Lyrics
Deforestation
of Dak (2009)
plus
contemporary efforts
PEEL INTRO
Okay listeners, I
think you could
probably agree with me that that was a pretty far-out track. Now,
coming up in the next half hour we've got a seven-inch sent in from
Stinky and the Peepholes, an Essex band who don't care what they
play, also a twelve-inch from an Indian band called Gui'Varsh who do
care what they play but they won't tell me even though I've given
them an awful lot of money which I think is personally quite
disgusting. And an entire LP from Swedish rock legends Vitnitronic
at a specially-pressed 78 rpm. That should sound good to your ears
and to mine as well. Now, on with the rest of the show. People
often ask me, “Oi! Peel! Haven't you ever played” – “why
don't you” – or “have you ever listened to our demos?” and
the reason is, if anybody ever watched the documentary on BBC2 a
couple of years ago will know that my house is like one giant music
library and it disgusts my wife. Obviously I've got endless copies
of Teenage Kicks in my house, but unfortunately my whole family, my
wife and I are drowning in this stuff. You have to watch out
sometimes especially on a Thursday because rock turns up in the most
unexpected places. Just last Tuesday I was sitting in er in my
dining room eating my own bowl of cornflakes just before I came to do
a er show, I went to take a swig of tea and something fell against my
lips. And lo and behold it was a CD. That CD is this CD that's
coming up now. So on with the first track, it's called Chancery
Lane.
CHANCERY LANE
Through the city
of London tonight
There's rich men
bloated on the carcase
of life
If money talks
then they're the
translators
Laws are twisted
by these legislators
Hailing cabs from
the Courts of Justice
Pulses racing with
dreams of avarice
Tasting the fruits
of a privileged
position
Take the cash,
smash the opposition
And everybody is
picking up the bill
And everybody,
watching them steal,
watching them steal
From the Strand
through Chancery Lane
Streets of
splendour, but oh what shame
Canary Wharf
overlooking it all
Like gaudy candles
on this cake of
sprawl
In this game
there's still all to play
for
Though the chips
may be stacked in
their favour
So every march
every seditious journal
Is a finger in the
ribs that resistance
is fertile
Cos everybody is
picking up the bill
Everybody,
watching them steal,
watching them steal
There's always
those with uses
for civil rights
abuses
And jargon for
excuses -
journalese,
legalese, gagging fees
Court order
served, the server taken
down for proof
Suspicion of
harbouring the truth
Court order
served, you must not ride
here anymore
It's just like
1984
The state handed
over to private
interest
That drives the
agenda, from motorist
to militarist
And everybody is
picking up their bill
And everybody,
watching them steal,
watching them steal
There's always
those with uses
for civil rights
abuses
And jargon for
excuses -
journalese,
legalese, gagging fees
There's always
those with uses
for civil rights
abuses
And when they've
worn out their
excuses:
Turn away, turn
away, turn away
THINK ALIKE
We went out in
public but didn't last
long (didn't last long)
We turned round
and got the bus back
home
This damnable
stomach gets on my nerves
And the blanket
acceptance of their
terms
We try to keep
away from photocopied
minds
And we try to keep
away from
Sunlight hurts our
eyes so
Meet us in the
dead of night
Meet us under UV
Polite to a fault,
green peppermint tea
(Would you like a cup of tea?)
You may mock, but
these things are
important to me
Your scrawlings
and etchings, absurdist
and true ('surdist and true)
I think that we
could find a use for
you
Phone box shards
of the fractured
nation state
That we try to
keep away
Sunlight hurts our
eyes so
Meet us in the
dead of night
Meet us under UV
Revenge is a
beautiful word (beautiful
word)
A pleasing sound
in the pit of the
throat
Every injustice
colours my sight
(covers my sight)
As it might to any
technicolor sprite
Apathy – it
doesn't grind us down
Moulded futures
Slip beneath the
radar
Slip beneath the
everyday
Slip beneath the
ground war
You will find us
every day
Be sincere my
darling
We will meet you
every day
I want to plan
with you in the daytime
I want to form
with you in the
nighttime
I want to bear
with you in the daytime
I want to snare
with you in the
nighttime
I want to act with
you in the daytime
I want to take
with you in the
nighttime
I want to merge
with you in the daytime
I want to purge
with you in the
nighttime
I want to plan
with you
I want to form
with you
I want to bear
with you
I want to snare
with you
I want to act with
you
I want to take
with you
I want to merge
with you
I want to purge
with you
In the daytime, in
the nighttime
In the daytime, in
the nighttime, oh
In the daytime,
nighttime
Daytime, nighttime
Daytime, nighttime
Daytime,
nighttiiiiime
SCRAPING AND
BOWING
Tangled strands of
your life and my
life
knot up like my
hair
We catch a train
to a turgid somewhere
old
Ruptured thoughts
that slither and
spatter
inside of my head
Send me nauseous
for the porcelain bowl
Scraping and
bowing, and scraping again
does nothing for
your system
just gives you
rheumatism
Sally sneers, her
ballet Napoleon
has sunk without
trace in a blue rinse
But all I want,
she storms, is teenage
boys
The girl has wit –
her discourse on
Chaucer
not visible,
welcome or hip
Although spiced up
with crack dens and
sex toys
Crying and
shouting and knocking them
back
She stamps her
heavy feet
and beats a sad
retreat to the loo
A life's main
dilemma
played out in rep
each night
What if my
limitations are what keeps
me alright?
A safety valve, a
timed release
A way to discern
between that and this
Worry lines that
deepen like treason
Relief maps of pain
Sharpened pencils
etch their groove
again
Poor young soul,
he strove and he
strove
despite lack of a
brain to judge with
and he drove
himself onto a coronary
His sixty-fifth
self-published novella
now hung out to
dry in the death wind
Something gives
with the critical
faculty
Scraping and
bowing, and scraping again
Scraping and
bowing, and scraping again
BUTTERCUP MONK
Buttercup monk in
floral dress
Glides to my abode
Graces my feasting
table
To enjoy the
simple fruits
He speaks in hazy
days of concentration
of the old
society, stretched, pushed
to the limits
What will become
of us
Will things go in
reverse
Backs arched,
hairy all over
Picking all the
berries off the bush
I do not know, for
I am not as wise as
Dennis
or as smart as Lisa
All I know is:
Eggs float when
they're off
We're not that bad
All I know is:
Eggs float when
they're off
We're not that bad
BEFORE WE BEGAN
I took a fresh
page in my notebook
to remake a list
of plans
You know the kind
I'm getting at
The kind that
bubble up repeatedly in
the mindflow
Causing momentary
pain
And the list went
on forever
or at least to the
second page
and I was filled
with a sudden rage
that I would need
two lives to
accomplish half a page worth
of these sad
deluded dreams
and you can take a
man out of his job
but can you force
a man to stick to his
plans?
And all the time
that got stuck in the
fan
I try to shape it
but it falls from my
hands
It just rebels
when faced with all my
demands
I'm further back
now than before I
began
Before I began
Will you come
round to my place now
Cos I know that
you keep lists too
They get more
fruity as your mood
improves
And I've not been
rifling through your
things but I'll wager
They're as long at
least as mine
And the life that
I am living is a pain
in the sodding arse
Is it quite too
much to ask
that we can
synchronise for one night
out of seven
without both
falling asleep?
and you can take a
man out of his job
but can you force
a man to stick to his
plans?
And all the time
that got stuck in the
fan
I try to shape it
but it falls from my
hands
It just rebels
when faced with all our
demands
We're further back
now than before we
began
Before we began
I AM ALBA
Mourn my hi-fi
It died last night
I was there when
it drew
its last breath
Part of my growing
up
It's seen many
things
Played through
happy times
Belted out through
hard times
Well the tape deck
went first
Then the CD player
broke
Eventually the
knob fell off
I will buy a
replacement one
When the grief has
gone
I am broken, I am
alba
If You Were
If you were a pill
I could slip in my
coffee
I'd drink in your
essence to help me
sleep.
If you were a song
or a page from a
playscript
Then I could
recite you in my unquiet
dreams.
If you were a
knife I think I'd let you
cut me
We'd bleed out the
demons and bleed out
the dirt.
I need you here
And that's not
complex
But I'm not sorry
I need you here
And that's not
witty
But it's honest
It's honest.
If you were here
right now instead of
in this wordplay
We'd give up on
masks and foolish
conceits.
I need you here
With no more
hiding
Behind language
I need you here
And that's not
witty
And that's not
clever
But it's honest.
SCANDINAVIAN PINE
Regimented to a
fault
Silent our new
forest grows
It takes in CO2
and stuff
But doesn't seem
quite real enough
Treated, sprayed
and canopied
To keep off acid
rain, you see
Forgive me if I
think it's strange
That it's
geometrically arranged
There's a path
near where I live
Leading up to a
vandalised clearing
The London skyline
chills my soul
Such power without
feeling, leaves me
screaming
Residents all up
in arms
About an eco
offshore farm
That makes
electric from the wind
Guess they could
plug the windbags in
Protestors clog
the evening news
They say it spoils
the bland flat view
Blocking the
greenest thing they fear
You presume they
relish dirty nuclear
Our bloated
leaders sit in warmth
Dining out,
signing deals without
feeling
Save the rumble of
their guts
This city's ripe
for stealing, ripe for
stealing
Let me hug you now
- Scandinavian pine
Tell me all your
secrets and I'll tell
you mine
To the Gaia whole
from a rootless man
There must be some
room inbetween all
their plans
From a dreaming
soul to the unseen eyes
There must be some
truth inbetween all
their lies
To the Gaia, to
the Gaia whole
The devil's in the
detail, boys
Like who this
logging firm employs
With dubious
legality
Cheap labour to
fell a tree
Long hours on the
gang today
Breaking backs for
pittance pay
Migrants freezing
out of doors
Wondering what
they came here for, what
they came here for.
BREAKING THE TAPE
The extent you
believe
Enough to make me
grieve
Are you only the
credulous?
Then the day's
already lost
Our fragments
don't add up to lives
Conserving
supplies now
Living in the mind
now
The world is
bluffing
Attend to nothing
The language
slides and melts outside
Knock me to the
floor dear
Remind me I'm
still here
But you won't even
hurt me
Jesus who should I
be
Cos you think I
might break
That's the point
for Christ's sake
ANNA
Sitting at the
Akai desk
Splurge of
creativity
The dark-haired
loopy voice
Hither come from
Germany
Set off in my
youthful mind
New expanse of
energy
But please would
you repeat the words
For the sake of
clarity
Taking tools and
making new forms
Sending out those
sounds newborn
Anna –
creativism's queen
Anna – psychedelic
dream
Out of conversation
She's running
through her digimind
Scoops up errant
bars in turn
And chops and
twists and winds
The modernist
expression
And the musique
concrete
A polyrhythmic
siren
We tracked her
marks and stretched
Faking rules and
breaking tone laws
Gold in the mouth
of the Sun
Anna –
creativism's queen
Anna – psychedelic
dream
Anna – psychedelic
dream
She's coming,
she's coming
She's coming round
the mixer (x6)
HALLOWEEN
Halloween... (x4)
Halloween is such
a nice time
(Why is it a nice
time then?)
I dunno, just is –
but let me tell
you about it
Bats come out
Children come out
In their finest
costumes
Made of black
Faces painted in
lime green
(It makes you
sick)
Halloween (x4)
Pumpkin pie (x3)
(Won't you give it
a try?)
It tastes nice
(EAT IT!)
Mother's serving
pumpkin pie
On plastic plates
for the children
(the children?!)
“Talking”, she
tells them
it will feed them
all
You'll get fat
You'll get wide
You'll feel sick
and then you'll
die
Into the cemetery
you will go
Six feet under you
will be placed
Perhaps in a
wooden box
Or maybe not
What a horrible
end
(Maggots!)
In the fiery
depths of hell (x3)
(Hello Be'elzebub!
You awright are
you?)
Hello there young
man! Would you like
to buy a used car?
In the fiery
depths of hell
You'll meet Satan
and his three pronged
friend
Yes – he will poke
you
And he'll roast
you
That will be your
end
Halloween will not
be your friend
You won't see God
NEVER AGAIN
TASK
We're up the creek
without a paddle
Finances weak, in
fact they're addled
Things have been
bleak, but now it's
sweet summertime
What say you this
– let's get the map
down
Pick a few points,
maybe at random
That makes a route
– let's get the
bicycles out
Let's see the
furthest we can travel in
an hour (woh woh oo)
Let's see the
furthest we can travel in
a day (woh woh oo)
Let's see the
furthest we can travel in
a year (woh woh oo)
Let's see the most
unusual things that
we can see
There is such
eccentricity to gobble
We're up the creek
without a paddle
Finances weak, in
fact they're addled
Things have been
bleak, but now it's
sweet summertime
What say you this
– let's work to
order
Pack up some
snacks, a drink of water
That's all we need
– let's get the
bicycles out
The simple
pleasure of a journey
somewhere new
The buried
treasure of an unexpected
view
There are a
thousand places we can see
And oh my darling
even better than
arriving is to travel hopefully
So break it down,
please
Ahh – the simple
pleasure of a
journey somewhere new
Ahh - the buried
treasure of an
unexpected view
Ahh – a gentle
measure of an
undercluttered day
Ahh – it's quite
enough to make a
Keshcologist say (and I say)
We're up the creek
without a paddle
Finances weak, in
fact they're addled
Things have been
bleak, but now it's
sweet summertime
What say you this
– let's take the
path down
On through the
next expanse of woodland
Sehr wunderbar!
Let's get the bicycles
out
Ohhh and I feel
alive – I could be
human
And you look just
fine – you could be
human
We've all the time
– be honest,
decent and true
Because the only
thing that's better
than adventure is adventuring with you!
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