1. |
whoever you vote for
04:35
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stop - look - listen to the empty preacher
he'll only tell you what you want to hear
not just a bug, he's always been a feature
let's all pretend that we're supposed to care
no more time until the future happens
no more room to find a common cause
when the only things we sell are weapons
now's the time to start a few more wars
you voted for change so you'd better believe that it's coming
you voted for progress but no one knows where to begin
you voted for freedom but freedom means more than just running
whoever you vote for the government still gets in
run back home and grab that hopeless pamphlet
hide your mattress underneath the stairs
build a barricade of tins for comfort
aren't you glad you voted for that hair
[war. what is it good for?
economic growth]
all that fear is what the doctor ordered
all that hope is why you're spread so thin
all those reasons that you took for granted
still you're standing out here looking in
you'd better believe that you've run out of time for compassion
you're kinda relieved that they've run out of room at the inn
you won't be deceived that the truth is so far out of fashion
whoever you vote for the government still gets in
you voted for change so you'd better believe that it's coming
you voted for progress but no one knows where to begin
you voted for freedom but freedom means more than just running
whoever you vote for the government still gets in
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2. |
lincolnshire poachers
05:10
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living twenty miles from nowhere, where the ocean meets the sky
and the road runs down from Sleaford to the sea
if you're looking for adventure there's so much that you can try
there's earth and air and water and they're free
we were trying to kill the evening but it didn't want to die
we were trying to find a way to get back home
we were trying to find a reason just to keep from asking why
we found a set of car keys and a phone
we're all falling down but there's nowhere to fall
nowhere to fall from a world that's so round
all falling down but there's nowhere to fall
nowhere to fall from the ground
you can blame it on the weather, or the old familiar trouble
you can blame it on the loot that wasn't there
but it's hard to find a cash till under fifteen feet of rubble
and it's hard to drive a tractor in despair
so we came back from the Co-op with some bruises and a cough
and the bitter taste of failure in our smiles
though Lincolnshire's so flat, there must be somewhere to fall off
from Jerusalem to Kate's is forty miles
we're all falling down but there's nowhere to fall
nowhere to fall from a world that's so round
all falling down but there's nowhere to fall
nowhere to fall from the ground
living twenty miles from Sleaford where the ocean meets the sky
and the road runs down from nowhere to the sea
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3. |
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what was it you wanted to say
about your fallen idol and his slippers of clay
and how the new world order is the price that you pay
and how you hit that rusty nail on the head
what was it you left in the rain
was it a fat deposit on the buffalo train
or just a pastry omelette that you can't quite explain
although you know it'll all make sense when you're dead
the harmolodics and the phonics and the ride back home
the supermarkets and the car keys in a china bowl
you misremembered the dismemberment of Graham's phone
you're overzealous cos you're jealous of the things you own
your future, eaten by goats
so many dickheads, so many votes
your garden, overrun with pigs
your house: full of twigs
everything you make, somebody wrecks it
every single egg got put in one brexit
not just the rigs of the times, these are the times of the rigs
and this is your house
and it's full of twigs
what was it you wanted to ask
about your sweet rebellion that got lost in the past
and how the ghost of the future has been hijacked at last
and now you're living in your uncle Joe's shed
what was it you wanted to be
before this grotesque revisionist history
where the future is the past and the past will set you free
although the truth is that you'd rather be dead
the harmolodics and the phonics and the ride back home
the supermarkets and the car keys in a china bowl
the transformation of a nation where the truth has flown
no more compassion, there's a ration but you're on your own
compulsory clown school, is that what you want
I think you'll find that t shirt is on back to front
is that a cat in a hat or just a pig in a wig
or is it your house, full of twigs
bail out the bankers, throw out the proles
close down the borders cos they're full of holes
the least of these evils is still pretty big
and so is your house, and it's full of twigs
are you sure that's your car, cos I think it's on fire
you'd have to say that chimp has found his heart's desire
they're England's defenders, they come to all your gigs
and look, it's your house, and it's full of twigs
well hey, is that your bicycle? so where are its wheels
it turns out that your bank account is full of eels
I don't believe that's Santa Claus, dancing a jig
on top of your house
which is full of twigs
like a boiled potato that somebody sat on
that's gone seventeen rounds with a young Ricky Hatton
the dystopian nightmares of Adolphus Spriggs
take place in your house, which is full of twigs
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4. |
potato
02:20
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so here I sit and eat my potato
there's nothing I would rather do
than sit here in the sun, away from everyone
eating my potato with you
I wish that I could be a potato
my troubles would be far and few
roasted mashed or boiled, or fried in olive oil
or sauteed in a lovely stew
I'd be safe and warm beneath my cosy bed of earth
careful with that spade in case you chop my friends in half
give me ears and eyeballs if you're looking for a laugh
potato heads are wiser, for they tread upon the path
but now I haven't got a potato
there's nothing I left for me to do
but sit here in the sun, away from everyone
and dream of my potato and you
and dream of my potato and you
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5. |
house of cows
02:34
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I dreamed I woke in a room in the house of cows
dreamed I woke in a room in the house of cows
chasing after the moon of leaves and waking in the blue
I dreamed I woke in a room in the house of cows
they grow like bulbs on a page in the book of sand
grow like bulbs on a page in the book of sand
ain't got no Voynich or hidden screed gonna read me like a mushroom
they grow like bulbs on a page in the book of sand
it was down by the crossyards seventy tons
fore the wind got caught in anchors
down by the crossyards seventy tons before
seed him run with his heads all flung to the wind like proper Jesus
down by the crossyards walking before the lord
I dreamed I woke in a room in the house of cows
chasing after the moon of leaves and waking in the blue
crushed in the arms of sleep like she was trying to forget you
dreamed I woke in a room in the house of cows
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Rick Foot England, UK
Double bassist and singer-songwriter.
"Splendid and off-the-wall" Festivals For All
"A freak" Jersey Evening Post
Rick Foot recommends:
Richard Scarry Lied To Me
by Dan O'Farrell & The Difference Engine
Recorded pre-lockdown, released on 4 December 2020, Dan's potent songs produced beautifully by Andy Lewis
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Cactacus (ALBUM)
by Ruth Theodore
Ruth Theodore's masterpiece - a perfectly paced collection of affecting songs
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Albertosaurus
by Waitress For The Bees
Sweet, funny and heartbreaking songs about dinosaurs from Emma Hooper
go to albumIf you like Rick Foot, you may also like:
A lil' bit Bon Iver, a lil' Beirut. This is warm, contemplative and soulful folk music from Sweden.
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Make-Believe a.k.a. 365 Days vol. 4
by Jessica in The Rainbow
Dreamy, intimate experimental pop, part of the artist's challenge to herself to write and record a song every single day of the year.
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On this harmonically rich LP, the Scottish singer-songwriter contrasts gorgeous soprano harmonies with strident folk-rock instrumentation.
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