1. |
The Tiger - A Soundcheck
01:43
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I could be the Tiger, who stalks you night and day
Or I could be the poacher that blasts that beast away
I could be the earthquake that drops you to your knees
I’ll do whatever you please
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2. |
Build A Coffin For Me
03:03
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Build a coffin for me
And could you fill it with grief?
And can you load it so heavy
That it buckles and creaks?
And would you all shed a tear?
Create a river so clear
That you can see to the bottom
Flowing year after year
Form a queue at the door
I’ll float above you all
With a smile so wicked
As friends and relatives talk
“What a wonderful life
Full of heartache and strife
Oh, that boy was so crazy
Truly one of a kind”
Am I deluded to expect so much appreciation?
Once life’s concluded, form a ring of hope around the nation
All creeds and cultures will join up for the greater good
This won’t happen
But I wish it would…
Please build a coffin for me
Bury me six-feet deep
So, just for once I’ll feel special
While I eternally sleep
Please build a coffin for me
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3. |
Prepare the Pipes
04:31
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A moistened mattress
From a fever dream
Unbridled panic
You dirty drama queen
A blood red sunrise
Reflects off an old guitar
You can run all you want to
But you won't get far
A tortured poet
Creative cocaine fiend
Runs his yellow’d fingers
Through 90’s magazines
His tinted glasses
Disguise his absent gaze
There's no sense in rushing
He’ll be fucked for days
Prepare the pipes and we’ll be fine
Numb in body and numb in mind
In your mind. In your mind
Prepare the pipes and we’ll be fine
Numb in body and numb in mind
In your mind. In your mind
Finely balanced
By a spoiled surprise
No, she can’t be trusted
Those shifty angel eyes
A back street banger
Or a future queen
To those dirtied masses
Once washed but never clean
The eyes are rolling
As you rot inside
No, I can't console you
But I'm by your side
You never listened
To your own advice
If it nearly kills ya
Don't try it twice
Prepare the pipes and we’ll be fine
Numb in body and numb in mind
In your mind. In your mind
Prepare the pipes and we’ll be fine
Numb in body and numb in mind
In your mind. In your mind
You're chemically owned
You can't sit up on your own
You can barely raise your head
You're a sucker for the pipe
At least you were tonight
Prepare the pipes (Prepare the pipes)
Turn out the lights (Turn on the lights)
Just for tonight, courting disaster
Cracked teeth, wild eyes
Glass filled thick lines
Missing daylight
Nowhere to hide
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4. |
The Python - A Mistake
02:18
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Give me a time when I can survive
When God will not fail me, where I’m healthy of mind
I’m on the brink, I need you to think
For a time when I’m not so reliant on drink
There’s sick in the sink, there’s blood in my eyes
Every relationship spoiled by lies
As I lay on the floor. I can’t take any more
My head won’t stop pounding, it’s split at the core
Well, I can be the python
That strangles you with love
Or I can be the demon
That steals you from above
I can be the powder
That seeps its way inside
And crucifies your mind
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5. |
WORMFOOD
05:17
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What’s a boy to do with a phantom such as you?
Captured in your smoky haze
Hysterical and wild. You’re truly Satan's child
An apparition formed by grace
Oh, I get high, high, high
When I see you floating by
Oh I get high, high, high
Through the rooftops we will fly
Oh, I get high high high
Well, what’s a ghost to do for a man without a clue?
Caught up in your senseless chase
Delusional boy-child. A spectre you defiled
Astride between your hope and fate
Oh, I get high, high, high
Then I hang my head and cry
Oh I get high, high, high
I’m not the interventionist type
Oh, I get high high high
So forthright, In hindsight
I’d sink as low as one can go
My eyes glued, just to you
The only weakness I can show
Knock once more on death’s door
And you shall reap just what you sow
I promise, I’ll lead the tributes.
I’ll play you all and I play to win
I’ll score your end with a violin
Feed the worms, return to Earth
Untimely end, so well deserved
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6. |
She Has a Way
05:13
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She has a way
To see beyond the horizon
And show no surprise
As the sun burns her eyes
She has a way
That she straps up her boots
Shoelaces tied in a noose
In her leopard pant suit
You scream her name
She has a way
I gotta say
The way she enters a room
It’s liked she’s howled at the moon
A certain bringer of doom
I’m not okay
Her skin is perspiring
That makes my desiring
Hotter than fire
No mistake, she has a way
She seals your fate
Oh, she's fixing the game
A tyrannical reign
She's the Queen of insane
Oh, the pain
But she’s worth every bandage
She's so heavy handed
The siren has landed
Not just today, she’ll always have a way
So hard to take
The others do well
They're avoiding her spell
A certain window to hell
My heart aches
That they’ll never know
The chemical glow
That only she can help grow
You can’t escape her wicked ways
Is it pure lunacy to fall into your arms?
It's this that bothers me, an internalised alarm
Please make me happy, but treat me mean
And I won't panic, 'cos you're my queen
And when she walks
She strides with a mission
A strange disposition
With no indecision
If you get caught
She shows no forgiveness
She's nothing but business
You don’t want to witness
The fall
No, not at all
She has a way
To ensure you don’t stray
Returning day after day
To the moral decay
She has a way
She’s more thunder than lightning
Oppressive and frightening
But the rumble’s exciting
You get the shakes
She has a way
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7. |
Bird's Eye Penis
03:40
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Avoiding the realities of life by writing a pointless poem doused in self-pity
Translucent bottles parade the shelves. Drained, standing side-by-side
Their tacky bottoms are now far too cliché to be considered profound
Reluctantly, staring from above at the often-viewed bird’s-eye penis
Undoubtedly, the saddest angle imaginable, though certainly not the scariest
Wondering whether it will soon be consigned to the history books
Along with the strained six-pack, a remanence of sex appeal, and a full head of hair.
Reminiscing of heady and carefree days when hangovers were a bearable affliction
And night time bedroom-based rigidity was all but assured
Bags under reddened eyes were considered a temporary phenomenon
An existential anxiety has now well-and-truly burrowed into the holes vacated
By football, punk-rock and an undeserved feeling of self-assurance
Important memories fade with the continued flowing of time and whisky
And are replaced with an unwelcome, heavily filtered, yet still hurtful, nostalgia.
Whitened hair now sprouts in incorrect, and increasingly unreachable, places
Patience has grown as thin as the joke that now covers my irritable scalp
Weighing up the vice by calorie-counting the alcohol that’s slowly destroying me
The bathroom scales are to be feared and the mirror best avoided if possible
He’ll inevitably only scowl and grunt back at you for what you’ve let him become
But remember without that view from above, it might become obligatory
It’s a sad day when the bird’s eye penis angle is no longer a viable option.
Appreciate the sight while you still can.
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8. |
Tower of Hate
04:36
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I’m trapped in this tower of hate
My mind has been locked away
I call this place my home
But I’ve been here too long
I'm trapped in my tower of hate
You may think I’m acting all naïve
Proclaiming that there’s no chance of reprieve
My shackles; these ones, they can’t be seen
Just a slave to this vile morality
I’m trapped in this tower of hate
My mind has been locked away
I call this place my home
But I’ve been here too long
I'm trapped in my tower of hate
So, please lend a friend a helping hand
To emancipate this truly loveless man
Then scale these bile-covered walls
You’re not the only soul to answer my call
Take down one prophet at a time
Make them pay for each and every crime
Strike the king down from his throne
There’s no chance that we’re doing this alone
I’m trapped in this tower of hate
My mind has been locked away
I call this place my home
But I’ve been here too long
I'm trapped in my tower of hate
We’re trapped in this tower
We’re never coming back
We’re trapped in this tower
Preparing for attack
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9. |
Late Night Bitter Poem
03:31
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You stuck your tongue down an angel’s throat
She still flies, but she cannot go
Back to that place she once called home
Looks like heaven’s lost a soul
Because you could not keep control
For her, the bell has truly tolled
You claim you’re deadly under the sheets
But I know you’re still a coward out in the streets
You act the big man
But the reality’s you’re weak
You must return from whence you came
Even angels tire from your sick game
I think we both know who’s to blame
You might as well have clipped her wings
Tossed her halo towards the bins
Oh, what an embarrassment of sins!
Well boy, you’re heading for a fall
You’ll pay your penance after all
The meek were silent
But now the damned have got their call
When the day breaks
That’s when the heart aches
You stuck your tongue down an angel’s throat
She still flies, but she cannot go
Back to that place she once called home
Now, I don’t believe in divinity
But if your fate were up to me
Well... then I’ll see you in the fire
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10. |
The Dismantling
01:40
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Prepare the Pipes,
Turn out the lights,
Just for tonight
Courting disaster.
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11. |
The Monster - An End
02:05
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I walk to forget, I drink to forgive
But my legs have grown tired and my liver can’t live
The path has grown dark, but the end is in sight
Why can't I manage just one sober night?
My reflection looks back at what I have become
A rapid decline since 2001,
The past is the past, but my future looks grim
You’re probably right, you're safer with him
Well, I could be the monster that lurks beneath your bed
And I could be the dealer, who keeps your veins well fed
I could be the siren, that lures you to the rocks
You could be my chicken, And I will be your fox
I could be the bandit
Who’s holding up your heart
And I can be the devil
But you knew that from the start
Well, I could be the virus, Infecting from within
Where else would I begin?
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Bert Honour Oxford, UK
Singer-songwriter from Oxfordshire.
Misguided, wayward and fueled by whisky. Breaker of
strings, glasses and eardrums.
Primarily a songwriter and author, Bert is also a mediocre singer, guitarist, pianist and harmonica-ist.
... more
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