Armchair Theatre


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A collection of songs about people trapped in armchairs, thinking they are somewhere else.


released April 1, 2011

Remixed and remastered August 2011.
1-3 & 6-10 written by THE SPECTRAL PRiDE;
© 2011 Bollockbrain Productions.
4 & 5 written by Jonny Deadpan & THE SPECTRAL PRiDE;
© 2011 Deep Coma & Bollockbrain Productions.

Arranged & played by THE SPECTRAL PRiDE.
Special guest: Jonny Deadpan on Al Vegoda & Wally Mudd.
Recorded, mixed and mastered by The Knobster at The Bunker.
Produced by Mr Reindeer.
Artwork: Frank Blunt.
© & ℗ 2011 Bollockbrain Productions.

A Genuine Bollockbrain Product.

Complete artwork is included with the album download.





A recording venture launched in the spring of 2004 to enable four friends to meet and indulge in a common favourite pastime: the laying down of sounds while making one another laugh.

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Track Name: Mr Brown

Night never comes too soon
When taking potshots at the moon
So bring it on

The caffeine and the snacks
Will keep the engine on the tracks
Right through till dawn

The boys are all online
Gearing up for a good time
High energy

So load and mobilize
Dust the cobwebs from your eyes
And slap that key

O when you're screeching through the moonlight to the mark
You're up there with the hornet and the eagle and the locust and the shark
It's the feeling that you're dealing with the force that drives the trees up to the sky
A desire so compulsive it's repulsive to the fear that makes you cry: Thumbs-up, Mr Brown

The intel strikes a chord
When it's green across the board
All set to fire

The chin-mounts and the stubs
Will make the bumpkins bounce and grub
Like they're on wires

The boys are GEN-IV-eyed
Senses focussed on the ride
Across the dunes

So keep the cross-hairs on the zone
Stay hungry for the dawn
And kill that moon

O when you're kicking up the dust along the street
You're out there with the dragons as they swoop to tear apart a viking fleet
It's the rapture in a mixture of emotions racing through your fingertips
A pleasure so demanding it's withstanding all objections on your lips: Thumbs-up, Mr Brown

Now a settlement appears like a load of Lego glowing on the plain
The magazines are rattling, missiles blazing in a hellfire hurricane
The shanties are exploding, roads eroding as the trees fly up the sky
The kids all flames collapsing, mothers gasping, lungs too burnt to scream or cry: Thumbs-down, Mr Brown
Track Name: There Goes Bill

There goes Bill with a wibble and a wobble
And a creak in his stride today
All iced-up with the dumbers and the numbers
On a backroad to Tiger Bay

Poor old Bill, huddled in a muddle
With the joss-sticks and oolong tea
Can't tell his As from his Es in a puddle
Of remembrance and fantasy
Hey Bill

There goes Bill in a summer of love
With the headband and fairylights
Turned right on with the power of a flower
On a warm San Franciscan night

Bobalong Bill a-sneaking and a-freaking
Through the kaftans and jesus-boots
Grooving away to the Mamas and the Papas
And a homegrown bamboo flute
Hey Bill

Slow down, Bill, the sizzle in the swizzle
Is a long way away today
The fire has gone, doused in a drizzle
Of banality and worn cliches

Peripheral Bill, mumbling and a-grumbling
As the catheter drips away
This is the hour of the withering flower
And the wallpaper fades to grey
Hey Bill
Track Name: Mo

Blue is the sky through the window today
Blue is the skirting-board, blue the duvet
Blue is the cushion and blue is the chair
Blue are the fingers that run through your hair

Life is change
And things can sometimes be so strange
Days are long
When everything keeps going wrong

Nasty the hate when you can't get your way
Nasty the feeling the hate's here to stay
Nasty the chinese burn, nasty the sore
Nasty the fingers you trapped in the drawer

Life is pain
The tears are swirling down the drain
Days are hard
The dog is whimpering in the yard

More then the kneecap you cracked in the fall
The bruises and scratches, the mangy catcalls
More than the doll that was thrown at the door
Its head broken open, the eyes on the floor

Life is warm
A flower unfolding in the dawn
Days are here
The weeks are turning into years
Track Name: Al Vegoda

This is the early learning centre
This is the place where science meets truth
This is the grand endurance
Where men play hard and boys learn how to lose

I can beat this, I can beat this
Cos I'm better than you
I can beat this, I can beat this
Cos I've thought it through
I can beat this, I can beat this
Behind my cool I'm red, black
And deep blue

This is the year of the catsuit
Adoring women gazing up at you
Fag-ash tuxedo junction
Sour benzedrine, a grave of watery booze

She is the judge and jury
The summing up, the calculating glance
Witness the prostitution
Right to win, left to chance

I can beat this, I can beat this
Got a feel for the action and a passion for the wheel
I can beat this, I can beat this
Got the skill for the hustle and the muscle for the kill
Behind my cool I'm red, black
And steel blue

This is the learning centre
This is the place where dreams become bad debts
This is the grand illusion
Place your bets
Track Name: Wally Mudd

Behold the Muddy Man
Wider than a caravan
Filling up the shopping cart
With brandysnap and bakewell tarts

The mighty Muddy Man
Two-storey mastodon
Striding across the land
A cornish-pastie in each hand

Oh, Wally Mudd I am the Mudd
You're just a spud Oh, lovely spud
Riding the big kahuna
Over the crud

Yum-yum-yum yummy-yum
Red, green and purple gums
Following the multipacks
Of tasty potato snacks

Yum-yum-yum yummy-yum
There goes another bun
Joining the legions
Of hundreds and thousands

Big Wally Mudd I am the Mudd
Up to no good Oh, goody good
Motion is neverending
Lost in the flood

Groaning tables, greasy bacon
Slide that fried egg down
Towers of bagels, glazed and vacant
All he leaves is brown
And disguised as clay

Can't resist the flavour
Of Hoola Hoops and Quavers
Scoop them up, ram them in
Wipe the dribble from your chin

Beware the turnabout
What goes in must come out
Pressure building in the pipes
Bubble and squeak getting ripe

There goes the Muddy Man
Darkest cloud across the land
Wiser men run for cover
Chocolate drops from Krakatoa

Go, Wally Mudd I am the Mudd
Big useless spud The spud is good
Headfirst and mouth wide open
Into the crud I loves the crud

Go, Wally Mudd Mudd Mudd Muddy Mudd
Life is no good The crud is good
Darkness is neverending
Track Name: Darby

Sun on high, prairie sky
Looking the longhorns in the eye
Crack a beer, rope that steer
Redhot iron across the rear

On the hop, clippety-clop
Sheriff badge and a lollipop
Tasselled hat, boots and spurs
Riding the big boys on all fours

Saddle up!

Giddy up, cheeky pup
Trade in the trough for a stirrup cup
Spellbound smiles, blood-red tiles
Feeling the jab of the old nail-file

On the range, nice blue flames
Keeping the heart from going lame
Steaming flans, pots and pans
Tough as the yarn from Acrilan

Whittle that wood!

Sun so low, where's the glow?
Trampled to dust with the mistletoe
Runny eggs, bandy legs
Flopping about with the muddiest dregs

On the heap, feeling cheap
Handful of helpers to bring on sleep
Head so raw, ankles sore
Cowpoke jiggery cheerio

Get here now!
Track Name: Shackleton

The pressure of life squeezes like a vice
Men buckle unless they are assured
Endeavour has gone, crucified by ice
Let's pull together and take this mess onboard

O when the wind comes whistling up the pass
Keep alive, boys - stay alive
Think of the times you had a fuller glass
Keep alive, boys - stay alive

Cold and starvation will keep a man awake
Guts rumble and creak like a yardarm
Chapped lips smack for a lovely piece of hake
Ne potaties to warm you like a charm

Push all the snarling demons from your mind
Keep alive, boys - stay alive
Too much disharmony will make you blind
Keep alive, boys - stay alive

Frostbite and chilblains can wreck the finest day
Survival is now the main concern
The lights of St Georgia are a lifetime away
But I tell you: One day we will return

No time for ruminating on the past
Keep alive, boys - stay alive
Only the absentminded can't be arsed
Keep alive, boys - stay alive
Track Name: Small Game for Big Hunters

Smoke-rings are floating in the clubhouse
Trophies all lined up on the walls
Big shiny eyes
Stare you down and criticize
A twelve-bore can be a powerful thing

You know it will chain your hand together
You know it will nail you to the floor
Day after day
The deepsea divers choke and sway
Dogma can be the wildest thing

It's behind you - as plain as plain can be
Standing there behind you - stroking a goatee
It's behind you - high up on its toes
Standing right behind you - a finger up its nose

Fuddwits are whispering the clubhouse
Grapevines are climbing up the walls
Titbits and lies
Scratch your back and vilify
A driveller can be a powerful thing

You know it will tear apart your love-life
You know it will bore you to the bone
Year after year
The forklift drivers frown and sneer
Failure can be a furious thing

It's behind you - a predator waylaid
Standing there behind you - sharpening a blade
It's behind you - don't look the other way
Standing right behind you - as big as Hemingway

It's behind you - jaw hanging open wide
Standing there behind you - better run and hide
It's behind you - tooled up and set to blast
Standing right behind you - that shadow from the past
Track Name: Ghost Train

It's the night of the demon, the sign of the claw
Boogla-wooglas are turning up by the score
The taste of the static is the taste of delight
And when the wagons start trundling we'll be zombie looning tonight

Here in the dark spirits are burning
Pulsing with energy
Flickers and sparks at every turning
The glow of urgency

Manic we go corner to corner
Derangements without end
O what a ride to spook a brother
A zombie round the bend

Down in the dungeons chained to the wall
The old man is howling like a dog with no balls
The kick of the poison is no kick of delight
And now the vapours are rising we're all zombie looning tonight

Lost in the dark everyone's screaming
Blood gurgling down the drains
Spiders and snarks, dusty grimalkins
Gift-wrapped in cellophane

Holding on tight to one another
The world is all in flames
O what a sight to scare your mother
A zombie born again
Track Name: Gnosy Ones

And all the stir-fries in the world are burning
And all the boys and all the girls are yearning
And you just sit there in your chair all rosy
Cause anyone who ever cared is gnosy