1. |
||||
Cretinous demagogues, go away!
Cretinous demagogues, go away!
Cretinous demagogues, go away!
I want to put you back into a dystopian novel and
There you can stay
Ridiculous demigods, go away!
Ridiculous demigods, go away!
Ridiculous demigods, go away!
Even Zeus got fat on soup and wine and faded away
Forest-burning bible-bashers, go away!
Forest-burning bible-bashers, go away!
Bashers and burners, go away!
Nobody has anything to gain if you stay
I prefer green trees
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I prefer golden sun
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I prefer blackbirds
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I prefer turquoise seas
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I prefer amber leaves
TO WHITE LIGHT!
British Racing Green
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I prefer yellow flowers
TO WHITE LIGHT!
I’d sooner have silver showers
THAN WHITE LIGHT!
Cretinous demagogues, go away!
|
||||
2. |
Vesna Vulović
02:44
|
|||
She fell thirty thousand feet from a plane
All the doctors told her she’d never walk again
With a fractured skull and broken ribs and three smashed vertebrae
A miracle occurred and she limped back to JAT airways
The astonishing tale of Vesna, how did she cheat the grave?
A diet of spinach and chocolate was the answer she gave
Low blood pressure stopped her heart from bursting on impact
A bomb ripped the plane asunder, but the fuselage remained intact
Vesna fainted when she read the newspaper headline
She’d remembered nothing of the flight on the DC9
Decorated by Tito, smeared by Milosevic
He lied about the plane and he lied about Vulovic
Now, she met Paul McCartney at a Guinness Book of Records bash
She got sick of interviews just talking about the crash
Survivor guilt had wracked her and she came to a sticky end
She died poor and she died alone with no family and no friends
|
||||
3. |
The Flies
04:00
|
|||
They left me to the flies
Let the gnats eat my eyes
Cos’ I am dead
And I don’t care
Let the maggots gnaw my brain
Let my kidneys be a train
For every passing worm
In fatty fluids squirm
Let my juices feed the ground
And start another round
Of shoots and roots and flowers
I’ll furnish termite towers
Let the minerals in my skin
Feed the land I’m in
To me it is no bother
Around it insects hover
They left me to the flies
That’s okay, we all die
They left me to the flies
That’s okay, we’ve all got to go
Now, do not burn my heart
I want to play my part
In the history of the planet
Don’t bury me in granite
Use a degradable wood
Unless I had the plague
Then a bonfire you must make
I don’t suppose it matters
If my atoms are in tatters
My former putrefaction
Will set the world in action
A nourishing mush
Like the mulch of autumn leaves
And if there is a spirit
I’m not that much into it
I prefer the Earth
I’ll take another birth
Or perhaps another planet
They left me to the flies
That’s okay, we all die
They left me to the flies
That’s okay, we’ve all got to go
|
||||
4. |
Corona Moaner
03:32
|
|||
I do not wish to die alone
I do not wish to die alone
We’ve all got to die in the end
But I’d rather be with a friend
Than to die alone on my own
I wonder if I will die alone
Saying goodbye on my telephone
I’ve had a good life, I can’t complain
I didn’t lose a leg or go insane
But to die alone on my own
And yet for me, me personally
Things are okay under the sword of Damocles
I’ve got birds and my best friend
Some are stuck in with a bell end
I know we all die alone in the end
But two hours before you could be holding a hand
We all die alone in the end
But two hours before you could be holding a hand
Die alone ... on my own ...
Duncan-Smith thinks we’re corona moaners
Bugger off, bugger off!
|
||||
5. |
Brownbow in Limbo
05:37
|
|||
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
‘Do you have any regrets, my friend?’
No, not really, just a few
‘Reveal to us your regrets, my friend’
I’m not telling you, it’s nothing to do with you
‘Don’t you regret your failed career?’
Not a jot
‘You could have been a star, you were so near’
I don’t care, I can’t imagine anything worse
‘But you wouldn’t have had to go to work’
Yeah, but what would I have written about?
‘All the shitty jobs you so reviled’
A spoiled pop star has nothing to say after a while
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
I’m talking to you from Limbo Land
‘He’s a ghost’
Yes, I am in purgatory
'That cannot be fun'
I wonder if I’m here for my regrets
'I don’t know, I’m sorry I can’t help you there'
'Tell us about your regrets, my friend'
Ask Betjeman
'Reveal to us your regrets, my friend'
Just ask Betjeman, Betjeman, Betjeman
Just ask Betjeman, Betjeman, Betjeman
|
Richard Batchelor Chartres, France
I am the singer in the cult Liverpool indie punk band Ricky Spontane.
Streaming and Download help
If you like Birds & Death, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp