1. |
Wipe
04:17
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A dozen shots go soaring, one's enough to wake the bind.
Murder for the weekend to celebrate that peace you signed.
Commiserations served on the rocks - threatening any squealers.
Pointing to the crown or the cops, yet those bottom feeders quote us all the heroes thinking that they're two of a kind.
You say your day will come soon now everyone thinks your hard - would you get up the yard.
And when you shit on us all don't forget to wipe.
Sink us to a new low, your military beats collide.
Marching through the big smoke out of sync and out of time.
The khaki from your head to your socks - bought in ALDI.
Would you keep the skidmarks inside your jocks, off the streets, because romantic Ireland is dead and gone it's with O' Leary in the grave.
And when you shit on us all, don't forget to wipe.
Get up the yard.
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2. |
Briefcase Man
04:03
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Your words cut me like a chainsaw,
slowly wedging through my mind
Every suit you wear offends me,
for the ugly truth that they may hide
Looking down on me from your ego,
through my soul with those shark eyes
You extend your hand as if to say,
you know exactly who I am
My soul is yours to take
for what little money I can make
If you ever need to know your name,
check your pocket and count your change
Oh my god what have I done, I am you and we are one
I am Briefcase Man
You're the one I thought I'd never be,
but now look just where I stand
A spineless juggernaut of mundane,
a slice of toast eaten plain
A concrete effigy soaked in propane,
like the posterchild of disdain
My soul is yours to take
for what little money I can make
If you ever need to know your name,
check your pocket and count your change
Oh my god what have I done, I am you and we are one
I am Briefcase Man
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3. |
Strokestown Bypass
04:42
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I'm driving myself out west,
fortune only spurning.
For dreams of paradise, I'll leave this life behind me.
Until suddenly a sign
for Strokestown house diverts me,
a cruel demented cry sees my spirit fly.
The Street lights flicker off and on,
cage the road like the Parthenon,
forever driving nowhere on the Stroketown Bypass.
If God is at the wheel, the devils in my soul
and the world it keeps on turning.
You've got to let the sunshine in.
I kick and scream to get out,
haunting skies conspiring.
The last of the sunlight fades
as a million eyes look on.
The empty halls, like forgotten tombs,
echo the past as the future looms
forever driving nowhere on the Strokestown Bypass
If God is at the wheel, the devils in my soul
and the world it keeps on turning.
You've got to let the sunshine in.
A million eyes glimmer through the mist,
and in death they are hungry still,
forever crying to no one on the Strokestown Bypass
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4. |
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I sit, cold tea in my hand
staring at the rain I realize,
life's slipping through my fingers.
Here in this place,
where shadows won't align with our ways
I cannot help but linger.
Where every word that I speak is a
foreign cross to bear on my pride
like bellyaches in sequence.
I need to get miles away from this town
before the fever breaks my soul.
I need to get miles away from this town,
but the fever makes me whole.
It's late, next round at the bar.
The same old same again,
I'll come alive after 15 pints of Guinness.
To weather the shame of a hollow piece of mind
in the guise of illicit screams of madness.
I need to get miles away from this town
before the fever breaks my soul.
I need to get miles away from this town,
but the fever makes me whole.
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5. |
Dogs on Beaches
03:33
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I used to think that life was made for living
but lately, I've been feeling some misgivings.
And if there is a God have you been listening,
I'll roll the dice and tell you all my feeling
because I have nowhere left to turn.
But you're only human.
If only I had read the signs,
I see glimmers of a world that passed me by.
But these pleasant deviations and their unborn revelations
never bloom.
I wish that I could meet you on the beaches,
let spirits run, the sun our only witness.
I'd step inside your light for just a moment,
and cruise with you on clouds of wild atonement
until there's nowhere left to run.
If only I had read the signs,
I see glimmers of a world that passed me by.
But these pleasant deviations and their unborn revelations
never bloom.
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6. |
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We've known each other since we were small,
we talk so much yet not at all.
I've tried to find some common ground,
you're quick to surmise it can't be found.
You've got your finger in every ear,
from Adelaide to Inis Oirr.
There's no test that I can take,
no race to run, no claim to stake.
I guess you'll break my heart again.
Oh I know, I'm nobody without your love
or your quiet praise.
Would you love me with more sex appeal
and love me until the end
or break my heart again.
I don't know what you want from me,
skinny jeans or dungarees.
To disappear or be replaced,
with a leaner model of Ivan Yates.
Suffer me for I embrace
our different worlds, our different tastes.
Ignore me once, ignore me twice,
believe me now there won't be a thrice.
Oh yes, you'll break my heart again.
Oh I know, I'm nobody without your love
or your quiet praise.
Would you love me with more sex appeal,
or high on temperance.
Would you love me if I never tried,
and gave up everything.
If I gouged out both of my eyes,
and washed them in the sink.
If I wipe the smirk right off my face,
and get tangled up in flames.
If I found myself a new career,
a doctor or a priest.
If I was 10 feet under the ground,
a distant memory.
Would you love me if I wasn't a freak?
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7. |
Hard Bastards
02:56
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I've lived through everything
now I want to live through you.
Pitch a tent inside your brain
and light a fire in you.
I am hooked by design,
its burning holes in my mind.
Close your eyes and move in slowly,
bite my lip like a twix.
Waste time don't make time baby,
put yourself in the mix.
Because I'm hooked by design,
its burning holes in my mind.
I don't care about anything but you.
Because I'm hooked by design,
its burning holes in my mind.
I am fucked by design.
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8. |
Ralph Fiennes
04:37
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A quiet night alone, sometime in the making
a wide-eyed chance for taking
But it's been so long, my stead hands are shaking
lying naked in the bed
You brush your off my face, I catch your gaze then look away
before I let you down, so I look around
I see a poster of the hotel Budapest
and a missing DVD from Schindler's List in the nick of time
Oh make a man out of me, do everything you can do
so this won't end so soon
Ralph Fiennes
I focus thought's on you, my confidence is building
as if you were a part of me -
on the back of my head wrapped up in a Turban
whispering violently
I realize I'm getting close,
my thoughts my conspire and compose
a feeling I can't buy or communicate
Lost in a flemish fairytale
like Almasy I must prevail and keep you in my sights
Oh make a man out of me, do everything you can do
so this won't end so soon
Ralph Fiennes
Ralph Fiennes, I think that I am losing my mind
Ralph Fiennes, I hope that it's not too late to shine
Ralph Fiennes, I hope that it won't take all night
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9. |
Ready Salted
03:58
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Sometimes life comes in Ready Salted flavour,
you spit it out, and then it swallows you whole,
and crawls back through a crevice in your dream.
Sometimes anger gets juxtaposed with pleasure,
like cheese & onion dance together,
then gets forever stuck between your teeth
howling like a ghost.
I'm running out of any words to say.
I'm going numb, my brain's in disarray.
I want to run away and never look back,
fast and loose until the earth turns flat.
These Bills & Expectations are messing with my head.
Sometimes I get this feeling I've been severed,
like phantom pains where my mind should be.
I'm running out of any words to say.
I'm going numb, my brain's in disarray.
I want to run away and never look back,
fast and loose until the earth turns flat.
These Bills & Expectations are messing with my head.
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10. |
How are tings?
03:14
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Time is dragging on
and I miss you so much.
I haven't seen your face in so long,
I fear I'm losing touch.
I'm dreaming of the day,
I get to see you again.
I'm chasing your shadows every day,
they're like silhouettes running through my brain.
Day after day we drift away,
and I'm holding on just to hear you say
How are tings?
Tings are shite.
Have you changed at all?
Do you view things in a different light?
Have you become more positive?
That would send shivers down my spine.
Soon we'll meet again,
though it seems like it will never end.
Whatever you may want to do,
I'd rather do something else.
Day after day we drift away,
and I'm holding on just to hear you say
How are tings?
Tings are shite.
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Simon Masterson Dublin, Ireland
Simon Masterson - a singer songwriter, multi instrumentalist, producer and father of none.
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