Well here we are. Chris has insisted that I post lyrics for some tunes, and so in response heres some out of context snippets of the vox – maybe sequential, but maybe not.

I was working my way cross town, head full of mush, when the cop pulls up, give the sirens a push. Mimics the sound, tongues and his lips. (I said) Fuck me! Its the polices greatest hits. Mumbles the bassline, hands in cuffs *turn it up *turn it up. Somehow comforted, I climb into my throne. Avant Garda Siochana dont leave you on yer own when youre WIIIRRRREEED! Take me HIIIGHER......Its the Celtic kama sutra, its your past and its your future. Ribbed for your displeasure. See you at the gates if I you ever get there. But i dont think I will, Dont think I will, dont think I will – Might have committed a few sins. Dont think youll be there either, coz they wont let you (in). So Im working on a future, fuck your celtic kama sutra, go fuck yourself, shove it up your deity. Enough of your papal bull, when creedy bastards rule the world, theres no hesitation, to condemn for masturbaturbation, s'not okay (is that ok?)..... Immaculate contraception, as design for overpopulation. Poverty as gods will? (yet) in gods name they kill. From the pulpit the morally corrupt, Preach and they tell us not to fuck. But say youll be set free, if you die from a very curable disease.......Lying through teeth, spitting smiles - Im hyperactive and Im in denial. Set fire to my soul – its just all a game. Kill! Kill! Kill! But fuck me after, my gratification turns to disaster. I exist, just fuck away my pain. Cant tame it, Ive lost control this time. Cant tame it. Dont wanna get up, get out, get on....... We're on the sick, may as well be a deathbed, we cant afford the cure, take the disease instead. Factory smoke, aspirations obscured. Opiates? Why not crack for the poor? A meritocracy? Clearly out of order. Scores unkept by the masses unkempt. Fake nudes, inches from our eyes – serve to distract and pacify. (theres) No Rising, No Riots, No Violence – the new age of a system. Dont Plan it, Try it, Fight it – Dont act like its your problem now.............
Noice: (a somewhat pleasant wee jazzy skiffle occurs)
Im so Class: (ask the other guy)... something about “dont even need to take a shit, much too clean for that – thats right, I know how to fight” (and maybe something to do with taking multiple holidays a year and having alloys???
....Dont touch me, Im a trash man, draggin my bits thru the slime again. The grease hangs low from my chin and my hands. Semen and pizza down the front of my pants. Stains down my suit, its no use, reprimanding me when theres dogshit on my boots. Im just a condom that just didnt flush. dont shake hands with me, dont choke on the must...... So dont touch me, Im a trash man – but I just wanna hold your hand. An I just wanna know what love is, but Im high and Im drunk and I smell like piss.... *awkward Daniel Beddingfield reference.
Dicks: Fuck. I wish Id written this tune. Listen to the fuckin Dicks!
.....Failed suicide attempts, My god, the fuckin boredom. Minimum wage existence inevitable equating to future heartbreaks. Well hows your credit rating?! Holy shit! Am I retarded? Have you just been too polite to tell me this whole time? I guess Ill never learn eh? Perpetually insignificant, til the break of dawn. Perpetually insignificant... til the break.. of dawn....
When we awoke. Id seven holes in my head. When we awoke. 7 fuckin holes. In my head...... Bright light city left far behind... And now we dig for apples. Just to see whats left.
Stand Clear, Luggage Doors operate... x? Dont talk to strangers, dont masturbate.... Burstin for a piss, sure Im on the lush. Pissed in a bottle so whats all the fuss. Dont wanna stay on, gotta get off, but this aint my hometown, this aint my hometown. This aint my hometown, luggage doors operating, this aint my hometown, where words have no meaning. Words have no meaning

the words, have no meaning.

This was fun.
Cheers