1. |
Uncle Joe
04:11
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Straight and True.
Good and Pure.
Incorruptible You.
Noble and Strong.
Confident....Sure.
Indestructible You.
Take this bread and eat my body.
Take this bread eat your fill.
Take this bread and eat my body.
The iron heart.Iron will.
Humble and Kind.
Compassionate and Serene.
Justified you.
Respectful and Loyal.
Complete peace of Mind.
Glorified You.
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2. |
Flower King
03:19
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I went a-trampling..tra,la,la,la.
On the road to the Flowerking..tra,la,la,la.
I met a Stratraling..tra,la,la,la.
He kept a-chatterling..tra,la,la,la.
He said the ground god is faltering..tra,la,la,la.
The wind she cries to the sun in the sky.
To her we must fly.
I walked a year-long day..tra,la,la,la.
To hear what great Sproke would say..tra,la,la,la.
He said the end-times are underway..tra,la,la,la.
The wind she cries to the sun in the sky.
To her we must fly.
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3. |
Pond Love
02:09
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Hey, Daisy sweet.
Do you like my webbed feet.
I think our feathers.
Would look good together.
Bobbing along the pond.
I see your crooked mouth.
I've been checking you out.
It's that time called Spring.
We should be doing our thing.
Bobbing along the pond.
From the moment I heard you sing.
My heart was buzzing like a dragonflys' wings.
I'm in love with you.
I'm in love with you.
Hey, Daisy sweet.
Will you marry me.
Please give your response.
My hearts' as big as a swan's.
Bobbing along the pond.
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4. |
Homeland Security
03:32
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The fox burst in.
Ruffled some feathers.
Annie get your gun.
Gather your flock together.
Hey homeland security.
Can you secure it for me?
Construct a wall one thousand feet high.
Surround by mines and razor wire.
Build a fortress then fortify.
With a million warrior soldiers with triggers ready to open fire.
Hey homeland security.
Can you secure it for me.
The fox burst in.
Got shot to pieces.
Said Allah be praised then cursed them.
Now the bombing never ceases.
My homeland security.
Gonna secure it for me.
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5. |
Still Waters
02:17
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Its hard to communicate .
When you hesitate on the phone.
Becomes so clear,it shows a fear.
Of being alone.
I know still waters run deep.
But you're a frozen landscape.
I'm your friend,I'm here to the end.
Don't show me the door.
Don't pay no mind,just trying to be kind.
Not trying to settle any score.
Still waters run deep.
You're a frozen landscape.
It's hard to be you,it's hard being me too.
There's just no other way.
I know you're blue ,best thing you can do.
Is call it a day.
Still waters run deep.
But you're a frozen landscape.
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6. |
Smile
03:08
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You've got a weak heart.
You're damaged goods.
You're no racehorse.
Your veins can't handle that bad blood.
Look for things to cling to.
Is it all worthwhile?
All the things life bring you.
Can no longer make you smile.
Into the great mist.
Cold drops on your skin.
Destroy all the ugliness.
That lingers within.
No more things to cling to.
Say farewell in style.
You've sat down and thought it through.
Look at the sky and smile.
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7. |
Oh Happy Nazi
04:03
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With a nod and a wink.
Tripping through fields of time.
Down murky side streets.
Pigs in uniform murdering swine.
Torchlit prosessions of the madmen.
Living up in the clouds.
Roaring abusive filth.
As the bullet enters through head bowed.
On the back of a flame breathing dragon.
Cruising down the Rhine.
Each dispicable act to be crushed.
By the mighty wheels of time.
And what have you left us oh happy nazi.
The truest form of inhumanity.
What have you left us oh happy nazi.
How nations can be led to the depths of depravity.
Eastern and western border towns.
Cattle trains.Leave suitcase- stand- strip.
He and his young son digging anti-tank trenches.
In freezing water up to the hip.
Tossing babies from top floor windows.
Beating the old ones to death.
Starving,gassing ,burning ,mutilating.
Work them to their last breath.
Psychopathic philosophies.
Insane ideologies.
There's a picture of you under atrocity.
In the dictionary.
And what have you left us oh happy nazi.
The purist form of inhumanity.
What have you left us oh happy nazi.
How weak minds can be led to the depths of depravity.
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8. |
A Saint
03:10
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Called on a friend.
Not a word could I speak.
I know he's right.
I'm so pathetic.I'm so weak.
They know it's wrong.
But don't utter a single complaint.
Still sing his song.
He's one miracle away from becoming a saint.
Been disillusioned.
Defiled and raped.
Tried to disappear.
There's no hiding place.
He eats their young.
With an appetite that shows no restraint.
Holds his forked tongue.
He's one miracle away from becoming a saint.
It's apples and oranges.
A seperate kettle of fish.
So if god is the genie.
Do I get one more wish?
His trinkets chime.
Such a squalid picture he paints.
This is his time.
He's one miracle away from becoming a saint.
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9. |
Artist
07:08
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Shoulda been an artist.
Doing my sketches in the sun.
Painting nudes in my studio.
Smoking grass and drinking rum.
Instead I'm humping heavy boxes.
Up a-ninety-nine steps.
Sweating my rocks off.
Sinking to new depths.
I coulda sculpted new life.
From a ball of clay.
Created symphonies and operas.
Wrote classic novels and witty plays.
I'm standing in the mud.
With my shoulder to the wheel.
Using my sweat and blood.
Until I can no longer feel.
I woulda been revered.
Like Joyce or Rembrandt.
But every voice that ever spoke.
Liked to say you can't.
Well I'm dropping these tools.
I'm stepping out of the murk.
Going back to my school.
Going to do some real work.
I shoulda been an artist.
Wonderfully misunderstood.
Dying alone in the gutter.
With a smile...
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10. |
John The Healer
03:22
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Walked into the room.
Guessed each name correctly.
All agreed it was a miracle.
They felt good instantly.
Shrunk a monkeys' head.
On the second sunday of each month.
Without the aid of barbituate.
Aspirin or anti-depressant.
He left everything to rust out in the rain.
John the healer.
Professed to sing aloud.
To chase away those everyday blues.
Televisual violence would not be allowed.
Bring bad news.
Awake at six a.m.
Not a shit did he care.
Ate a polluted apple.
Gave the frightened cat.
Another scare.
Retired to his quarters with dreams of reluctance and boredom.
John the healer.
He's got an internal, eternal spring of joy.
John the healer.
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11. |
Loyal
03:34
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He takes away so much.
Leaves not a crumb.
Follows fathers' footsteps.
He's deaf,blind and dumb.
She's wound up,bound up in a never ending coil.
But she's ever so loyal.
He can't give her any joy.
Still she's ever so loyal.
Her perspective gives creedence to the nonsense she serves.
Her assertiveness brings wire cutters to his frazzzled nerves.
Standing by the roadside.
Looking slightly ridiculous.
A mind that's on pause.
Locked onto the dead frozen fox.
He wonders aloud why it's all sweat and toil..
She's ever so loyal
He can't give her any joy
Still she's ever so loyal.
Her perspective gives creedence to the nonsense she serves.
Her assertiveness brings wirecutters to his frazzled nerves.
Drive through streets of Dublin.
When will they end?
Closing in on him.
It's a worrying trend.
He's just one more kettle coming to the boil.
Still she's ever so loyal.......
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12. |
Quest For Love
07:51
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He revilles in his work.
Got no idle hands.
Going to cleanse the heathen.
From the white mans' land.
His actions and his words.
Flow through every age.
Going to take his place.
On histories page......on his quest for love.
Comes a time.
When a man takes the reins.
Shakes up their snowglobes.
Force them into a change.
When the dust settles.
Common sense doth prevail.
Happy dumb dogs.
Wagging their tails...on their quest for love.
In the guise of a daemon spouting fiery breath.
Bring the mountains to Mohammad with each grisly death.
From the united nations to the bedouin tent.
His mission is complete, his message has been sent with....
Bombs and bullets.
Poison, torture and flame.
All have been used.
In his righteous name.
They even said Jesus.
He had a skewed world view.
They said "you're not a christian".
You're just a lowborn jew...on a quest for love...
Old black horse I stand like you.
Pensive in the rain.
Wait for life anew.
Tethered and lame.
With a sorrowful eye.
Almost beaten.
Not too proud to cry.
is this the fate of the universes?
is it worth the pain of the mother who bears us?.
NO! We keep the cartwheels turning.
NO! We keep the home fires burning.
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Red Crimea Dublin, Ireland
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