1. |
||||
|
Get so careless, such strange substance
Smoke ring haloes my dome
Riding on blither brain
Along the grinding stone
Arms, knuckles and tips
Ankles, forearms and wrists
All calluses, tourniquet
Limbs with guitar strings
Shiver
In the echo
Of strings
In the ache
Of calluses
A wooden husk
To reverb the throb
And stick dead the miles
Of all paths I lost
Board my guitar, across the door
Against horn-blasted world
Boot lands the floor
In a sound of rage I’ll stick it where it shouldn’t
Need a poke, for a sleep
In this ditch, I need an itch
Fingertips, all tattooed by
Tangled tuning lariats
Calluses, pitch to me
Your rich ideas
Cool them finger strains
Stir a whirlpool in my glass,
Cool them cracked lips
With a kiss on cold brass
To throw out the throb, so
Shiver
In the echo
Of strings
In the ache
Of calluses
|
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2. |
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|
The vape kids, the cigarette kids
Puff their fingers smoky
Smother me smoke pillow
Cough cough cough it up, there's a
carcinogenic choke
At every corner
The sky’s a cataract
Over a red-hot
tarmac savannah
There's so much of anything
Swipe our hands through the fog
And the nothing
The streets choking
Choke choking!
Cough coughing!
It's all round here
And now it's a dull day
A grey day
The world is shrugging us astray
This mist just won’t give out
It's a dirty great grey round here
These gas clouds
In the sky
Will be mine
Till I die
No, It's a dull day
It's the great grey, all round here
I can’t see for shit
Through the gas and smoky dips
Blurs through a car window
tap tap tapping
Becomes sh-sh-shaking
But they murder words off tongues
The vape kids, the cigarette kids
Puff their fingers smoky
Smother me smoke pillow
There's an apocalyptic sky
What is dead cannot be alive?
The streets choking
Choke choking!
Cough coughing!
It's all round here
And now it's a dull day
A grey day
The world is shrugging us astray
This mist just won’t give out
It's a dirty great grey round here
These gas clouds
In the sky
Will be mine
Till I die
No, It's a dull day
It's the great grey, all round here
|
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3. |
||||
|
Illuminate lukewarm life
heart is beating tightly
Middle-class exposition
With cowboy boots on the side
Tastes good yet the same
Tastes good yet the same
Reduce me to mammal
Reduce me to instinct
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
He likes a man in uniform
I’m in for the long haul
He’s my reducer
I'm in a sweaty fever
tastes good yet the same
tastes good yet the same
A chain from a gloved hand
Reduced down to my knees
I'm reduced down to my knees
I'm reduced down to my knees
The whole world reduced to its knees
The whole world reduced to its knees
The world ends with a nuclear bang
The world ends with a nuclear bang
The world ends with a nuclear bang
Here we go again!
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
I'm in for the long haul
|
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4. |
||||
|
Look ye yonder!
Look ye yonder!
The dreary forecast of doubt!
Collect words to describe This world
One of concrete monasteries
And of taught chastised tongue
One of transgressive ways
And of flaunting anarchic tongue
Look e yonder
Look e yonder
On that wide open horizon
Discovery, transformations
An unfurling of tongues
A lesson to unlearn eachother's, lessons
Human grow tongue
The Darwin-style
Give us a pluck and strum
On that oral instrument
Record the world
Word for word
Word for word
Word for word
Word for word
Monk in Concrete Monastery
with morals in cheek, stone
words to describe his heart
He says give your thoughts no tongue
And he’s
Speaking in a monk tongue
Speaking in a monk tongue
Speaking in a monk tongue
Says give your thoughts no tongue
But there’s a motorcycle rider
Out on the horizon
Insubordinate one
He says give your thoughts a tongue
Monk-tongue along the braille of his spine
Seismic reading of the contour lines
Memorise all his body and mind
Speaking in a monk tongue
Speaking in a monk tongue
Speaking in a monk tongue
Speaking in a monk tongue
Now suckin' on a monk tongue
Suckin' on a monk tongue
Suckin' on a monk-tongue
New words to describe his heart
Tongue grow desire
The Soho style
With a whisper and a lighter
We’ll dig us a fire
On the very tip
Of a precipice, We’re on a pilgrimage
Away from concrete monastery
So tongues can speak freely
Monk and motorbiker
Bearing Freudian slip
It's a hedonistic kick
Now head to the cliff!
|
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5. |
Insanity.mp3
00:35
|
|||
|
TOBY WILL GET YOU IN YOUR SLEEP
|
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Double Yellow Lines Oxford, UK
Oxford-based alternative band, combining influences from post-punk, rock and more.
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