1. |
broke the weather
05:11
|
|||
well I'm glad to see you've woken up ok
in your sleeper pod from the sixties, like Woody Allen
you're gonna see some changes here and there
but nothing major
we still don't have our jetpacks...
the wedding bells are ringing
but we don't know who the bride is
you can bet your life on progress in the dark
stamp all you like on god
you know he'll just squeeze out like toothpaste
all the animals are searching for the ark
so we're standing at the altar with our
brand new ways of seeing
while the technobabble howls on every side
you'll always need an upgrade
but you won't know where to find it
and distraction is the safest place to hide
we've been to the moon
it's just a dusty rock
we tried to love love and peace
but now it seems
we only loved the drugs
we never began
to get our act together
is there anything else?
oh yeah
looks like we broke the weather
well I'm glad to see you're having second thoughts
when all our lives you know they just add up to so much landfill
at least we haven't blown ourselves to bits
though I can't help feeling
you must still be disappointed
the empty tills are ringing
and we just keep printing money
it doesn't count as flying if you fall
with nothing else to live for
we just keep on making babies
line em up
and keep their backs against the wall
we've been to the moon
but not for forty years
we tried to clean up our mess
but look at us
we only made it worse
we never began
to live those lives of leisure
is there anything else?
oh yeah
looks like we broke the weather
we've been to the moon
it's just a dusty rock
we tried to love love and peace
but now it seems
we only loved the drugs
we never began
to get our act together
is there anything else?
oh yeah
looks like we broke the weather
|
||||
2. |
waiting for the show
03:59
|
|||
while you're waiting
for the world to come undone
like a pinwheel in the sky
I hope you don't mind
if I leave you on your own
I'd love to help
but I'm not that guy
while you're waiting
for the supersonic winds
as the heavens go to church
I hope you don't mind
if I close the blinds
I'd love to help
but that isn't how this works
so you've come up to watch the show...
counting down to the end of days
the end of soup
the end of ways
your chocolate army melting in the sun
counting down to the end of time
the smudge below the bottom line
the more you knit
the more it
comes
undone
|
||||
3. |
start again
03:41
|
|||
woke up at four thirty with the sunlight streaming in
I guess I'm late for my own funeral again
stumbled to the kitchen where I let the bad air out
like you would let your conscience back in from the rain
and though I'm seasick from the motion of the floor
my clothes belong to someone else, my body's overdrawn
I can't remember what the hell these things are for
and furthermore
looks like I have to start again
Lucy came from Brighton where she worked the midnight shift
and she dealt a little coke to ease the pain
never found a way to reach the other side of town
so she'd turn a trick to ride that midnight train
and when her creditors came knocking at the door
her few connections couldn't help her any more
Lucy didn't care, she left her blanket on the floor
walked out the door
lit out of town to start again
the last time I saw Lucy she was walking up the road
like the road itself was getting in her way
seven months of nothing should have taught me how to lie
but I never found a way to make her stay
and though the parking lot is filled with our regrets
the empty cans of Stella and the half-smoked cigarettes
there must be better ways to part, and yet
at least we're out of debt
just let me out to start again
|
||||
4. |
||||
your eschatological clock is ticking
the hanging fruit of Babylon is ripe for the picking
the hand that rocks the cradle in the mind of a chicken
is clutching at the falling fruit but nothing is sticking
|
||||
5. |
dreams of noah
04:06
|
|||
it's a day past full and the moon is casting
its mad eye over the broken land
out in the east, God's getting restless
and he's coughing into his hand
just off the map he tries to get his head down
in his copy of the Racing Post
inside or out, it's always raining
in the soul of the holy ghost
and the clouds keep on rolling in
to drive those blues away
and the air tastes of Adam before the fall
and the ground keeps on gaping wide
to suck up all that rain
this wasn't what I meant at all
now that we're clean does that mean you get a rewrite
how'd we let you get away with that?
weighed in at York, somewhere the hare is running
somewhere the fizzy wine is going flat
all your connections have they left you empty-handed
when there's little in the woods except the trees
stone-fisted architect of nothing
writing with your finger on the breeze
wish me luck as I wave goodbye
to all my happy little friends
close the lock on the gopher wood's flimsy wall
how the fuck can I write my bets
with all these crappy little pens
this wasn't what I meant at all
|
||||
6. |
everything turns beige
03:57
|
|||
come in from the cold and join the coffee revolution
let me draw their logo on your skin
all those lovely shades of brown
and all that endless stirring
furring up the system from within
check your rising panic at the door of Caffè Nero
from the gutter there's a view of Wetherspoons
any minute now you'll find another consolation
floating on the wash of traffic fumes
we're all of us in the gutter
we're all of us in the gutter
we're all of us in the gutter
but we're looking at Wetherspoons
join the army, join the dots or join the revolution
everywhere you go it looks like home
singing songs of Primark as you cross the concrete ocean
dreaming on your bed of styrofoam
every day in every way you're getting so much better
learning all your metronomic tunes
leaking out your stuffing like a water-damaged sofa
hosed down in the corporate monsoon
we're all of us in the gutter
we're all of us in the gutter
we're all of us in the gutter
but we're looking at Wetherspoons
|
||||
7. |
aren't you glad?
04:04
|
|||
aren't you glad
aren't you glad
aren't you glad you've got a voice?
mechanical cynical tyrannical liminal
your democratic right to be ruled by criminals
bail out the banks and close down the borders
batten down the hatches 'gainst the welfare marauders
just follow orders though you can't get in unless you've paid
best be best-behaved
no more escapades
lock up your daughters
lock up your daughters
lock up your daughters so they can't see what a mess you made
aren't you glad you've got a voice?
|
||||
8. |
||||
she's the first one that I turn to every morning
she's the one who helps me make it through the night
i just need to take my fill
with a few prescription pills
to help me on that long familiar slide
I don't believe in being healthy
I don't believe in taking sides
I just know I've placed my bets
and that one more cigarette's
gonna help me wash my blues out with the tide
I don't want no emphysema
I don't want to have to try
I don't want to live forever
I only want to choose a time to die
she's the only way I get to feel normal
she's the way I punctuate my waste of time
and I know she's going to kill me
but it never fails to thrill me
when she wraps me in her blanket from inside
I don't believe in being happy
I don't believe in getting high
but I've got my pension plan
and I'm waiting for the man
to carry me away before my time
I don't want no emphysema
I don't want to have to try
I don't want to live forever
I only want to choose a time to die
I don't want to live forever
I don't want to have to try
I don't want no stormy weather
I only want to choose a time to die
|
||||
9. |
too many monkeys
03:11
|
|||
so I googled you, and it turns out you're living
in a house in Spain with a harem of women
and your brother's a geologist who's running for mayor
in a town near Tashkent (though nobody cares)
you were spotted down in Mexico designing a boat
and you put that clip on YouTube with the pig and the goat
it's you it's us it's her it's them it's him it's me
we're all the cancer that killed /b/
sheep damned lies and the internet
too many monkeys
sheep damned lies and the internet
now it says in Wikipedia you sold your soul
for a bag of old memes and a barrel roll
I hope they tasted sweet cause I'm not being funny
but that's not the going rate for souls in anyone's money
why are bananas bent?
too many monkeys
why can't I pay my rent?
too many monkeys
who's gonna take control?
too many monkeys, too many monkeys
who's gonna steal your soul?
too many monkeys, too many cooks
if that isn't you on Facebook then they sure got your looks
if everything is relative my brothers are crooks
there's just too many monkeys
too many monkeys, not enough sense
it'll only make you dizzy if you sit on the fence
it's just a lot of shouting and the noise is immense
there's just too many monkeys
sheep damned lies and the internet
too many monkeys
sheep damned lies and the internet...
|
||||
10. |
horses
04:33
|
|||
half a pound of rotting fish
a jeweler's ring without a wish
a semi-precious stone
a fox
a toad
all those dreams you never caught
and all those battles, never fought
and all that roadkill lying
in the road
don't look back, there isn't room
it's not you, it's the credit boom
remember how the milk and honey flowed?
can't believe your light is dying
you'd sell your soul but no one's buying
you know you're only reaping what you sowed
I bet you never opened that cheese shop in Nazareth
I bet you never paid back all the money you owed
I bet you never stitched up the fabric of spacetime
if wishes were horses
your head would explode
now it's four in the morning
you've got one more drink of wine
has the age of reason blown your blues away?
all those familiar demons
all those voices down the line
don't listen now, they've nothing new to say
just roll it up
roll up the map of Europe
unfurl the charts of hell
it's not enough to lose your faith
you have to lose your mind as well
face down in the last ditch, dreaming
all those mangled codeine dreams
all those plans you won't be needing
all those crazy schemes
just roll 'em up
roll up the map of Europe
unfurl the games of chance
it's not enough to court the blues
you have to let them join the dance
no rest for the damned, no refuge
from Uncle Google's all-seeing eye
say hello to the cloud of knowing
kiss yourself goodbye
and roll it up
I bet you never opened that cheese shop in Nazareth
I bet you never paid back all the money you owed
I bet you never saw how it looked from the outside
if wishes were horses
your head would explode
|
||||
11. |
when it rains
04:05
|
|||
when it rains she sits
between the old world and the broken
half in shelter, dreaming
of that sweet, slick scripted future
now long past
she hold the static fast
lost
from narcotic peace untimely ripp'd
if she can wear it so it fits
if she can wear it so it fits
if she can wear it so it fits
if it rains it fits
when it rains she sits
half innocent, scheming
of that sweet unscripted future
from narcotic peace untimely ripp'd
hold fast
she's innocent
half innocent
she dreams the thin green lines are smoking
she keeps her lines
keeps her lies unspoken
so it fits
if she can wear it so it fits
when it rains
it fits
|
||||
12. |
don't go to sleep
04:57
|
|||
my shoes look ok in the moonlight
you might almost think I'd grown them on my feet
my shoes look ok in the moonlight
you might almost think I'd grown them on my feet
with just a touch of faith
if you ignore the pixellation
they'd be real
those clouds look ok on the skyline
don't look for the cracks that let the light creep in
those clouds look ok on the skyline
don't look for the cracks that let the light creep in
pasted on the backdrop
two cheers for the broken rain machine
don't go to sleep in the churchyard
its shadow stamped stamped like tin against the sky
don't go to sleep in the churchyard
its shadow stamped stamped like tin against the sky
don't look for the scraps of paper
floating like dead pixels on the tide
don't go to sleep with the light on
don't go to sleep in the dark
don't go to sleep with the light on
don't go to sleep in the dark
don't go to sleep with the light on
don't go to sleep in the dark
don't go to sleep with the light on
don't go to sleep
don't go to sleep in the dark
my face looks ok in the mirror
you might almost think I'd grown it on my skull
my face looks ok in the mirror
you might almost think I'd grown it on my skull
with just a touch of faith
if you ignore the pixellation
I'd be real
it's just a photocopy
a photocopy of a rain machine
a photocopy of a rain machine at night
|
Rick Foot England, UK
Double bassist and singer-songwriter.
"Splendid and off-the-wall" Festivals For All
"A freak" Jersey Evening Post
Streaming and Download help
Rick Foot recommends:
If you like Rick Foot, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp