1. |
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A good year for the spiders
It’s been a good year for the spiders
It’s been a good year for the seagulls and the rats
It’s been a good year for the grass
That has grown so very long
It’s been a good year for the flat worms and the snails
It’s been a good year for TB and the MRSI bacteria
That currently adapts and shapes itself
But it’s been a bad year for the wheat
and the crops that now lie rotting
In fields that would never see a harvest
It’s been a bad year for the people
made homeless by the floods
That ripped apart a land the size of England, and Wales
It’s been a bad year for the molluscs
that were swept aside by change
It’s been a bad year for the song birds and the moles
It’s been a bad year for the plants
that were devoured by the snails
That are currently experiencing good times
It’s been a good year, and a bad year
for so many varied things
That are all part of life’s rich tapestry.
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2. |
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Holding ourselves from the edge of the headland
There’s a line in the sand
Where the fallen ones have gone
And without a reason why
We were left holding ourselves
We were holding ourselves from the edge of the headland
There were stones raining down on us like lumps of lead from the sky
As we clambered down the embankment to the other side
And you shouted something to me through the storm
About a previous journey when we’d tasted many different drugs
There was something up on the headland as we looked towards the sea
And it spoke to me of times when we was young
But the worst thing was with every step the beating of the waves
Knocked back this old rust bucket to the shore
We were holding ourselves from the edge of the headland
In a way a single kiss can drop away a message that is steeped in a history of love
So believe that all of us will now be willing contemplate a memory we have of times when things was ‘cool’
Chances are you never even saw them there to try to understand is only futile to us now that this past
Make another promise to them all this time has gone and you believe you will be there until the end of all this mess
We were holding ourselves from the edge of the headland
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3. |
KRA$H!
02:10
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KRA$H!
The markets they must crash again
The dollar it must fail the yen
As the markets crash again
The people, the people, the people
The people they must always pay
We pay and pay and pay
Until our dying day
I see the markets must crash again
As the papers are telling their tales
Its possibly the end of the line
For the dominant nations now
I see the dollar has gone through the floor
And Europe is bracing itself
Its possible we must live on less
Perhaps as a Nation we can
The city is not far from here
And it will have to crash again
Coz nothing ever change
So drink a drink a drink
Drink another drink my friend
The years they go rolling by
In the twinkling of an eye
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4. |
Disappeared Friend
04:28
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Disappeared Friend
My friend with his lived in face
Disappeared without a trace
Took up with an ideology
Descended in its philosophy
Used to fold his arms and stamp his foot
Used to answer back and disagree
Used to make good friends of enemies
Used to look so good for one so old
Used to say his prayers until he stopped
Used to laugh out loud until he dropped
Used to stuff his face with chocolate
Used to go all hyper until he dropped
Used to cut himself, he used to cut himself
You’ve changed man
you’ve changed
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5. |
The Smells of London
03:40
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The Smells of London
I keep hearing all those voices
as they speak in many tongues
The sounds of a city turning round
I try to find the voice that will speak those words again
See if they will come, come what may
The smell of poverty and greed
The smell of alcohol and need
The smell of happiness and joy
The smell of what will be destroyed
The smell of smoke from a gun
The smell of people on the run
The smell of fumes from a bus
The smell of them, the smell of us
The smell of love, the smell of fear
The smell of one more lonely year
The smell of cooking and of trains
The smell of gas from the drains
The smell of milk that’s been spilt
The smell of last night’s sick
The smell of workers - fear the worst
Has the bubble finally burst?
The smell of anger and of hate
The smell of an important date
The smell of people and of birds
The smell of smell of raining cats and dogs
The smell of food and of soap
From all around the world
These are the smells of London
London after the rain
A further tightening of the belt
A further tying of the laces
And pulling up of socks
These things have come to test us
A swallowing of pride
A further buttoning of the shirt
Don’t loosen up that tie yet
These things have come to test us
These are the smells of London
London after the rain
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6. |
King Slug
03:55
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King Slug
There’s a slug in this room and I can’t track it down
though I follow its greasy trail
There’s a slug in here and while I’m sleeping at night
it will make its way up my nose.
And crawl inside my skull, to devour what brain remains
After years and years of mental decline
it will devour what little I’ve left.
The silent killer is a brainless thriller that slowly strangulates
When least you expect its deathly grip it finally coagulates
Why am I genetically inferior to me genetic superior?
Follow my family history, but can’t quite track it down.
King slug, he’s in here! King slug, he’s in here!
I’ll be dreaming a dream a most glorious dream
of wonderful things to behold
Whilst king slug he is oozing schmoozing
my dream it will unfold.
I’ll wake with a scream from my glorious dream
and my wife says calm down dear
And I look at her and say I can’t calm down
because King Slug he’s in here.
King slug, he’s in here! King slug, he’s in here!
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Martin Christie England, UK
Martin Christie is a song writer and writer based in Yorkshire (UK). He wrote Open Mic Travels & Electronic Music Travels. Formerly performing as Poet & the Loops, and singer/composer with Old Man Pie.
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