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What We Do

by THE SPECTRAL PRiDE

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    Artwork and lyric booklet are included when you download the complete album.
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1.
Peep-Oh! 04:42
Another day, another round of Don't knows Lines are grey, but that's the way the wind blows Dark delusions soak up all the sunshine Bad vibrations twist and turn the skyline Waking up is waking down No smiley face to wipe away the frown Taste of tension in the air Shadows boxing everywhere Taken in is taking out Boots and pizza thrown about Shuddering hunched up with the bends Talking to imaginary friends: Peep-oh! Deep distortions spiral on a downturn Calamine lotion soothes the scrapes and sunburn Waking up is waking down No laughing gas to wipe away the frown Taste of almonds in the air Flies and roaches everywhere Taking in is taken out Swabs and plasters cast about Writhing hunched up with the bends Talking to imaginary friends: Wrong side of the bed Peep-oh!
2.
Mr Chameleon 05:16
The razor glides: Do you feel fine? The one with the dimpled chin, the smooth behind What shall I be today? A flowerpot made of clay Holding a moment as it flies Finding a steady gaze This is the way the rose unfolds Shower-gel burbling down a hole This is the way the bigman hides Hoping the warmth inside glows on The wardrobe creaks: Are you in there? The one with the sharpest crease, clean underwear Who shall I be today? That man dressed all in grey Taking each moment as it comes Holding a steady gaze This is they way the world goes round Anonymous on the underground This is the way the hitman hides Hoping the spark inside shines on The front door shuts: Are we all here? The ones with the tightest butts on this frontier How shall I be today? Nearby but far away Squeezing the moment till it cracks Keeping that steady gaze This is the way the mind endures A pinch of salt and generic cures This is the way the madman hides Hoping the fire inside burns on Burn on!
3.
Rush hours turn the knuckles white Fists so tight they're gelignite Slowcoaches in every lane Ankles aching with the strain Sick to death of frozen deals Can't describe the way you feel Rant and bitch, scratch that itch Slap the steering wheel Dazed with drink, kitchen sink Every plate is broken Pussyfoot, keep it shut Tons of shit unspoken Spick-and-span, non-stick pan Fingers all sleepwalking Chug-a-lug, yank the plug Scratch that itch again Parking is an endless race Someone always in your space Early birds in every nest Leaves you feeling so depressed Sick to death of yellow lines Knackered meters, instant fines Gripe and bitch, scratch that itch Have a proper whine Togs all in, rinse and spin Watch the world go round and Bleary-eyed, tumble-dried Feel the heat inside and Lift the load, ironing-board Let the steam push through and Fold the skirt, hang that shirt Scratch that itch once more Going up is coming down Flattest crowd in all the town Faceless farts on every floor Hit the button, close the door Sick to death of splitting hairs Half-baked bollocks, manic glares Moan and bitch, scratch that itch Next time take the stairs Do some good, scrape a spud Soon the lids are rattling Piles of greens, butterbeans Yorkshire pud and crackling Nice and hot, hits the spot Happy as a dumpling Cut the crap, lift that pap Scratch that itch away
4.
Rough Close 04:04
A day like all the rest is O so humdrum It nails your monkey-boots and weighs half a ton The mugs around you all look glummer than glum So keep your dander down and bugger the fun Away - away away O! Grumbly chunterers are so morose Library books and weirdos Down in the dumps on Rough Close The charm of ignorance is O so intense Arses and elbows look the same to bedpans The concrete's greener on this side of the fence So stop your bickering and crack a few cans Away - away away O! Ramp up the volume without remorse Silly hats and dayglo It's partytime on Rough Close The taste of aniseed is O so silky The yell of anarchy is such a delight Tom Cobley slaps you like an icecold squeegee So raise your poison now: let's brighten the night Away - away away O! A glass of water is way off course Chocolate cake and Pernod Everyone's whacked on Rough Close
5.
Agent Fifi 03:36
Self is the man when dealing with social types Who gives a monkey's what anybody thinks? Stay on the lookout when circumstances are ripe You'll be surprised what sneaks through between drinks Fifi say: Bad boy, you're such a sad boy Can't see the heartache you leave in your wake Instead of slighting, reckless backbiting Why don't you stop, keep your trap shut? That's all it takes You've heard it once, you'll probably hear it twice Nothing unusual in everyday crack Slip of the tongue's a slide into paradise You'll be surprised what glides on through the flak Fifi say: Bad girl, not such a glad girl Can't see the damage you do with your rage Instead of rantings and green-eyed tantrums Why don't you stop, pick up your things and act your age? Ear to the ground when part of the audience Nothing too silent, nothing too loud They say that numbers give people confidence You'll be surprised what comes out in a crowd Fifi say: Bad town, you're such a mad town Nothing but nutters wherever you go Instead of caring, they're all rampaging Ripping up borders and breaking windows There goes a closeshave inside a shockwave Next comes the toxic grim cabaret Soon there'll be beatings, annihilations Everyone stop! Agent Fifi is on her way
6.
Sometimes the night won't lift itself out of the grave It stays as flat as an old worn-out tape All sparkle gone, doused with aftershave A plastic bag ripped right out of shape So where's the one who promises the moon tonight The very one who'll open up the sky? So where's the one who has enjoyment in his sights The only one who'll leave you glassy-eyed? Now and again the unexpected mooches in Holding a case of rapture in his hands Darkness dissolves - moonshine the medicine Stirring up smiles, the flame inside expands Here comes the one who can lift the baboon off your back The very one who can make the reindeer laugh Here comes the one who can turn the tightest muscle slack The only one who can fake the polygraph King of the swing Big ting-a-ling No daydreaming He's so inspiring Well, now the walls are swaying in a stream of bliss The bricks all loose, bouncing with the heat Who gives a damn? Tied up with happiness A conga-line weaving down the street Yes, he's the one who puts the grin back on your face The very one who wipes away despair Yes, he's the one who widdles in the fireplace The only one who's tumbling down the stairs King of the swing Big ting-a-ling No daydreaming So inspiring
7.
Red Tape 04:34
Leaner times are laid out on the way ahead One more notch should tighten up the belt Starchy bread, hold back on the nutty spread Rod of iron to give the heels a jolt There are ways to get around the barriers Credit card will loosen up the flow Lovely home with redesigned interiors Rumpus room all wireless tech decor With the gloves off, nothing so fine Stuff that stops you drifting backwards Tied with red tape, life's a straight line Leaves you feeling: Rolling backwards Day by day, you put a little bit away Honeypot to make a dream come true Holiday sprawled out in Montego Bay Rum and coke washed down with Special Brew Counting fingers in the big trough Things won't add up, no more rewards Strapped with red tape, life's a write-off Leaves you feeling: Sliding downwards Saturday night: usual show, right off your face Lottery to make your hopes survive One by one, the numbers will fall into place So much joy, it's great to be alive Come the morning, nothing so grand Eyes wide open, face to floorboards Bound with red tape, life's a dead-end Leaves you feeling: No more onwards Cards all torn up by the big drop Things stay broken, elbows threadbare Wrapped in red tape, life's a full-stop Leaves you feeling: Going nowhere
8.
What a life: in motion but not moving Need to liven up those feet of clay Touch and go with systems all responding Tablet helps to keep the blues away Good connections generate potential A brandnew love is just a swipe away Hopeful faces, details confidential Loneliness dissolves as digits play Rule of thumb: the cage is empty, all the mates have gone Keeping mum: no-one listening, why are you rabbiting on? Hold your tongue: well, jibjab jibberjabber jibjab jibberjabber jibjab Before the dawn, the chorus is alive-O Twittering twats with next to nowt to say Following one another through the typos Making a hash of rumours through the day Rule of thumb: the tree is empty, all the birds have gone Keeping mum: no-one listening, why are you warbling on? Hold your tongue: well, jibjab jibberjabber jibjab jibberjabber jibjab A room so smart, it reads every intention Blowing your nose before you start to cough Now and again it needs so much attention The smartest thing to do is turn it off Rule of thumb: the screens are empty, all the lights have gone Keeping mum: no-one listening, why are you babbling on Hold your tongue: well, jibjab jibberjabber jibjab jibberjabber jibjab Rule of thumb: the room is empty, all the kit has gone Keeping mum: no-one listening, why are you going on Up your bum: well, jibjab jibberjabber jibjab jibberjabber jibjab Enough!
9.
Sod's Law 04:50
Another day, another chance to thrive Maybe today the better times arrive Yes, on this day we'll hit the road and drive You can't predict the way things go So take the day and see how things turn out There'll be mistakes and that's no pack of lies Without mistakes the world holds no surprise Just one mistake can make emotions rise You can't resist the ebb and flow So make mistakes and see how things turn out Unforeseen can bring you down Nightmare in a dressing-gown Load of crap right out the blue Might just be the death of you Sometimes rattled, sometimes calm Sometimes bowling underarm Tangents are the trend, me friend Off at angles without end Angry louts from outerspace Waving rayguns in your face Tricks you see when off your tree Tweedledum and Tweedledee U-turn round every bend A U-bend in every turn Cookie-crumbling stuff, old son What's the problem? Bring it on So take a chance, you never know how long Without a chance, the stuff that counts won't come Take just one chance and pray the wheels stay on You can’t predict the way things go So why resist the ebb and flow? Just take a chance, it might not end tits-up

about

Everyday songs about coping with everyday things.

credits

released May 1, 2015

All tracks written, arranged and played by THE SPECTRAL PRiDE.
Recorded, mixed and mastered by The Knobster at The Bunker.
Produced by Mr Reindeer.
Artwork: Frank Blunt.

© & ℗ 2015 Bollockbrain Productions; released here under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-commerical Share Alike licence.

A Genuine Bollockbrain Product.

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THE SPECTRAL PRiDE Hornsea

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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