1. |
Words
03:32
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There was a time, not so many years ago
I had so much to say that I just didn't know
How best to phrase it or where to begin
I had to get down to the root, to the essence within
But words were such a struggle and clarity a chore
And my education failed me when I sought to say more
Than a working class lad can be expected to say
I tried to nail the truth and not let it get away
And so it always went, I'd refine my testament
Make it clearer, make it sharper, say exactly what I meant
And who ever thought the inkwell would run dry?
That the words wouldn't fail me but the motive might die
Is this how it goes? Getting jaded, getting old
Can't bring myself to speak all the wisdom that I hold
So much time and effort just to try and understand
And now I find I've nothing more to say
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2. |
Dimmed Wonderment Pt 1
02:33
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When I was a bairn I used to dream about libraries
And looking back they're still among my favourite memories
Endless rows of dusty books, a whole world to explore
My heart filled with endless yearning cos I always wanted more
There's a melancholy magic in a box of old books
Lost souls lingering where nobody looks
As you flick through the pages, catch a glimpse of past ages
The thoughts that animated long-forgotten sages
There's a comfort in knowing that there'll always be a home
For each battered and tattered, arcane, obscure tome
And I don't believe in heaven and I never cared for wealth
All I ever hoped for is a place on the shelf
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3. |
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Picture this: a kid with an inquisitive mind
It's the natural state of being but you tend to find
That it doesn't last and in the back of the class
All the kids care about is having a laugh
And the teachers don't care cos they're way too jaded
Their former enthusiasm has long since faded
Their boredom is infectious so they hate and are hated
And the children's potential is crushed and exterminated
Cos what they do in school is manufacture fools
Who'll do as they're told and accept being screwed
First lesson they're impressing on the mind of the youth
Is sit down, shut up and follow the rules
But that's no way to help a child's mind grow
There's no mental stimulation in going with the flow
Education should foster thought, both critical and creative
To produce citizens who can take the initiative
But that's what they're scared of: kids who'll think for themselves
They want passive consumers who'll take whatever's on the shelves And not ask awkward questions full of how's and why's
About the way things work and the shape of their lives
So the world is broken down into separate spheres
Each devoid of context so their meaning disappears
And the bulk of all school work is just re-phrasing what you're told
You hardly have to think just fit yourself to the mold
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4. |
Dimmed Wonderment Pt 2
03:02
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Two years, three years, maybe even four
School left my brain for dead, I'm sorry to report
Another two squandered on a bricklaying course
Before I hit rock bottom and regained my power of thought
Like Tim Timebomb, I was seven years down
Paralysed by angst and a perpetual frown
Music gave me my voice and a solace in sound
Books gave me ideas how to get up off the ground
I struggled and I studied to change my behaviour
I came to understand the revolution as my saviour
Commit to being better through struggle and strife
But I ain't Jimmy Stewart, this ain't “A Wonderful Life”
Now I was never one to view the world with amazement
But an interest in learning was a means of engagement
Education enriches and enlivens the mind
But all I really want now is a way to pass the time
Scratch: It's all academic, curio-apathetic
A book over breakfast and a book before bed
Not to sharpen awareness, but just to numb my head
Take me somewhere far away in space and time
Up to Yeavering Bell or to the Orcadian Isles
Then back to my fire-lit den at 4am
To those far-off days back before I turned ten
Back to a past that could never last
Reading Homer and Beowulf and “The Boy With The Bronze Axe”
It's pathetic I know, but I was happier alone
Give me a book and I was sorted, like a dog with a bone
Intellectually flexing while I lay there prone
My ideal adventure, imagination left to roam
World shut out in shadows, sat reading by the fire
A semi-circle of bliss before I sank in the mire
And honest, did it ever get better than that?
Brief hours of isolation, of detachment snatched
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5. |
Salt Flats
03:34
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Blue skies bearing down on a blank landscape
Featureless salt flats far as the eye can make
Sun beating down without pity, without hate
Indifferent to life and the scene it surveys
A shimmering mirage hovers on the horizon
Insubstantial as a ghost, it lingers like a dream
Life lies prostrate with the temperature rising
A promise made, never to be redeemed
In all this bright, wide world, does nothing grow?
In all this vast, aching space, does nothing change?
Where in this empty, circling horizon is the hope?
The heavy, leaden clouds and the release of rain
Oh the sky could never be as blue as me
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6. |
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I once made a decision I might live to regret
Fell out of step with the world, a bit like Minor Threat
Playing games I can't win is a lifestyle I reject
Cos the thing that matters most is to keep your self-respect
Yet I'm scared of growing old and disowning my soul
Forgetting all my ideals and giving up on my goal
Cos I know the path I've chosen is the hardest road
And I know in the end I'll be cold and alone
But I can't escape the feeling that I had no choice
Chasing ideals and dreams, I tend to drift to extremes
I refused to listen to the Siren's voice
I may be a fool, but I'm my own man
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7. |
Sell Out
03:55
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How long did I hold out before I sold out?
Fifteen years or so on the dole
Spent aiming for the brink of a dank, black hole
Spent nurturing the flickering flame of my soul
As if it might have been blown out by the slightest breeze
As if everything was perfect so I had to hit “freeze”
Preserving the present against the threat of the future
A life not lived unless the circumstance suits ya
Did it my way? Did what? Not a lot
Mostly hunkered in my bunker in the company of my thoughts
Tried to figure things out so I'd know what it's about
Get my bearings and my targets set before I set out
If you know you wanna blow you gotta learn to fix the fuse
If you ache to create you've gotta hunt and catch your muse
But nowt ever lasts even though you paid your dues
Scurvy fuckers at the dole made me an offer I couldn't refuse
The bird leaps from the nest in the ultimate test
Either the theory takes flight or ya hit the deck in a mess
So with a knot of anxiety and struggling with stress
I threw myself into the fray of agitprop and protest
And yeah, I got burned, ugly lessons learned
Some of those I called “comrade” with a trust they never earned
But still I kept my feet and I stood up to the heat
Give myself a quick shake and once again I hit the street
Kicking it with anarchists, black flags and clenched fists
Days of hope, days of rage, days of getting proper pissed
Fucking with the fascists, running rings around the pigs
It didn't always work, but they're still the days I miss
But with a staggering stumble the whole scene collapsed
And looking back in anger is a point I've never passed
All my hopes and ideals were nailed up on that mast
And when I watched it go down it felt like that was my last
So here I am, in work and out of hope
Feeling like a failure, another washed up joke
Living in retreat, jaded and lame
Haven't the strength to get up and fail again
Yeah boy I got old and sold out
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PigFuckingSick Sunderland, UK
PigFuckingSick has become the outlet for a series of one-off projects from me, Neil O'Brien. I've previously released a total shit-ton of music of all flavours under the Rude Corps moniker. As with the Rude Corps stuff, everything is written and produced with Renoise. ... more
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