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pagan wanderer lu 2005


The ending makes what came before a story

Ignoring the warnings on cigarette packets
As if time goes in cycles or forward then back its
like first will come joy and then always come sorrow
and you could get hit by the future tomorrow
Your whole life has been building up to today
The orchestra swells the camera pans away
to reveal the climactical ephiphanies
like the first one you saw and all the ones in between

And we all feel the urge to see patterns emerge
but in truth what we�re looking for is
the ending which makes what came before a story
and if patterns emerge and we get what we deserve
what message are we sending?
If history makes what�s happening now an ending?

The good always triumph cos they write the history
and if any mouths open and dare contradict we
kill all non-believers and dig them mass graves
then talk in terms of the lives that we�ve saved by denying a moment of uncertainty
and implying there�s progress in infallibility
as if every step forward comes like penicillin
and nothing is random we�re all quite unwilling

to admit that you can see patterns in patches of sand
if you�re looking for it.
the ending makes what came before a story
and if patterns emerge and we get what we deserve
what message are we sending?
If history makes what�s happening now an ending?


Show me yr Knuckles

Show me yr knuckles they get you into trouble
They take and they shuffle the pieces of the puzzle
and you�re punching at buildings and kicking notice boards in
no ideas just fighting just for the sake of fighting

And the singers they struggle to figure out the puzzle
and they boil and they bubble and you�re nothing but trouble
these bruises and scars aren�t from playing a guitar
they�re from knockouts and blackouts and a creeping sense of self-doubt

This is taking too much time
watching puppies fall in line
and you go there for cheap wine
but you still forget to write
and it never means a thing
when the singers start to sing
and I�m tired of repetition but the clock is ticking

So we knuckle down and keep ourselves all stupid and scared
on the path of least resistance that will take us nowhere
I eat breakfast in the morning and my dinner at night
I�m fine with my unremarkable life

Patchwork and cross-stitch, no church sales for agnostics
we limp and we labour and owe no-one a favour
we�re kings of our castle and we don�t need the hassle
of drumsticks and burst lips and everyone�s a critic

and we all seek white knuckles and all prepare for trouble
and there�s locks on our cupboards and tinned food in our cellar
and we all hope our knuckles will keep us out of trouble
but we don�t put our dukes up to burst our precious bubble

This is taking too much time
watching puppies fall in line
and you go there for cheap wine
but you still forget to write
and it never means a thing
when the singers start to sing
and I�m tired of repetition but the clock is ticking

So we knuckle down and keep ourselves all stupid and scared
on the path of least resistance that will take us nowhere
I eat breakfast in the morning and my dinner at night
I�m fine with my unremarkable life
Jesus said �well you all must stay in bed
or you wont get any bread and I�ll shoot you in the head
then you�ll be dead and your friends will be upset
and your life will be regret and all remaining will be your debt�

So we knuckle down and keep ourselves all stupid and scared
on the path of least resistance that will take us nowhere
I eat breakfast in the morning and my dinner at night
I�m fine with my unremarkable life


Good Christian/Bad Christian

On Sunday my heart stops
My children born in wedlock
Caucasians/Eurasians
Who will protect our nation?
Sweet Jesus/Crowd Pleasers
We thank you for your business
Good Christian/Bad Christian
Come to my door with leaflets

I come to you with plans to be your leader
I come to you sing I�m a believer
Good Christian/Bad Christian
Baghdad can�t tell the difference

Anne Coulter/Cucumber
To pledge just call this number
Salvation/Train Stations
Tax deductible donations
No piercings no dreadlocks
My children born in wedlock
Disparage gay marriage
2000 year old adage

I come to you with plans to be your leader
I come to you sing I�m a believer
Good Christian/Bad Christian
Baghdad can�t tell the difference

When you�re singing your songs I�m a believer
When you�re dropping your bombs I�m a believer
Good Christian/Bad Christian
No god only religion


Keep the Weather Out

Well we fought some fights turned some wrongs into rights
and we�ve got a clearer conscience we can sleep at night
so it�s time to settle down for the rest of our lives
and be first time buyers if the price is right

Just you and me keeping company
inside our place and we can procreate
and we�ll build some walls to stop the roof from falling
down on our heads when we�re asleep in bed

Cos we�ve finally sicked six figures down
and we found ourselves a city and we�re checking it out
and there�s food on the table and a fire in the hearth
In our beautiful house with four walls to keep the weather out
We�re taking lots of pictures of the things that we�ve done
and we�ll buy a slide projector and show everyone
all the mediocre holidays in search of the sun
in our beautiful house with four walls to keep the weather out

Just you and me keeping company
inside our place and we can procreate
and we�ll build some walls to stop the roof from falling
down on our heads when we�re asleep in bed

And when we go on holiday we always come back
and we felt a bit guilty about the war on Iraq
but we don�t wanna be victims of a terror attack
In our beautiful house with four walls to keep the weather out
We�d probably better get ourselves a burglar alarm
just in case there�s any people who would do us some harm
and there�s a gun in the dresser and a dog in the yard
of our beautiful house with four walls to keep the neighbours out

Just you and me keeping company
inside our place and we can procreate
and we�ll build some walls to stop the roof from falling
down on our heads when we�re asleep in bed
Cos we�ve finally sicked six figures down
and we found ourselves a city and we�re checking it out
and there�s food on the table and a fire in the hearth
In our beautiful house with four walls to keep the weather out


(Sick of) Playing Solo

I�m sick of playing solo
I�m out of the game
I�m not a virtuoso
I�m not looking for fame
I need the gaps to be filled in
I miss the pound of the drums
But I just can�t play them
I need other musicians

Cos I don�t wanna drop dead and be an undiscovered great
And have my fanbase be subjected to those fucking awful tapes
That I made when I was fifteen just to satisfy demand
for some new unheard material I really need a band

And with a wash of keyboards
The thud of the bass
all nicely understated
every note in its place
I�m sick of playing solo
I wanna make some noise
after a perfect chorus
I�d say �Take it away boys!�
(erm� fuck)

It be nice to feel my stuff was getting recognised for real
Like that headline gig in Brighton where I almost met John Peel
I don�t just wanna be some quirky guy you saw once in the Bay
I wanna see my self-made EPs fetch a packet on eBay

But it�s not gonna happen
unless I get me a band
A bunch of decent musicians
who all think I�m the man
It�s not a case of ego
okay well maybe it is
I�ve just been playing solo
for nearly five years

And I don�t wanna get on stage and say �here�s one the drummer wrote�
or get some guy who thinks he Hendrix but can�t really play a note
stick his foot up on the monitor and bore the crowd to tears
with an improvised performance that will feel like it lasts years

Check out my guitar solo�


2 Bullets

2 Bullets nothing to it
two bodies we can do it
we can stop it if we do it
nobody�s gonna do it yet
I�m gonna put this thing to bed

Men and women wives and children
you can save them but you�ll kill them
every single other person�s
gonna get a bullet in the head
so I�ll give you one instead

2 bullets nothing to it
take a picture while I do it
you can see what I�ll achieve
if I can only get up out of bed
and put a bullet in your head.

O Peter! (won�t you hear my mournful strum?)

O Peter won�t you hear my mournful strum?
O Peter won�t you see what you�ve become?
O Peter won�t you take my hand and join with me and sing?
and raise your voice in harmony and let those wires ring!

O Peter won�t you hear my mournful strum?
O Peter won�t you see what you�ve become?
Your Jingle Jangle bitches they distract you from the truth
Remember how you dug up cricket pitches in your youth?
O pictures of your youth�

O Peter won�t you hear my mournful groove?
O Peter don�t you want your ass to move?
O Peter won�t you clench your fists and show me you�re a man?
And stand up and be counted now and do it cos you can
O Peter be a man!


Jabita Nu-Orleenz!

I lost my soul to a life support machine
This is the future of the teenage apocalypse
I have a friend and she calls me mother
What makes you proud of your little brother?

J�habite � New Orleans

I lost my girl to a mobile library
They sold her secrets while she sleep beside me
I gotta speak when I hear the tone
I got the soul of a mobile phone

J�habite � New Orleans


The Memorial Hall

Left to your own devices
You will forget the Memorial Hall
See in the faded newsprint
Thumbs up from the Pals
as they wave us goodbye
I�ve got a girl back home
I wrote her a letter
I don�t suppose I�ll get a reply
I only hope she�ll remember my name

Poppies we buy to remember
They sell to forget in Afghnistan
With our faith in the hands of bricklayers
We know we can sleep deep inside it�s walls
And as I sleep in your hands tonight
and those walls shake with our dancing inside
We understand that our tributes alright
Except that there will be more�

Now we remember the disco
They�re holding tonight at the Memorial Hall
I hope to meet eyes with your sister
As she stands like a flower by a plaque on the wall
But the alcohol kicks in and somehow instead
the words on the plaque just take over my head
I think I shouldn�t be dancing with so many dead
But I�m wrong

If there�s a point to the fighting
any point at all
It�s so we can dance in the Memorial Hall

And if drunkenness leads us to conflict
Supporting the Troops versus Not in my Name
Someone gets bored change the subject
Before I explain how they can be the same
If we don�t get revenge then the Bad Guys have won
If the winners aren�t good guys that�s what they become
The only point in life is just to have fun
But you�re wrong�

If there�s a point to the fighting
any point at all
It�s so we can dance in the Memorial Hall


At the hairdressers

Can you see him in this picture?
That�s my husband that�s my Victor
When I last saw him in our kitchen
He said he was off to see his sister
And I cannot bear to think why he was in that part of town
Cos Everybody knows that�s where loose women hang around

Now I�m here at the hairdressers
and I�m blubbing to a stranger
About a picture in the paper
and I think that there�s a danger
That I�ll just shave all my hair off and have a nervous breakdown
You think that you know someone then they go and let you down

My hair has seen better days
I feel so stupid
He kept saying he was working late
And I believed him

So she passes me this picture
of her husband of her Victor
I see now it�s an obituary
Loving father spouse of Mary
Witnesses describe a group departing from the scene
Four young lads just noticed as of ethnic origin

And I feel strangely indifferent
to this hack-job description
Of another tragic victim
Of our failing social system
And I know exactly why they found him in that part of town
It was right on that street corner that I used to hang around

Oh Victor you should be ashamed
How could you do this?
You bought a house to settle down and procreate
What happened to it?

Is it wrong to think?
That this could be
a blessing in diguise
The Eulogy
I must compose
must now consist of lies

My hair has seen better days
I feel so stupid
He kept saying he was working late
And I believed him

So I pick up my Victor
From his babysitter
And I drive past the corner
see the floral tributes
To a well respected member of our small community
And though tongues will wag no one will state it quite explicitly

That he was just pathetic
and I don�t regeret it
That I never said a thing
I never spilled the beans
To anyone who�d pass it on to Mary and I�m glad
But I still won�t know what to say when Victor asks me about his dad�


Harp & Chainsaw

We die laughing
Cars keep crashing
Doors slam violently
And I think
We should look both ways before we
Cross the street
Please don�t ignore me

Forget me not
When you catch up
With that distant flaming tow-truck
We can�t keep up
With your standup
Comedy that belittles us


Yr on my shoulder

You�re on my shoulder
Every day and every night
You�re on my shoulder
and it�s to you I�ve got to justify

Everything I believe
every film that I see
every book that I read
all the food that I eat
every library I join
every march I go on
I feel I�ve got to justify

You�re on my shoulder
Every day and every night
You�re on my shoulder
and it�s to you I�ve got to justify

Every thought that I think
All the juice that I drink
Every march I go on
Every new decision
Every black friend I make
Every honest mistake
I feel I�ve got to justify them

You�re on my shoulder
Every day and every night
You�re on my shoulder
and it�s to you I�ve got to justify my life


Goodnight/Nos Da

Goodnight, to all the eye candy that stops me from sleeping
Goodnight, I�ve got a job to do and you keep on waking me
Cos with your sequins and your secrets and your sister said�
You�re sleeping sound inside a silent cell inside your head

Goodnight

Goodnight, to all the nest egg children financial meetings
Goodnight, to all the pretzel bombs the presidents been eating
Cos with a lying heart and empty head he�ll bomb the world
I�ll drink alcohol and try to stick my fingers in some girl

Goodnight

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