1. |
Yarnbomber
03:19
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I was walking, I was in the city,
I was feelin’ kind of grey.
I saw something
That brightened up my day.
‘Twas a statue of Queen Victoria,
She was looking cosy and cool.
Somebody gave her crown and sceptre
Made outta wool.
Lampposts in legwarmers,
Fire Hydrants in socks,
Bike racks in cardigans,
Sculpted luminaries in macraméd jocks.
Knitting Nancy & Spinning Jenny,
They’re at it all o’ the time,
Those Needle Ninjas,
Those Robin Hoods of twine.
Lampposts in legwarmers,
Fire Hydrants in socks,
Bike racks in cardigans,
Sculpted luminaries in macraméd jocks.
Water cooler cosies,
Vases with vests,
Letterboxes with ladders in their stockings
It’s a Woolly Bully handicraft fest.
Knit one, pearl one,
Cast off, cast on,
Cover up the boring and the cast i-ron.
Yarnbomber, yarnbomber
Where there’s a wool there’s a way.
Yarnbomber, thanks for doing what you do.
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2. |
Cannibal
04:41
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Tell me what reduces you
Just put it in my ear.
I’ll mix you to a fine paste
And keep you for a year
On my shelf.
Oh, it’s not healthy but it pleases me.
Tell me how to get your goat
I’ll chase it round the field.
Let me put my kid gloves on
And get my daily yield
Keep it for myself.
Won’t make me wealthy but it pleases me.
I’ll roll you up in carpet
And polish off your shoes.
I’ve got three cousins, all twenty,
And they all sing the blues
By themselves.
Oh it pleases me.
Oh, let me keep you in a jar.
I’ll let you out sometimes but you won’t get far away
I’ve got so many different ways to make you stay
I’ll lose you in the buckwheat
We’ll go against the grain.
I’ll eat up all your sweetmeats
And by that I mean your brain
Speaks for itself.
Oh, it pleases me
I like a bit of chicken,
I like a bit of cheese.
You’ve had me on my elbows
I’ll bring you to your knees
With my mouth.
Oh, the mouth on me.
Oh, let me keep you in a jar.
I’ll let you out sometimes but you won’t get far away
I’ve got some caramel suede shoes to make you stay
Tell me what reduces you
Just put it in my ear.
I’ll mix you to a fine paste
And keep you for a year
On my shelf.
Oh, it’s not healthy but it pleases me.
I like a bit of chicken,
I like a bit of fish.
Climb inside my dreamboat,
I’ll hop into your dish,
We’ll sail south.
Oh, the salty seas.
Oh, let me keep you in a jar.
I’ll let you out sometimes but you won’t get far away
I’ve got some midnight mystery clues to make you stay
Oh, let me keep you in a jar.
I’ll let you out sometimes but you won’t get far away
I’ve got so many different ways to make you stay
I’ve got some whisky water blues to make you stay
There’s girls just like me trying to catch you every day
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3. |
Bike Song
04:45
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Well, it ain't seemed to be
That I could pedal backwards, me
Between the gate and here
There's a point where you're free
It sits between points A and B
I get my stuff and fix my gear
And I ride down the street
I'm diving for a memory
And swooping with the birds in the park
And a graze of the knees
And the hush that hisses through the trees
And riding home in the dark
With her lights flashing me
I'll come clean, I dazzled easily
The candela were ample
The crank was cranking lazily
She was sitting the saddle cheekily
Thought I'd follow her example
Building your own steam
Ride in her slipstream
The faster you go round
The less you can slow down
Well it now seems to me
That you can pedal where you need
You're the head in your own state
There's a point when you're free
It sits between points A and B
Between here and the gate
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4. |
My Inner Muse
03:48
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My Inner Muse is a fickle bitch,
I sometimes wonder if she's mine
I have to roll her lots of funny cigarettes,
I have to ply her with wine
Just to get her to talk to me,
Otherwise she's just not there
Sometimes I find her truly inspirational
But usually her slate is bare
My Inner Muse is a fickle bitch,
At her best she's something to astound
I said I'll C U Next Tuesday night
But she didn't even come around
I was standing there with my guitar,
Letting all my bandmates down
I shrugged and tried to smile sheepishly
But all the others wore a frown
Why's it so hard to get a word out, edgeways, straight up, upside down
Why does she treat me like a clown?
If I could just hold her, could control her under my thumb I could stand up tall
How can I make her answer to my beck and call?
My Inner Muse is a fickle bitch,
I somehow gotta render her tame
I need to scratch my creative itch
And I'm sick and tired of her games
I need to get inside myself
But she's locked my head and stolen the key
Even tho' we could be good together
She prefers to keep me on my knees
Why's it so hard to get a word out, edgeways, straight up, upside down
Why does she treat me like a clown?
If I could just hold her, could control her under my thumb I could stand up tall
How can I make her answer to my beck and call?
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Peter Dickybird Melbourne, Australia
"...indie pop so unique it is like sighting a rare Red Goshawk through a set of binoculars." Beat Magazine.
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