NEW - SLICE 'N' DICE
NEW - THE BALLAD OF THE DAILY PREACHER
NEW - Next To You, FOREVER
NEW - NOTHING ELSE TO DO
CATTLE-RANCH (All American Guy Radio Edit) 7" Coloured Green
Vinyl LIMITED EDITION
Scaring Little Albert – The second album
Infected Milk - debut album
Click on the song titles to view the lyrics.
I wanna reach out to that tired look in your eye,
Strap yourself in ‘cos we’re going for a ride,
I wanna tear down the middle of the road,
And rip it up with my tyres of stone.
The Rats of War,
(It’s all that we’re good for),
I wanna fight for those by my side,
And when I die I wanna feel as though I fought to survive,
I wanna hear the screams of the mighty fall,
The Cabaret of The Rat is the song in us all.
The Rats of War!
The sweet sound of tooth and claw.
She’s the goddess of doom,
She works at Burger King,
And with her black hair,
Blue eyes,
And her perpetual look of scorn,
She’s everything I could want,
She’s everything and more.
I’d like to take her on a date,
On a bright summer’s day,
With all the sights,
The sounds,
Of life at it’s most beautiful,
She’s ‘emo’ through and through, you know,
My beautiful, miserable girl.
She keeps telling me that everything’s fucked,
And she lives a constant hell,
At home, with her mom,
Her dad,
And her pony, and her dog,
She’s the latest incarnation,
She’s a brand new goth.
Hey there, brand new goth,
Come back to my place,
(My place, let me put a smile upon your face).
Took a drive ‘round my mind early yesterday,
Took a wrong turn at Happy St., well what can I say?
Demanded directions from my own pathetic ego,
He laughed, spat in my face before mocking my libido.
Decided I needed to lighten-up,
So I took some ‘profen and downed a shot,
I felt so better, no desire to rave and rant,
I was going to give my fellow man a fighting chance.
Chorus:
Give me strength, Brittania, give me strength, Brittania,
And don’t try and placate me with some fake messiah,
Give me strength, Brittania, give me strength, Brittania,
Try some cheap alcohol and some pure desire.
And hey-diddely-dee,
What the hell did I see?
Special-brewed-up fuck-ups
Yelling abuse at a tree,
And hey-diddely-do,
Well, what do you know?
A twat just punched his girl
And filmed it on his mobile phone.
And hey-fucking-fi,
My anger’s rising all the time,
As glass gets smashed, and friends are glassed,
And another poor sap dies,
And everything that I saw,
Made me boil at the core,
I’ve never been so certain,
I can’t take this anymore!
As time goes by I wonder why
If living here may be a waste of time,
Maybe emigrate, ‘Hang on! Just wait. Where to?
You haven’t got a fucking clue’,
Australia perhaps, somewhere hot and fun,
Oh hang on, no, they hate the poms, and besides, ‘Hark! What’s that scream?’
It’s me! In the sea! With my leg in a shark!
Best stay around and see if things get done,
If they don’t I’m going underground,
I’m going underground, I’m gonna Google around,
I’m Google around for a sniper gun,
I’ll be a serial killer for the people, take shots from the roof, from a steeple,
‘Just leave it Barry, let it go!’ As he raises his fist for another blow..BAM-BAM!
Give me strength, give me fire,
Give me someone to admire,
Give me sleep, give me peace
From the dickhead on the street.
THE CENTURY OF THE BULLET & THE RAZOR
Little Bo-Peep she took a trip to Spain,
Drank away her senses and lost her way,
The Wolf followed her into the rain,
And whispered to her, “This is your lucky day”.
Left her crying and bleeding in the gutter,
And as the rain came down you could hear him mutter:
“Too easy, little girl, no strength to muster,
Praise this age of the bullet and the razor”.
Little Jack Horner he cowers in the corner,
Weeping into his shaking hands,
The Wolf appears in the doorway,
Drunken fury, belt, fist, sick demands,
The House of Leaves falls to the ground
Another child lies crying in the gutter,
The Wolf he howls his praise,
For this age of the bullet and the razor.
And once upon a sorry, sorry time,
In the venal land of the damned you can taste the slaughter,
And we all lived so barely ever after.
Chorus:
It’s so easy to look the other way,
In this age of easy money and easy murder,
Oh, it’s so easy to look the other way,
In this century of the bullet & the razor.
Mary, Mary, she tends to her garden,
A paradise truly to behold,
She’s nurtured this Eden for so long now,
Her love for the earth never ever grows cold,
The Wolf grabs Mary by the neck,
And screams, “How will your garden grow?
After I’ve raped the sky and fucked the land,
You’ll waste away to skin and bone”.
9 am, breakfast, wipes commission from his eyes,
There’s a scandal to be found amongst the garbage and the flies,
Yes, fly, birdie, fly, watch you from the power line,
Little ugly duckling, Louie’s gonna make you shine.
Nice suit Louie, the cut is so divine,
Designer-darling Louie, oh fax me ‘till I die,
I pale into insignificance, obscurity’s a crime,
The clown he laughs at anything
And that painted face is scarring mine.
There’s a place for you in heaven,
Next to God’s own sonny-boy,
You say it’s just a job, I say never,
Suck the toes of the wafer-thin media toy.
Louie comes alive as the horror hits TV,
He pops another valium as his wallet starts to bleed,
Hands in his pockets, standing proud in ecstasy,
His self-abuse is infamous, there’s no love for poor Louie.
Join the dots, and see where it goes,
Family life or suicide,
Win their hearts or lose your face,
With a .45 or powder lines,
Sad old government role, you needed to be in the cheap limelight,
And when you realise the mistake you’ve made,
Louie will sell your story to satellite.
FACE DOWN IN A GUTTER IN LONDON CITY
Another night wasted, the oblivion of youth,
I’m standing out like every other coma-chameleon,
Picked a fight with a guy who threw his beer in my face,
I’m drunk, high, and operating in a very explosive state.
Face down in a gutter in London City,
Would have contemplated life if I didn’t feel so shit,
So many substances flowing through my system,
I put ‘em there to justify my own existence.
Gabba-gabba-hey,
I really don’t know what I’m saying,
I spend my time out of mind,
Gabba-hey!
Just give me a minute.
Just leave it Barry, let it go.
Don’t remember much apart from my own blood on the kerb,
Outside some burger-joint called ‘Cow-Face’ or something, I’m not sure,
Took a liberty with some guy’s girlfriend’s sister,
Dunno who she was but he broke my nose after I tried to kiss her,
Face down in a gutter in London City,
Would have contemplated life if I didn’t feel so shit,
Gabba-gabba-hey,
I really don’t know what I’m saying,
I spend my time out of mind,
Gabba-hey!
Just give me a minute.
It was a first date,
Nothing complicated you know, just a date,
Pretty lil’ thing she was,
A pretty lil’ thing from Margate,
I met her in a cocktail bar in Preston,
She was working as a waitress,
And with a silver ring through her septum,
Shining like a star in heaven.
I charmed her through the Lambert & Butler haze,
I told her, I told her
Her eyes reminded me of Jesus,
She said I was good-looking,
And though I already knew it,
It still sounded so very cool to hear it.
And when the feeling’s feeling right,
We’re gonna turn down the lights,
We’re gonna hold each other tight,
We’re gonna watch some porn tonight.
We arranged to meet,
At Yates down the street,
Though I had my doubts,
‘Cos you can’t hear shit in there,
She said she was looking forward to it,
And I concurred,
I left with a spring in my step, wondering
If she had anymore piercings.
Everything was perfect,
We chatted, we laughed,
She got pretty drunk, and I,
I got to feel her ass,
Took her back to my bedsit,
In a town-house, on the second floor,
Then I fucked up, I asked if she wanted to watch
Teenage Sluts Do Anal 4.
She was a pretty lil’ thing.
I had a dream there was you and me, girl
Having sex in the back of a limousine.
‘Oh how silly, o what a dream,
I really can’t see us boy,
Having sex in the back of a limousine’.
Horny luxury transportation,
And the suspension rocks.
O can you not imagine the scene girl,
Of you and me having sex in the back of a limousine.
Let’s play the scene, let’s live the dream,
Of you and me on a leather seat,
Having sex in the back of a limousine.
Here’s to love
Here’s to sex
Here’s to friends
Here’s to cunts
Here’s to heroes
Here’s to fools
Here’s to girls who love it all,
Here’s to rock
Here’s to funk
Here’s to glam
Here’s to punk
Here’s to reggae
Here’s to jazz
And here’s to every single fucking dirty rat.
Hand-in-hand, it seems like a cliché song,
You find that one you were meant to meet all along,
I say screw all the critics,
And the cramp-handed cynics,
And take it for what it is, yeah
I’m in love.
I can sing and rant about all that is wrong
In my life, in your life,
Yeah, we are all gods,
But I do need someone to help carry me along,
And that woman I found, I’m so lucky, yeah
I’m in love.
Lying in bed, with her head on my shoulder,
She whispers in my ear,
“You’re my soldier”.
With a beached chimpanzee,
And a song for you and me, from A to Zee,
Damn, a yankee twang,
Has kicked me in the knees,
There’s a girl I meet across the street,
And with her blond fur cut neat,
Well for a swinger
She’s so pretty, pretty.
M-m-m-monkey
(I wanna see ya) surf monkey.
Ba-ba-ba-ba baboon boy in a bubble bath,
Maybe saving Greystoke’s ass on a jungle path,
All the time a-dreaming of a waxing vinyl track,
Your atypical, lyrical trailer-park primate trash.
Can you hear the jungle beat go a ooh-ooh,
Swingin’ on down with the boys from Brazilio,
Carmen Electra’s giving it on video,
And all the time I’m thinking of a girl I new in Rio,
There’s a drink on the bar with my name on in stereo,
Tequila sunrise, night-time, whatever Joe,
Kong’s at a party kicking out a window,
Monkeys on the beach and now I’m really going to have to go.
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pale of water,
Jack made a pass at Jill's sweet ass
So she brained him with a chunk of mortar .
Jack fell down, but didn't break his crown,
Jill did that later whilst dressed in plastic,
She lit a spliff, and licked her lips,
Then took the Duck tape out of
her basket
Three hours later, poor Jack was dead,
His blood haemorrhaging into the sky,
Jill thought, ‘This looks poor; I’ll hang for sure,
I’m gonna need a fool-proof alibi’.
She said,
Jack and Jill went up the hill,
To fetch a pale of water,
Jack fell down, and broke his crown,
And Jill came tumbling after.
(That was the official Police report into the fatal injuries sustained to Mr. Jack Spratt, as recounted by Ms. Jill Bordern. Verdict: accidental death).
I’m watching a girl take a shower,
Oh Norman can you hear your mother scream,
This is prime-time porn, not some second-rate shit
That I’ve whacked-off to watching European TV,
She dries herself down,
At first appearing coy and shy,
Then she spreads her legs, lying on the bed,
And winks at the camera in the sky.
And now she’s on the front page of the Daily Preacher,
I don’t care, I just wanted to see you bare,
Not hosting a show on Channel 5,
And one day she’ll be found face down,
Drowning in the waters of shallow fame,
So let’s build a monument in Piccadilly, my friend,
And then I’m gonna piss on it until I die.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Little star.
I’m speeding at one million miles an hour,
With four or five wraps of powder,
I’ve got a taste in my mouth that’s so sour,
I’ve got the radio on.
Sterile bands with puppet hands,
Another brain-dead troupe, another Summer of Sam,
God the monkey, god the man,
“Christ, where’s the remote-control, Diane?”
Celebrity-chefs? Now here’s a rhyme,
Just add a dash of cyanide,
A stupid old woman who can’t even drive?
That’s entertainment? She’s a risk to lives!
Traffic wardens, tax collectors,
Artful dodgers and sumo wrestlers,
A novelty song about Jack the Ripper?
“Can you fix it”, yeah, I’m a serial killer,
And what next, ‘Henry: A Portait Of A Mild-Mannered Janitor’? (“Could be!”)
I’ve got the radio on…
Oh fuck off.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Don’t give a shit what the commies say,
Give me mac ‘n’ fries every-day,
I say the boss is a real swell guy,
He drinks beer and eats cherry-pie.
I’m goin’ out to the US of A,
With Jesus by my side,
I’m gonna buy me a cattle-ranch.
Don’t give a damn about the towel-heads or the poor,
I just want green-backs spilling on to the floor,
I wanna beat-up bums, and make whores scream,
Give me God, guns, Disney and the American dream.
I’m going for a drive in my pick-up truck,
Find a hitch-hiking chick to drug and fuck,
Take her back to my ranch and slice her up,
‘Cos Uncle Sam always loves a murdering schmuck,
I’m going for a drive in my pick-up truck,
Find a hitch-hiking chick to drug and fuck,
Take her back to my ranch and slice her up,
I wanna be an American serial-killing son-of-a-gun!
Hey pretty girl, remind me what’s your name,
I got money in my wallet, what do you say?
Got your number from a guy who works in the city,
An’ I feel like spoiling myself with someone so pretty.
You’re such a pretty, pretty, pretty high-class hooker.
I’m gonna take you to a fine dining place,
You can hang off my arm and bring a smile to my face,
My mates will all be jealous as fuck,
You could even fall for me with a little luck.
And how much extra to lick your skin?
How much extra for some sweet, tight ass?
How much extra for a shower of gold?
And how much extra for handcuffs and candle-wax?
I got the money, got the money,
She’ll fuck for me.
(“I got the hips, I got the lips, I got the tits, I got the power!”).
Looking in the mirror,
No matter what I see,
The face staring back
Is all I’ll ever be,
All my dreams, ambition and drive?
I am what I am,
And I’ve never felt so alive.
I’ve taken some risks, some paid off
Some took the piss,
And when I fell, sometimes there I laid,
Well baby, what can I say?
Welcome to my cabaret.
All those years of nothing at all,
Wasting time staring into my soul,
Well why couldn’t I get through to you?
Now my beautiful world is as good as new.
I’ve lost some whom I have loved,
So-called friends have come and gone,
I’ve been close to giving up
But I’ve always given it another shot,
And when I look into my tired eyes
I realise I’ve never felt so alive,
Well, baby, what can I say?
Welcome to my cabaret.
I’m going through an age of security,
I’ve had a twinkle in my eye since zero-three,
The days of giving a toss are history,
I’m gonna ask that girl there if she’ll sleep with me.
There’s a girl over there, she looks so groovy!
There’s a girl in the corner, she looks so groovy!
Hey! Girl at the bar, you look so groovy!
How can they resist a drunken kiss,
Christ, my life has come to this?
Chorus:
I’ve asked you once, I may ask you twice,
If I ask again, punch me in the face,
Maybe I just need to sleep it off,
Or maybe I just need love?
It’s all going wrong, a girl calls me ‘creepy’,
I’m starting to sweat, feeling a little clammy,
I’ll have another drink, maybe a double whisky,
There must be a girl here who’ll sleep with me.
The girl that told me to ‘Fuck off!’, she looks so groovy!
The girl calling security, she looks so groovy!
The girl with the killer punch! Ow!
My nose is bust and I stick of piss,
Christ, my life has come to this?
And as I stumble back home, down a dark alley,
I’m sick on myself, I’m so messy,
And as I start to pass out, I see these eyes staring at me,
A stray dog has decided that he’ll sleep with me.
CATTLE-RANCH
(All-American Guy Radio Edit)
Don’t give a damn what the hippies say,
A burger ‘n’ fries for me every-day,
Blow away wild turkey and hang out with the guys,
No commie’s gonna take away our beer and cherry pie.
I’m goin’ out to the US of A,
With Jesus by my side,
I’m gonna buy me a cattle-ranch.
Couldn’t care any less about foreigners or the poor,
I just want green-backs spilling on to the floor,
A payment on a trailer or a brand new TV,
Give me God, guns, Disney, the American dream.
I’m goin’ out to the US of A,
With Jesus by my side,
I’m gonna buy me a cattle-ranch.
I wanna take a drive in my pick-up truck,
Find a bar and a dame and we’ll both get drunk,
Take her back to my ranch and we’ll get it on,
While Uncle Sam keeps telling me that I’m number one.
I wanna take a drive in my pick-up truck,
Find a bar and a dame and we’ll both get drunk,
Take her back to my ranch and we can get it on,
I wanna be an American bourbon-swilling son-of-a-gun!
I’m goin’ out to the US of A,
With Jesus by my side,
I’m gonna buy me a cattle-ranch.
And I’m a true believer of the stars and the stripes,
Of calories, cops and criminals and the F.B.I.
My culture demands a life of shallow indignity,
Welcome to my cattle-ranch, the united states of me.
Doctor, Doctor, you gotta get a move on,
You gotta help me please,
A severe lack of vanity,
And you’re the man who can help, I do believe.
Doctor, Doctor, you gotta get a move on,
You gotta help me please,
A stitch in time will save my nine,
Said the pussy as she tore up meat, yeah.
Doctor, Doctor, you gotta make time now,
You gotta help me please,
Med school has paid off sweet,
Ringmaster at the Circus of Freaks.
Help me find my beauty within,
You need to take me down another layer of skin,
Help me, Doc! I’m haemorrhaging!
CHORUS:
Slice ‘n’ dice is gonna take your money-honey, money-honey,
Slice ‘n’ dice is gonna make you ugly-honey, funny-funny.
And the rhythm of the stitch,
It goes cha-cha-cha-cha, HA! HA! HA!
Doctor, Doctor, thank you kindly,
We’re so very pleased,
I spend my time with much younger cream,
And the wife’s face is like a movie-screen.
Doctor, Doctor, you gotta make time now,
You gotta help me please,
I’ve been done for child pornography
And the wife’s face is…just…pus.
A drunkard with a scalpel,
And a dollar-sign for a soul,
The closest to eternal youth,
Is your winning smile frozen cold,
To keep your pride and your vanity,
You’ll lose what’s left of your own sick humanity, and ironically,
At the end you’ll see,
You’ll resemble nothing more than a goddamn monstrosity,
“But I’m so pretty!” you scream at me,
As your stitches tear,
And you slowly…start…to…bleed.
And the rhythm of the stitch, and the slice ‘n’ dice hitch,
It goes cha-cha-cha-cha, HA! HA! HA!
THE BALLAD OF THE DAILY PREACHER
You can't go out for a drink tonight,
You will end up in a knife-fight,
You can't go out to the market tomorrow,
You will buy yourself a whole world of sorrow,
You can't go out on a date next week,
You will be found wrapped in plastic sheet,
You can't hold hands with your lover at all,
You will catch some disease, some disease, and fall…
CHORUS:
We don't need you,
We need your words like a knife in the gut,
We don't need you,
We need your opinion like a bomb, like a bomb on a bus.
You can't leave your children alone,
They will burn asleep in your own home,
You can't pay someone to baby-sit,
That's a whole world of pain, don't even think about it,
You can't trust that guy next to you on the train,
You will be scared of what his backpack may contain,
You cannot stare in awe at that shooting-star,
It will be a piece of a rock, a fuck-off rock, from afar…
Sing to me, sing to me, sing to me,
The ballad of the Daily Preacher.
The only thing left to do is panic.
When I first saw you in the precinct,
With your red shoes, highlights and hips ‘n’ lips,
I wanted there and then to make a promise so true,
I’ll always be there next to you.
And when you got past that initial wariness,
And accepted my offer of dinner at Pizza Express,
Over calzone I stared into eyes so blue,
I’ll always be there next to you.
And when we got it on for the first time,
And you were patient and kind, and really didn’t mind,
When I did that thing that I really like to do,
I’ll always be there next to you.
And as the time passed so blissfully,
And I even considered going down on one knee,
To confess devotion through and through,
I’ll always be there next to you.
And when we threw glass for the first time,
Over something I can’t now remember why,
Our love was strong, all couples argue
I’ll always be there next to you.
And when you wanted us to buy a place to call our own,
You understood when I said that I didn’t know,
A relationship needs space to work, this I knew, but
I’ll always be there next to you.
And when you rented out your spare room,
To a guy, a guy I thought had shifty eyes,
You had a little more cash for new clothes and shoes,
And generally seemed a lot happier.
And all those times you tried to see inside my mind,
I always adored the way you squinted those lil’ blue eyes,
It made you look like a woman beyond her years,
So beautiful, yet so racked by guilt and fear,
And whilst I was taking a shower,
And you were downstairs flirting with the lodger,
You took a moment to go through my phone sms,
And found that message from the manageress of the Pizza Express…
Fuck.
And all those times you came home late,
Passing out, waking up having pissed the sheets,
Did you honestly think I’d find that so cute?
That I’d always be there next to you?
And that thing in bed that I really liked?
You said that it was pretty sad and laughable,
And you’d told your mates, ‘What a freak!’ they cried,
‘You’re better off with that guy with the funny eyes’.
Well lest not forget your complete lack of sex drive,
At least I tried to add some spice,
I almost chafed myself raw whacking off to make amends,
For your complete dull approach to giving head.
‘What did you expect, I find you repulsive’, she said,
‘And we’ve both been sleeping around,
So what comedian is love, when now I can’t even stand
To look at your fucking face’.
Taylor took the car keys from the drawer, he knew just where they were,
It was a battered old Ford with the all the will in the world,
He had a pack of cigarettes and some cash from an online sale that had just come through,
It wasn’t much but there was nothing else to do.
He had placed a call on his mobile phone,
To the name programmed in to speed dial 2,
She was the girl who he had met Friday night at the club,
And in his soul he knew there was nothing else to do.
But drive.
Jeanie had a heart forged from hardship and loss,
A young life lived so far in broken dreams,
Sixteen years without a hope in the world,
But tonight her heart, as hard as diamond, it shone like gold.
She heard a car pull-up outside her home,
The night was dark, the cloud was low,
Her mother asleep beside another man she didn’t know,
She grabbed her bag as the tears began to flow,
She thought of little Emmi, her little sister, her little Blue
She had left a photo in her room with the words ‘I’ll always think of you’,
And as she wiped her eyes, and looked outside through the slight street-light,
She saw in the battered old Ford the boy she knew she adored so fucking much.
Let’s go.
Taylor and Jeanie drove away together that night,
In their hearts they knew that that was right,
If they stayed their souls would die,
Never knowing what it meant to be truly alive.
They knew that it was gonna be tough,
They knew that the road ahead was gonna be rough,
But they knew that their love was true,
They knew that there was really nothing else to do.
They knew their love was true,
They knew that there was really nothing else to do.