’m like shit that’s white, the kind that ya tell ya kids to pick up if they like. I got two brown bins, should I only have one but what the council don’t know wont hurt them
We’re in the makings of another hole
Where we all get the chance to climb on again!
It’s just the makings of another hole that will turn on us all eventually x2
It’s gunna turn on us all
And bring us round round round
Take us back to the top and drag us down down down.
O.B.C.T
You know the fakes will always bite
Whenever you go throw the line, fishing
gudeons and perch
All draped in sponsorships and huggin self
worth, like me.
You know the fakes who hide behind
The little myth’s that like to chime for em
All grit and dirt
Until the mask falls off and what you got
is, sesame street, big bird.
you cant be splashing
you got no fins
youre getting salty
you aint a fish
You know now I just fantasize
In an house three times the size of my old
one
And I pretend that it don’t matter
Past Oliver Bonas in my Chelsea tractor
you cant be splashing
you got no fins
youre getting salty
you aint a fish
Your getting shirty
Ya cheeky cuff
Is getting dragged Round by its sleeves.
Break
you cant be splashing
you got no fins
youre getting salty
you aint a fish
Your getting shirty
Ya cheeky cuff
Is getting dragged Round by its sleeves.
Break.
When You Come Up To Me
If ya don’t want to stay and
If ya don’t want them to question you
Lay him on his side don’t freak while
the eyes roll back into bone n the mouth is blue
Maybe it’s the way we feel and
I wanna love the sky and the universe
But that don’t get the door round here
It don’t even come close too.
If ya don’t want nobody
If ya don’t want anyone to come through
I can understand it would be
Something you don’t like when I brush up to you
If ya don’t want that feature
If it’s not right you can skip any beat
And you’d understand it would be
Something I don’t like when you come up to me.
What is in the fold of pleasure ?
Making it the point cos you never let go
The sun is nailed hard to the weather
It rips up the cars and the homes and the roads
No triple just in board Red yea
And people don’t know what it is to be
Living off the dins and stink yea
Living off the puke in the rolled Dead Sea
If ya don’t want nobody
If ya don’t want nobody with you
I can’t understand that fully
I get like it to when I brush up to you
If ya don’t want no feature
If ya don’t want no cover, no cool
I can understand it kills ya
I get like it to when I brush up to you.
Top It Up (glade)
I shove it up I can do it fit as fuck, 2n arf at a time just to make another 8 squeeze and push out big muscles as fuck yes please no drama click in lift it up for the body armour, I ain’t yim. these pub dickheads Lyle and Scott, Adidas wheez, tombstone knights around king Arthur’s cheese, his dosh, 2 strokes doctor come here please, life down, wings and wheels I know the roads of fair England now, airlock, every body is a fuckin cock, text dead men, burrowed deep in the holes of nationalist dens them men spitting out, 2 lines on the table at a Fuckin funeral for somebody who got sick of two lines on the table, ya wimmie, got what I’m on about.
Shove it up
At least the dj’s alright
I’m on a buzz
Top it up ...
The shine of the varnished bar, menu cards, new menu 2 meat, piri piri chicken, ales blend into sleep into what, the rope is your destiny the silence of the grams, family don’t like no fucker, tascam, four track the real map, the way out ah fuck that gimme the key, you want a fucking class tune then ere you go then gravy bum you can have that on me. What a nice man there was nothing nice about the dickhead man as peel hits the floor his kids throwing fruit about until she’s old enough to break the law
Shove it up
At least the dj’s alright
I’m on a buzz
Top it up ...
Take me away from it
I don’t wanna go near it
I don’t wanna go near it
Take me away from it
End
Flipside (jagged)
Flip side speaks
It’s a banner for the tv picks
Ya get the ready daytime sheets
And the answers blow a horn beep beep
Flip side speaks
Make a living it’s a Cotton sheet
I get Egyptian ones and kiwi sweets
She wants some weed it’s gotta be good stuff
Graham Coxon looks like a left wing Boris Johnson, the fields are breathing in as the world it uses them to breathe in
Don’t splat cheap myths
Make sense of what
Don’t splat cheap shit
Make sense of what.
Flip side speaks
It’s the hammer of the gods my arse
More like the bloke insists on playing lots
Of awful music in the artist part
Flip side speaks
He got the U.K. subs thrown out their room
Got his slaves to put lemon tea on the stage whilst we was on there too
Flipside speaks
If you think about it it’s quite bleak
Them faculties ain’t what they seem
Them blouses went and the denim jeans
Flipside speaks
It’s a tackle on a pitch fuck off
I can’t believe it’s not the seafood mobs
little style biters hiding behind virtue stables
Only me sir d listers go on the roundtable
Playlist, caned it tame as fuck fits good for the news that chucks more shit up
Flip side speaks
It’s a banner for the tv picks
Ya get the ready daytime sheets
And the answers blow a horn beep beep
Subtraction
10-10 nothing
20 -20 nothing.
Subtraction
Anxious and finding ways, subtraction
Must be ways to action the calm on a mind our minds on placing no pre doom
On sitting in the park, eating, laughing with ya wife and kids with an head full of blood, bloody splattered, hell vision, this new/old decade is circumcision on your eyes, message that find a way to get inside come morning noon or night. I’m like an air blade I like to keep my hand in tight. Let it dry let it find the things that don’t make ya feel alright
Subtraction
Minus life
through eyes circumcised
Online blah blah gotta sell tickets online ba ba quick get the link copied, across all four platforms, 9am then around teatime send it again quick get the link in it, paste and familiarise with your friends use human language not that robotic PR bot, bot, dead plankton, Pay and go screens and too many wankers in hard books it’s not enough anymore to want change you have to do change but the only change I like sits in my pocket I’m a consumer I’m the systems rocket n I like my launcher!
Hot pod yoga, I’m soba, I’m fixed x 2
Subtraction
Minus life through eyes circumcised x4
Brush the bodies of the dead in your street. Subtraction. X3
Firewall
Now it’s over
The strike upon the hand has gone
But what you open
Isn’t necessarily what it sez on the box
Well so it’s over
The bricks are telling cold on me
I said I’m closer
And the morning sun shines down on me
Break (4bars)
I said it’s over
It’s not something you need to do
You gettin older
You’re getting slower to the point where you’re no use
Well so it’s over
The bricks are telling cold on me
I said I’m closer to the morning sunshine down on me
You don’t know your crying at all
Because of your fire wall
Trapped in the mind of something
Else you’ve become x 2
It’s just the way its been
when you’ve gone missing in the action
It’s just the way Its been
When you’ve gone missing in the action
Break
Now it’s over
The strike upon the hand has gone
But what you open
Isn’t necessarily what it sez on the box
Well so it’s over
The bricks are telling cold on me
I said I’m closer
To the morning sunshine down on me
You don’t know your crying at all
Because of your fire wall
Trapped in the mind of something
Else you’ve become x 2
It’s just the way its been
when you’ve gone missing the action
It’s just the way Its been
When you’ve gone missing in the action x2
End
Big Burt (Nowaysis)
It is! Bastard biz, slim shirt
Belly pops out they call me big Bert, darts player, tungsten delivery phantom, I’m the treble 60 Barton’s Red Baron, Hey dougie! Woof! Multi coloured, round, all these shapes and woof!. it’s really dated, and yet you still court it make out ya knowledgeable you still rate it, air fix dick heads you snap on tools who never grow, shellin out 1500 pound to see an has been who can’t even do 7 shows in one go, what’s that? Wheeled out on a 360, you Music magazines lying to us just to stay in print well I want a free freezbie, plugging a shit pig so you can still parade around Arnos Grove in ya get up name dropping 90’s pricks meh.
Worse! Its getting shitter.
And no amount of taking about
Something that you’ll never do anything about is gunna make it better
I got a wonky back, inspector gadget in deep sea batter, 80’s cafe scampi chap, alright chap? Boston stump ya fall off splatter! Beef jerky, after hours in the farmshop Restaurant bar keys in a bowl murky, legs eleven 100 % dolphin friendly nets in caravan kitchen heaven
We ain’t got a lot and I don’t want gods plan. Is it 25 pound a month for the handset and free calls to the promised land? X2
I don’t want gods Plan is it 25 pound a month and free calls to the promised land
Discourse
You cant be bragging cos you said you made a load
of fry ups for the coach when it came off the road
Ya nitty and said ya knocked out 22
But I knew that wasn’t right cos I watching you
Who wants me
Don’t talk about it
Even after half 3
Don’t talk about it x2
They got you in the warehouse
With a Nail gun
And they all went through you slowly
After snorting some
But even in the glare of hindsight we
We never touch the real feeling
Just the empty Discourse
Who wants me
Don’t talk about it
Even after half 3
Don’t talk about it x2
We never touch the real feeling just the empty discourse x2
The petrol station meant that you
Got extra time
And the drivers would appreciate the quiet smile
The yellow and the red under a sheet of night
As I smoked in time with the generator’s eyes
Who wants me
Don’t talk about it
Even after half 3
Don’t talk about it x2
We never touch the real feeling just the empty discourse x2
It’s all dirt on the public canvas
Watch the Kirbs soak up this madness
There’s only one course, discourse x4
End
Negative Script
I favoured being out of it but I got tricked by my tiny mind
I didn’t want sit here and loosen up to a Rythm I thought was tight
I still want to be rid of it, i favour being dumb, I don’t want an awakening i don’t believe in fun
I favoured being out of it but I got tricked by my tiny mind
There ain’t no sun down there
No brakes for all this kind
There ain’t fields in summer
Where wheat grows from the shine
What breaks the skin in this
Of age and life’s true mist
Of all the grief in bread
That dough brings when it’s made
The light gets fade and time lit
While you go out ya mind
The bus don’t smell of roses
But the bins are always kind
I’ll take it as it comes lit
No change from whatever note
These street lights are the pointers
On the cold and quiet roads.
I don’t wanna flip the page
Of my negative script
That cornered my young age
And ran away with it
End
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