1. |
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I'm digging a hole dirt in my shoes
In a world of shadows I've ran out of booze
I'm digging a hole digging a grave
Scratching out the soil with the crap they never gave
And the world will never see me ever again
Unless my bones are dug up in a thousand years
All the antiquarians will kneel and pray
As my skull grins back from ear to ear
Dead dead dead still digging
What are you doing my pretty one
Can you fill the hole when the digging's done?
Can't blame her running I understand
No one digs digging with a dying man
Nobody will remember my epitaph
Unless my bones are dug up in another age
All the antiquarians will kneel and laugh
As my skull grins back in a silly way
Dead dead dead still digging
I've relinquished my dreams I've laid them aside
The glamour and the horror the wind and the strife
Are you better off in Yemen with a will to survive
Or living at The Dorchester desperate to die?
Dead dead dead still digging
credits
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2. |
Pissing Superfluous
03:38
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You're just another easy-going phoney
Projecting your dreams onto mine
That Library of Babel Facebook shit
Contains every truth every lie
Cruelty is the law pervading all nature and society
It doesn't help you yuppies teaching your kids that
Happiness is money and greed
You're pissing superfluous
As more plastic's chucked in the sea
Plastic people mince by
Romantically fucked beneath the Eiffel Tower
On a Tuesday night
The silence of infinite spaces
So dark so soft so odd
The streets are strewn with body parts
For some cunt of a God
He's pissing superfluous
Eking a living of loneliness
Puzzled by the cold inside
I'm dying my death in the darkness here - my suicide
Scraping the ground where the barrel was
Laughing where dogs go mad
Oblivion claims even stones and names
It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad
I'm pissing superfluous
Necking moonshine made with the yeast from an old pair of underpants
Snorting lines of powdered Lemsip
A member of the public grovelling publicly to Meghan Markle
I sold my shadow to a man in grey
He was the patron saint of all atheists
Who are the newsagents always on the phone to anyway
They're pissing superfluous
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3. |
Punctual Punk
01:47
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Assignation - we say we'll meet up
I've a methodical grasp of my clock
But exceptions can occasionally be made
I thought I felt a frisson of surprise
You weren't supposed to be on time
I couldn't comprehend what I saw
I'd just assumed your timekeeping was poor
I will never underestimate Billy Idol again
I thought I felt a frisson of surprise
You weren't supposed to be on time
The lesson we've learnt is entirely absurd
Hypothetical truth of the mocking word
I thought I felt a frisson of surprise
You weren't supposed to be on time
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4. |
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I'm on an art trip I'm on a guilt trip I'm despised
515 beards coming at me through the skies
They have to kill to prove themselves
I have the will to do it myself
Spite's the only thing keeping me alive
Disgusted I'm crushed in I'm on my knees
If the boredom doesn't kill me it'll be the corporate greed
Priests pervert all the good we have
Marketing executives are just as bad
Scorn it all for the library
The endless shouting tomorrows
Baby talk social laws sensationalist lives
Wherever there's a glimmer of hope we'll soon see idiot eyes
Phoniness I can't deal with it
Give me a drink so I can face this shit
The endless shouting tomorrows
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5. |
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6. |
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7. |
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8. |
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I see stupidity everywhere I look I'm drowning in it
Berated by vulgar minds, hated on sight
ARE YOU A BOY OR A GIRL? - Here's my TWO FINGER SALUTE
I don't make mistakes but when I do I make them count
Mock on, mock on, just remember this
Mock on mock on, a cut is a kiss
You laugh because I'm different but that's ok
I'm laughing at you cos you're all the same
It's a bummer you got older, your priorities seemed to change
From drink and drugs to consumption of a very different kind
Liberal ideals wither to personal gain
At 17 is this how you imagined it would end?
Here's my TWO FINGER SALUTE
Mock on, mock on, just remember this
Mock on mock on, a cut is a kiss
You laugh because I'm different but that's my way
I'm laughing at you cos you're all the same
They shout STICK LEGS! at me
A legless tramp laughed at my trousers
Coming at me like an excommunicated priest
Can't you handle my flowery blouses?
Dear lady from another irritated soul
I've seen our future in the toilet bowl
Dear Lord I'm bored of the life I've been lent
For me contempt is heaven sent
Mock on, mock on, remember this
Mock on, from you a cut is a kiss
You snigger and yack yeah it's kind of cute
It means I'm on the right track TWO FINGER SALUTE
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Furrowed Brow Manchester, UK
There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn
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