1. |
All The Eights
03:06
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Head’s gotta win, tails lose
Invest in hope, rewrite the news
All the eights, All the eights
Logic's random, pattern fails
This gravy train's gone off the rails
All the eights, All the eights
"I got the silver bullet", said the fake tan in white shoes
"So ante up and panties down, now what you got to lose?"
‘Cept all the eights, All the eights
Rabbit's foot, gold number-plate, the ultimate blind date
with all the eights, All the eights
You can call it joss and burn some sticks
Or be the shill in a three shell trick
All the eights, All the eights
You can put a hex on a hexagram
Or swing along with the Hanging Man
All the eights, All the eights
"I got the knife to cut this deal", said the smile behind the spin
"So pony up in phony town, the water's fine, jump in"
With all the eights, All the eights
Wishbone crack and scarab black, you'll never catch a taste of
All the eights… etc.
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2. |
Needle At 149
02:35
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Bundle of rags at the side of the road
And the B-doubles rollin’ by
He’s got a load of crap to deliver by four
To a loot-snoutin’ corporate whore
So he puts his boot to the floor
And the needle hits 149, needle’s at 149, needle’s at 149, let’s roll...
Bundle of rags at the side of the road
Walked a tightrope shadow life
Just the men who hit and the women who scored
The dead-eyed clerk who slammed the door
A pimp who always wanted more
Bought her needles at 149, needles at 149, needles at 149
We unwanted misbegotten
Roll for the kids who are forgotten
Let’s roll motherfuckers, let’s roll…
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3. |
Two Dollar Dream
05:12
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Woke up in a town called Jellyroll
‘Bout sixty miles north of Wheredafugg
Euphemisms perched on the ‘phone wires
Innuendo owned the alleys
The General Store sold lemon-squeezers
I asked them for a melon-twister
That got me my first warnin’
‘We don’t hold with no sugar-pourin’ ’
But all I really wanted was a two dollar dream
Two-dollar dream, I want a two-dollar dream…
So I crossed the street to the Jellyroll Tavern
Where the jukebox ain’t got but thirty songs
They got ‘House Of The Rising Free Bird’, ‘Bad Mustang Sally On The Rise’
All the hits a normal feller might wanna hear
That didn’t pull my dime… I waited for the band to start
The band set up and played every song on the jukebox in alphy-betical order
So I took out my custom-made vintage kazoo and asked to sit in
That got me my second warnin’
They said “this here’s our fingers and our pie, boy, go find your own”
Well, god bless the child, god bless the motherfucking child that’s got his own!
Two-dollar dream, I want a two-dollar dream…
Then I sat me down by the riverside
Where an original swam by, wearin’ nothin’ but gooseflesh and a smile
A school of clichés dragged it under, stripped it clean in seconds
Its bones were just an ivory puzzle, twisting in the riverweed
And that was my third warnin’
So now I’m travellin’ on down to Mediocreville
See if there’s a dream down there I can afford
Two-dollar dream, I want a two-dollar dream…
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4. |
Collateral
04:09
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Your sky fairy ain’t as tough as mine
Your flag’s a rag compared to mine
I burn your books, you burn mine
We ain’t come far since monkey-time
Ain’t come far since monkey-time
Species peak, species crawl
Wake me up when your messiah calls
Child’s melted face turned to the wall
That’s your sky fairy’s collateral
Collateral – change the channel – just collateral
Your rendition is a kidnap hit
Your border camp is a gulag pit
You twist your language, I’ll twist mine
We ain’t come far since monkey-time
We ain’t come far since monkey-time
Shake your cross, I’ll point my bone
As above, so below
Run from your fear, I’ll run from mine
We ain’t come far since monkey-time
Ain’t come far since monkey-time
Species peak, species crawl
Wake me up when your messiah calls
Child’s melted face turned to the wall
That’s your sky fairy’s collateral
Change the channel – just collateral
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5. |
A Minor Detour
01:19
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6. |
Cable Street
04:46
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They’re coming for the artists
‘Cos art leads to thought
Coming for the teachers
Resistance can be taught
Pumping up the bigots
Shrieking ‘stop the boats’
We got a fascist epidemic
Evil is as stupid votes
Here we stand – no pasaran
Here we stand – no pasaran
My old man held Cable Street and I will hold this ground
They’re coming for the Muslims
Coming for the Jews
Coming for the blacks and gays
Which side you gonna choose?
Europe stood and watched
As they loaded up the trains
Dachau, Auschwitz, Sobibor
Here it comes again
Here we stand – no pasaran
Here we stand – no pasaran
My old man held Cable Street and I will hold this ground
La Pasionaria sleeps
Phil Piratin sleeps
Morris Beckman sleeps
The 43 Group sleeps
But some of us are not asleep
And we will hold this ground…
Here we stand – no pasaran
Here we stand – no pasaran
My old man held Cable Street and I will hold this fucking ground
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7. |
Sleeper Cell
04:22
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The long game, we play the long game…
Wage slaves, sex slaves
Contract flesh: inform, resist; inform, resist
Lesions upon lesions
Tumours upon growths
Bio-hosts: Delete your code, delete your code
Robber barons swinging in the clean light of day
They all got brand new neckties from Colombi-ay, from Colombi-ay
The long game, we play the long game…
Enforcers, informers
Gun-lovers: Rewrite your scripts, rewrite your scripts
Lies upon confusion
Fake upon mirage
Uniforms: Reverse your norms, reverse your norms
Puppets are helpless when the handlers are gone
What new hell we gonna build in this smouldering dawn?
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8. |
Grout
01:10
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9. |
Mill Street Junction
04:01
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10. |
Kerouac Code
03:23
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When we gotta duck n dive we talk oblique
Twist the pragmatics n jam the frequencies
Thieves’ cant rebooted for the 21 C
Squirrels runnin’ ADHD thru my PTSD
From Romany root to the beat speak age
It’s a literati party to keep us out the cage
We mix it up good, every week a new barker
From Tony Burgess to Amiri Baraka
Hit the road Jack, Kerouac code
Fibre sings to the underground node
Hit the road Jack, word spaghetti
Surveillance don’t know a yentl from a yeti
Hit the road…
Schlep to the sports, boost a Micky Mantle
Nazis can’t walk if they got no ankles
We’re our own triple zero, cops is chocolate teapots
See the toffee word assortment bouncin’ off the woodentops
Hit the road Jack, Kerouac code
Fibre sings to the underground node
Hit the road Jack, word spaghetti
Surveillance don’t know a yentl from a yeti
Hit the road…
Satori ain’t no meat-stick, meet ya where the stars leave holes
What’s that even mean? The Shadow knows
Poetic preservation, lingua franca, shifting code
A dancing tongue’ll keep ya off the ropes and on the road
Hit the road Jack, Kerouac code
Fibre sings to the underground node
Hit the road Jack, word spaghetti
Surveillance don’t know a yentl from a yeti
Hit the road…
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11. |
Uncle's Advice
03:16
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Never bend to tie your bootlace in a car park late at night
Never toss a poisoned apple to a child
Never paint the sky quite blue, don’t pretend the clouds are white
Don’t forget where all the secrets are filed
Pour another shot boy, fill it to the brim
Your uncle will dispense a little more advice
Never read a lover’s diary if you got no taste for bile
Never look a hurt hyena in the eye
Never take the kind of job where you always got to smile
Don’t let the petty bastards see you cry
Now switch off your phone boy, kick it to the curb
Your uncle will dispense a little more advice
Life spins how you shape it out of pocket-lint and smoke
Mornings are a raffle, mostly evenings are a joke
Keep your lucky numbers hidden for a rainy afternoon
Learn to love the lonely twilight in a filthy motel room
Never snap your hat brim, ‘less you’re thoroughly perturbed
Wear rubber soles - it’s a slippery kind of life
Always face the traffic when you’re walking on the curb
Never pay a shaky hand to twist the knife
Clip another Cuban boy, pass it over here
Your uncle will dispense a little more advice
Life spins how you shape it out of pocket-lint and smoke
Mornings are a raffle, mostly evenings are a joke
Keep your lucky numbers hidden for a rainy afternoon
Learn to love the lonely twilight in a filthy motel room
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12. |
Rat On A Roll
03:34
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Now the mad and the bad got their fingers on the buttons
When they push them suckers there won’t be nothin’
Outside the bunker but roaches and rats
But it’s all good, I’ve planned for that
I’ll drag my hairy ass down a cosy hole
I’m gonna be a rat on a roll
Rat, rat, rat on a roll uh huh huh…
Well I ain’t no lemming and I ain’t no vole
I’m just a rat on a roll
We got this whole mall to ourselves
‘Cept for a crispy Santa and some deep-fried elves
The Half-life Deli’s open 24/7
It’s a looters’ paradise, rodent heaven
Well praise de lawdy for abundant cheeses
Let’s shake some rat ass for the baby jeezus
Rat, rat, rat on a roll uh huh huh…
I ain’t no badger and I ain’t no mole
I’m just a rat on a roll
Just one Trumpocalyptic thing I’m missin’
Got no rat lurve, no whisker-kissin’
Tried to put my armagged-on a slinky rat
But she weren’t havin’ none of that
Told me to take a post-nuclear stroll
And stick my head up my own mousehole, but…
I just wanna Rat n Roll all nite n mutate every day…
Rat, rat, rat on a roll uh huh huh…
Well I ain’t no lemming and I ain’t no vole
I’m just a rat on a roll
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13. |
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Played a thousand karzis on a continent or two
Been ripped off, stitched up, fucked around by harder twats than you
Seen all the fiddles and shifties, scams and sleights of hand
It ain’t no kiddies’ picnic playin’ in a small-time band
But here we are at the studio door to do it all again
This full mental racket might just dull the pain cos it’s…
Not as bad as it could’ve been, sucked less than we thought
We might be in the gutter but at least we ain’t been bought
Not as bad as it could’ve been, it don’t completely bite
Arseclowns got us on the ropes but we’re gonna win this fight
Not half bad…
Not half bad…
Boiling strings, eating skip surprise, things is lookin' bleak
Turn those krusties inside out, they’ll last another week
The door take done been taken, by the doorman – thievin’ scroat
The last good mic’s gone walkies down the mixer’s coat
But here we are in the bastard van to do it all again
This full mental racket might just dull the pain 'cos it’s…
Not as bad as it could’ve been, sucked less than we thought
We might be in the gutter but at least we ain’t been bought
Not as bad as it could’ve been, it don’t completely bite
Arseclowns got us on the ropes but we’re gonna win this fight
Not half bad…
Not half bad…
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Scarth Hog Canberra, Australia
Scarth Hog: stirs the swamp of rawk, blues, jazz, metal and punk loosely known as noise rock. Canberra,
Australia.
Bill Bostle (King Snake Roost, Half, The Skronks, Born Again Pagans, Car Hank Died In): bass, vocals
Phil Gemmell (Corpse, Demise, Deadlights, Prosthetic Heads, The Laureates): guitars
Mark Woods (Hell Yes, Il Bruto): drums, more cowbell
www.facebook.com/ScarthHog/
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