1. |
Cold Comfort
02:25
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Well you and I been killing each other
Each day the storm before the storm
Love I’m sure we could do better
Than rub two pennies together
To try and make the house get warm
Our girls will feel the brunt of indifference
Why should we sit here being so tame?
It's more than just a trifle
I want to get a rifle
And go root out the ones to blame
When some mealy-mouthed teacher from Limerick
Says we’re getting through it by degrees
Well that feels like distraction to me
Cold comfort!
Make no mistake about it
You’re a slave and you’ve been consigned
And with no recourse for aggression
We’re just teaching them a lesson
You can fool all the people all the time
When some mealy-mouthed teacher from Mayo
Says we’re better off down on our knees
Well that feels like a cop-out to me
Cold comfort!
Don’t tell us, all you greasy fumblers, we gotta scrimp and save
I won’t be happy till you’re with O’Leary in the grave
Insist that we’re all in this together
Declare that you don’t despise us
But this pain is gonna linger
You’ll have blood on your fingers
Before you even realise this
When some plane-plugging prick in the papers
Says “You don’t like it? you can always leave!”
Well that feels like gunpoint to me
Cold comfort!
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2. |
Vegetarian Girls
02:50
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Damien Wall it's not your fault
That you have a head like a loaf of bread
Or that we were nestled in the corner
When you came in and found me on her
And when you hit me with the tennis racquet - the bouncy part, it flipped back
And it hit you in
Your shin
Not sure when, but that's when I ran
Well don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
Frankie Thornton you got no warning
Lost your head, got a haystack instead
Here we are at 18, things seem pretty normal
Here we are at 19 - where's your marbles?
At 24 you talked to the door
At 32 they're talking back to you
What to do?
What to do?
Find some poor woman and drive her mental too?
Well don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
I'll be a whirl in another world
Eating out with vegetarian girls
Those sincere smiles and those tied-back curls
I'll think often of you
Damien Wall it's not your fault
That your head's an oversized, empty vault
I heard you run a mini empire
So really, who's the winner here?
Well I heard she's to die for, she's a keeper, a lifer
A little bird told me too that you want to knife her
Makes me wonder what you'd need a wife for
but you married young so what the hell
Well don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
Don't worry, don't worry, don't worry, don't worry
You'll marry young and you'll marry well
I'll be a whirl in another world
Eating out with vegetarian girls
Those freckled faces and those tied-back curls
I'll think often of you
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3. |
||||
We were born into corduroy
Like you were born into money
We were the fools reading J.K. Toole
And not knowing why it was funny
Was it our fault we drank liver salts
Instead of pop when our grandma forgot 'em?
And while the bottom fell out of your world
The world fell out of our bottoms
I met you in the old Crane bar
Flirting on some old man's knee
I was disarmed by your busty charm;
You liked the mouthy side of me
We drank beer for what seemed like two New Years'
And you pulled on my cracker
And left me there with my tea-towel hair
Getting boxed and returned by two knackers
I wouldn't be seen in those pre-faded jeans
You acted like someone had hit you
But that's as it should be: you're damaged goods
And I'm not the tool to fix you
The sun shone in the airport hall
As you put a planet between us
And Dad said "Mike, I think you'll be all right"
As I stood there holding my weakness
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4. |
The Low Men
03:02
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We’re the low men
Waiting down in the trenches
We’re only waiting for the end
Or waiting to get really really really really…
We’re the low men
Spend the summer doing nothing
Eating beans out of tins
We’re just waiting to get really really really really
We won’t put you in the bad books
If you feed us your free lunch
We’ll be your low men
Your tie-wearing foot men
And you can be our Mongolian generals
We’re the low men
Ludwig van’s in the Iveagh Gardens
But you don’t need to listen when the big clock’s ticking
And you’re waiting to get really really really really
We’re the low men
Pissing in the alleys on the weekend
Waving jacks in masses as old Lizzie passes
And we’re hoping she’ll see us, see us, see us
And give us her respect!
So we can one day rise again
We’ll be your low men
Our heads down until then
If you’ll be our Mongolian generals
We’re the low men
Down where ideas go to die
But till then, entertain us
Where's my thumb? Up my anus
'Cause we’re waiting to get really really really really
Drunk
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5. |
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I hide my love in evening time
When lasers shoot from her green eyes
I glance at her oblique profile
And take a walk out in the evening light
I met her when my heart was sore
And her voice was a soft chainsaw
The thickest thorns around me grew
They cut her skin, they cut me too
And then once more at some stiff black-tie occasion
Which I assumed was on for mental outpatients
Some dead-eyed doctor and his pasty spouse
We zipped their lips and slipped off to her house
And then a third time at a president's lunch
Things were now getting to the crunch
A gentle voice among the cacophony
A gentle voice that said "You'd best to phone me"
I hide my love like I just said
Among old artifacts and human heads
I glance at her oblique profile
The TV flickers and the world rolls by
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6. |
Universal Truth
02:05
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Well I’ve read Descartes and the Bertrand Russell
One lacked heart and the other, muscle
I’ve read Sam Beckett and Jimmy Joyce
(‘though I must admit that I had no choice)
With all these Irish solutions to Irish problems
It makes me feel like I haven’t got one
So much for sneering at wasted youth
And the search for universal truth
Universal truth!
I’ve performed the rites and the old ablutions
I’ve fished with prayers and I’ve caught confusion
I’ve felt the fervour of my fellow man
It made me want to annex the Sudetenland
And find universal truth!
There is no truth for you, working man
You shut your mouth and take your medicine
How’s that now? Have you had enough?
Well here’s one in the teeth and one in the guts
You bent my will and you forced compliance
Will you steal our cadavers for modern science?
Hey, buy me a drink, maybe get to know me
Before you explore my an-a-to-my
For universal truth!
Get thee behind me thoughts of sin
I need to take my medicine
Life’s hard, it can get kind of rough
When you take one in the teeth and one in the guts
Bring me your old and your decomposing
They’re sure to have stories so true and moving
And - fine with home-truths or truth that’s personal -
I only want stuff that’s universal
Universal truth!
Come out now, come from your doors
I need to hear your engines roar
Unload your mind, unlock your tongue
Or is it too late, and have I been here too long?
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7. |
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I really feel the feelings I feel
They come from somewhere in the depths of me
As tangible as tangible could be
I'm not speaking metaphorically
So hold onto me like a silver locket
I just want you to love me like a box of chocolates
You're gonna love me like a box of chocolates
You really feel the feelings you feel
Of course you do; you're no different than me
They're right there in your chest, physically
Don't let the world tell you differently
So believe me that you make me shake and shudder
I just want you to love me like a baby brother
You're gonna love me like a baby brother
doo doo doo
We really feel the feelings we feel
They shine out from us incandescently
Don't let them tell you it's invalid or cheap
Don't let the world tell you differently
So be Slim Pickens and I'll be your rocket
I just want you to love me like a box of chocolates
You're gonna love me like a box of chocolates
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8. |
Thank You Letters
03:03
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I walked back to the classroom where I found
A thousand thank you letters on the ground
And I could nearly hear the laughter and the football sounds
And the thank you letters strewn across the ground
“Thank you for the Soundings
For the rope that you allowed me
For your heart of lego pieces
For the dropping to your kneeses
For the drool and knuckle-dragging
For the lolling and the gagging
For the promise you’d be my friend
We all had a good laugh at that back then”
Oh but Margaret
Margaret watching handball
Leaning forward on her knees
I remember every little nuance
Margaret, we could be friends so nice
I could give you such good advice
On those skinny little lads with the self-esteem problems
Now I walk back to the old pitch where I’ve found
A thousand thank you letters on the ground
And I can nearly hear the whispers where the crows peck dry ground
And the thank you letters strewn across the ground
“Thank you for your shoulders
We stood on them proudly
Until they sank so low
And then we stood on some others
Thank you for your hard work
Although we didn’t need it
It has made good landfill
So thank you, thank you, thank you, good man”
Oh but Margaret
Margaret watching football
Leaning forward on her knees
I remember every little nuance
Margaret, how come you never voiced it
I heard you got hoisted
By some skinny little fella with a self-esteem problem
Oh but Margaret
Margaret watching football
Leaning forward on her knees
I remember every little nuance
Oh well Margaret
How come I never voiced it
Back when you got hoisted
By some skinny little fella with a self-esteem problem
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9. |
Hand In Your Thumbs
01:45
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Hand in your thumbs, hand in your thumbs
I’m just your average sinner
I’m sitting in the corner here, chewing on crumbs
And pretending it’s a four-course dinner
I get good exercise, eat my greens
Make conversation in the work canteen
Then sit here farting beside this machine
And that’s my life, it’s obscene
Hand in your thumbs, hand in your thumbs
They won’t be required when Armageddon comes
I’m gonna drive like fire into oblivion
Like a living, breathing, thinking Homo sapien
I don’t wanna hear about the shows you missed
Or your stupid pain in your stupid wrist
Who d’you think you are, the Count of Monte Christo?
All you need’s a pay check and an ass to kiss, oh
All you need’s a pay check and an ass to kiss
All you need’s a pay check and an ass to kiss
“Oh no the low-fat milk’s all gone”
I hope you die with your underpants on
And me at number one in your schizo list
Me at number one in your schizo list
Hand in your thumbs, hand in your thumbs
They won’t be required when Armageddon comes
I’m gonna drive like fire into oblivion
Like a living, breathing, thinking Homo sapien
Like Lemurs we stare and like meer cats we stand
Craning and straining – some day we’ll be that man
With notches on his belt!
Hand in your thumbs, hand in your thumbs
I want the full sandwich, not your stinking crumbs
I’m gonna drive like fire into oblivion
Like a living, breathing, thinking Homo sapien
Homo sapien!
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10. |
Death To Lie Ins
02:14
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Your political views? They have no significance.
(C’mon out of bed! Get your feet out of bed!)
Your shame and your anger? It’s completely irrelevant.
(C’mon out of bed! Get your feet out of bed!)
The voice of the people? Cop on, there is no choice at all.
Death to Lie Ins!
You can raise yourself up in the hope they consider you
(We’re finished with the news, we’re finished with the TV!)
But don’t be surprised if they tar and they feather you
(Wake up! Wake up! Get your feet out of bed!)
And don’t you know that love will never ever leave you alone?
Death to lie-ins!
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11. |
County Mayo
04:12
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On the deck of Paddy Lynch’s boat I’m feeling only sorrow
Sighing through the dark night and weeping by the day-o
Since my mind has closed in and I’m far from all my loved ones
Oh my God, how I long for you, County Mayo
I met up with a sergeant in the day, he was in plain clothes
I thought it would be good for me, a young man going solo
Well he filled me up with whisky and he gave a gun to guard me
But I’d be better off back home in County Mayo
County Mayo, county Mayo
Only for my mother passed on, I’d have been okay-o
But with the law and all my drinking
My bones would soon be sinking
Here in Santa Cruz, not home in county Mayo
I am owed one thousand seven hundred fifty euro
I would go demanding it but into gaol I’d be thrown
They’d lock me up for debt
They’d put chains around my neck
And I’d never see again my county Mayo
County Mayo, county Mayo
I’d a bottle in each hand, I had a woman on each elbow
But with the law and all my drinking
My bones would soon be sinking
In some distant land, not home in county Mayo
Until the day Knockcroghery goes visit Abhainn Mor
Until the grass gets off its ass and herds the cattle home
Until Twelve Pins, they split in ten and out of them pour gold
I will see no more again my county Mayo
County Mayo, county Mayo
I’d a bottle in each hand, I had a woman on each elbow
But with the law and all my drinking
My bones would soon be sinking
In some distant land, not home in county Mayo
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Lie Ins Dublin, Ireland
Lie Ins are Mike, Ruan and Mark. We've had one album called Death to Lie Ins, which was amazing. We've released a bunch of singles, which are all even more amazing. Check them all out. If we continue on this trajectory, I dunno, beatification has to be on the cards. ... more
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