© pagan wanderer lu 2007
The Gentlemen’s Game
Matthew is bleeding from his mouth
Working as a volunteer referee
What you fucking Raqi’s doing in our country anyway?
We all love to live vicariously
We are all volunteers
Matthew is bleeding from his mouth
Sell Space
Are you listening to this song?
This song’s the ideal vehicle
“PWL Shit Cloths” are the greatest cloths in the world
Perfection or a Simple Life
And if they find those bodies buried under your immaculate lawn
If they could regress you back to
Life is a ladder it’s true
A simple life I look both ways before I step on anyone’s toes
Until they work out how to charge you
There were no bodies hidden
Norman Kember
Put your faith in the hands of a bricklayer
Tree of Knowledge
Popplewell, Tillotson, Leverhulme, Gandalf
Teacher! Teacher! Spray the foam on the…
The Tree of Knowledge grows from barren ground here
Thick, strong planks in the walls of a boys’ club
My school reunion is not gonna happen
Pray yourself to the top of the ladder
These are the best days of our lives…
The Black Death
England, you don’t believe in anything
We’re trapped inside the storm from all the butterflies
And if people could learn not to keep throwing their own faeces in the street
England, you don’t believe in anything
Is it nature or nurture or just apathy
000s & 111s
I’m a kid at a bus stop going to the municipal pool to meet my friends
But when I get there every single window’s tished in
Zeroes and ones, zeroes and ones….
I’m a second generation bus stop kid
Now we hang around the shopping center
Zeroes and ones, zeroes and ones….
Repetition 4 (Simple Life)
Do I seek a simple life?
It’s easy to say ‘create if you want to’
And if we’re all just machines
I wish I was on medication
I am just machine
We are all machines for dancing
And when I lose my faith in song
Eskomolto (for antonio)
Charlie and me
Andy, tell me
You know we've come from Mexico
Andy, where've you been?
All lyrics written by Andy Regan
Perfection R.I.P.
The knuckles of the hands he shook
They knocked him down
The Asylum Seekers had a shit goalkeeper
And the Young Offenders had some crap defenders
Well who won the match?
You know…. I can’t remember
It’s not your job to keep the peace
You’d think asylum seekers would be peaceful people
And that young offenders would have to keep their temper
Well who started the fight?
You know…. I can’t remember
Fuck you, motherfucker. We can kick your asses any day
Take out your aggression on the pitch
This is a gentleman’s game
Through the sporting achievements of our country
But if an asylum seeker could be England keeper
Then our team winning would just lose all meaning
And a kick in the mouth
Well that could just be the beginning…..
(we do what we want when we want to)
Even the ones who
Don’t really live here
The knuckles of the hands he shook
They knocked him down
Then so are your customers
And there’s room for sale in the final verse
Five hundred pounds a word
To get your message out
To the 18-30 ‘indietronica’ fan demographic
They’re tough on stains and spillages
And they’ll get you girls
Not from this life, the one before
Ah ah ah…
Would that then prove perfection was never really within your grasp?
Another finger in the dam?
Ah ah ah…
Some other life you’ve lived through
Does that suggest you’ve no control
Ah ah ah…
But all the rungs are sawn through
By errors in the life before
Ah ah ah…
But still they kick me when I’m down
Ah ah ah…
The only place perfection’s found is between people making love
That’s why it’s all but not allowed
Ah ah ah…
For stuff that you get up to
They’ll have to try to sell you more
Ah ah ah…
When you dug up the garden
Maybe they were never there at all?
Ah ah ah…
Use your faith, train Saddam as a bricklayer
Spray the foam on the boy’s pectoral
The apples fall from the trees in the distance
Read the names on the corridors of power
Engorged phalluses with rich parents
Our education there is none finer
The hierarchy of sin is implicit
Heaven forfend you go near a vagina
The Tree of Knowledge can fuck my apples
I took a bite now I can’t stay happy
The Tree of Knowledge can fuck my apples
Only the chosen return to the garden
Make racist jokes until the asian kids join in
Christians like you are why God invented lions
Well you ruined mine
That’s why every high street in the country looks the same
But I’d rather build a mosque than any more retail parks
The Trafford Centre scares me more than riding London trains
Of every single little thing we can’t be arsed to do
And it’s really easy just to blame The Government
But there’s really not a lot of them and there’s millions of you
During the Black Death
Maybe we can learn to throw out things in different bins
And if God made the world and God made people and people make a mess until
There’s no people left
Will the world still spin
With no one left to worship him?
And Hey kids! If you just believe in something….
You win a iPod
That’s why every teacher in the country looks depressed
We spawn children indifferent to achievement
All the while proclaiming how their country is the best
That’s causing all the bus shelters to shatter overnight?
We’re forgetting the lessons from our History
That downfall follows empire like fight follows fight
We are gonna have a good time good time
Head full of summer and a pocket full of change
Soon there’ll be nothing left to do in this town
So we’ll all stay home and we’ll all play with zeroes and ones….
Living with the legacy of all the buildings that my parents kicked in
Football field full of trees, youth club volunteers have quit
We buy cool clothes so we can look at each other
Headphones on so we can’t talk to each other
Head full of nothing and a pocket full of zeroes and ones….
Or is there life enough in these chords for two?
Do I seek a simple life?
Or is there life in these chords for me and lu….?
This brand new dance ain’t so easy to do
There aren’t enough hours in the day to create it all
We all seek a simple life
Some will dance and some will fight
Learn to dream with depression
Boil life’s questions down until they become
Endless usable fragments of….
Can music ever replace God?
For replicating genes
Then what the hell can any of this mean?
So I had something to stop taking
And I feel deep inside
There is nothing deep inside
Just a black space behind my eyes
And I sleep in her hands
And my conscience flows like sand
Through the pinch in the glass of my life
(we’re all just machines)
Your love’s what keeps me strong
we saw you supporting Leaves
Andy! Where've you been?
You say you've been busy
I thought you moved to another city...
What did you think of my cd?
Tell me the truth
did you even get to track 2?
We got out first review
"'Demo' - Eskomolto
What's with the interminable mock-latino vocals?"
All the way to Manchester
We thought music was better here
You say you've been busy
I thought you moved to another city...
©2006-2007