1. |
Potatoes
02:14
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What's that white light coming over the hill?
With blood a-dripping like the head of Pompey-o
A single red hand, rich from the kill
"I'll smite you down now, I'll blight your potatoes"
And all that you love, all that you love is gone
All that you love, all that you love
Gone like a footprint waiting on the shoreline
I'll sit and drink and drink and sit and drink again
You'll cock an eye and make a look like Trevelyan
Where be all women now, where be all men?
They're down in Dublin re-enacting rebellion
And all that you love, all that you love is gone
And all that you love, all that you love is gone, gone, gone, gone
Do you remember the lovers?
Do you remember the kiss in the rain?
And what were the words of your mother?
"The west will rise, it will rise again?"
I'd have written it down if I had found a pen
Do you remember the lovers?
Do you remember me standing in the rain?
And the long lost words of your mother
"The west will rise, it will rise again!"
Come over here and hold me now, tell me I'm your friend
So if there's still a pulse of blood left in me
I'll use it to survive this nuclear winter
The golden spectre on the hillside of trees
The frozen sun coming down in splinters
And all that you love, all that you love is gone
All that you love, all that you love is gone
All that you love, all that you love is gone
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2. |
Back on the Clock
03:05
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Another storm shutter day
With my packet soup and my true crime novel
I've become the man I want to be
A filthy little man in a filthy little hovel
The sea is so placid and white
And you might find me here on Friday night
When I'll be back on the clock
Back on the clock
Back on the clock and it's the wee-wee hours
There's a pasty piece of pizza in a pastel piss pot
I'd give you my address but you would not
Come and help me crank my karaoke machine
We could tickle our trout and maybe talk in between
"I can't live without you" by Mariah
You could be my wet biscuit, I could be your pariah
Now I'm back on the clock
Back on the clock
Back on the clock and it's the wee-wee hours
Back on the clock
Back on the clock
Back on the clock and it's the wee-wee hours
Chain, chain, chain, it's a chain of tools
'Round these sins of the flesh and I've chinned on a multitude
I know you didn't read my play
But some day in argyle I might get my way
And take the back road to the end of town
Where I'll smoke mint fags and sit on the ground
And I'll be back on the clock
Back on the clock
Back on the clock and it's the wee-wee hours
Back on the clock
Back on the clock
Back on the clock and it's the wee-wee hours
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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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