Stibbington

by idiot son

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1.
Jenny in the fast lane Got it in her head to qualify Says “You don’t know until you try” Got herself a house then Bought herself an independent life Had enough, took his shirt, cut the tie Honey, I can’t save you Couldn’t if I had to You’re not the saving kind Didn’t want to wake you Guess I’ll have to make do With holding off of my settling down desire Hold the engines, where’s the fire? Jennifer’s in heat again Found herself another victim Says “They don’t hurt until they cry” Lost herself a good man Found him too restricting, yeah Had enough, took his shirt, cut the tie Honey, I can’t save you Couldn’t if I had to You’re not the saving kind Didn’t want to wake you Guess I’ll have to make do With holding off of my settling down desire Hold the engines, where’s the fire?
2.
What you get is what you see The whole and the heart of me I wear it on my sleeve Just below You Right above for Me Just below You Right above for Me I hope I spelt your name like you like it to It’s the one you borrowed from the somebody who … They meant a lot back then like a lot of Men do Until they screw you up, like a lot of Men do Like a lot of Men do What you give he gets for free It’s leaving you incomplete You wear him like a bruise The greater the hurt the more you apply … the pressure he leaves you feeling inside I hope he spells your name like you like it to It’s the one you borrowed from the somebody who They meant a lot back then like a lot of Men do Until they screw you up, like a lot of Men do Like a lot of Men do This time she said “You’ve gone too far, If only from the here to there. It’s not the distance that you cover it’s what you discover when you get there” I hope I spelt your name like you like it to It’s the one you borrowed from the somebody who They meant a lot back then like a lot of Men do Until they screw you up, like a lot of Men do Like a lot of Men do
3.
06:00
You poor long suffering, Godsend The happiness you bring What did you ever see in me? And all that I’ve achieved Has been We could just say “We do” Maybe throw in our lot If it ain’t broke we could endeavour to tie the knot. Would you be the truss for my aching back? Would you be there when my defences crack? Leave my body wrecked, mind intact Could you take my shit? Could you handle that? Would you laugh along when I call her name? And I look so happy don’t feel so ashamed Would you be there down to my one last breath? If I asked it of you Baby would you love me to death? Baby could you love me? So what if she’s happy So what if he’s sore And her eyes no more delight in tales he’s told before Don’t take for granted, take for granted It’s no granted taken thing Dear Lord confess, he gave her less than everything Than everything
4.
04:14
I’m not thinking of her She’s not thinking of me now, intentionally anyhow. I’ve been thinking out loud Never learnt to button my mouth So I hold my tongue and cut it out She said “You don’t get it” I can see what’s coming around, dancing through hoops with the clowns I’ll be getting my coat, packing my bags and leaving for Gibsonton She’s not thinking of me In a way I’d like her to Supposing it will have to do that she’s got me in mind Out of sight but in the firing line When she’s sniping she can bide her time She said “You’ll regret it” I can see her reasons are sound Running the Merry-go-Round I’ll be getting my coat, packing my bags and leaving for Gibsonton I’m not thinking of her She’s not thinking of me now, intentionally anyhow. I’ve been thinking out loud Never learnt to button my mouth So I hold my tongue and cut it out She said “You’re pathetic” I can see what’s coming around, dancing through hoops with the clowns I’ll be getting my coat, packing my bags and leaving for Gibsonton Hey Lobstergirl You’re wearing it well Do you mind if I join you? I’m coming home, the greasepaint is off My foot to the floor I’ll drive till I rust Or damn bust.
5.
Last in the line First to admit that’s fine My demon seed, out of the creche and on the leash Stinging damn rope-burns, skinning our knees Shaking down the apple trees Or none of these Sin or celebration? Where there’s a will there’s a fight Better still I think that I just might leave it all Down at the Mission Hall Down at the Mission Hall Last of the lot Family tree, unfamiliar plot My demon sleeps under the covers Wrapped in the sheets, hiding from ghosts And shadows that creep across the floor While you’re asleep, the shadows creep Sin or celebration? Where there’s a will there’s a fight Better still I think that I just might leave it all Down at the Mission Hall Down at the Mission Hall
6.
05:25
Thought I saw the World melting Thought that I was on something It was just the moonlight pouring in On my window frame with the dust and dirt engrained Still they’re keeping out the rain that I’m not drowning in I’ve been HeadSwimming Thought I heard the World breathing Thought that I was on to something It was just a mood I’d gotten in On my window frame where the dust and dead flies reign See them debating just what I’ll be rating when my ship is coming in I’ve been HeadSwimming
7.
There’s Pinheads in the street There’s needles in the alley A bottle on the path The bottlebank is empty There’s static in the air There’s music from the window I think you call it that It’s nothing that I would know We give it half a chance and then say “They should know better” And laugh a little longer and hold each other closer Than we were ever comfortable with … Living here Kinda makes the world go around Kinda makes the world seem sounder When we close the door Looking further out from the inside Kinda makes the world go away Kinda makes the world a better place To stay with you And I’ll stay with you If only to the end of my days
8.
We were fine until I said that You were eating out of my lap I held my nerve, you dropped me in, saying “Come sleep with me, Come sleep with me, my perfect 10” A happy ending A happy ending I held my nerve Amen Amen

credits

released October 21, 2016

idiot son are:
Jonathan Brigden
Bob Broadley
Mark Lloyd
Andrew Thompson

with:
Andrew Gray - Trumpet
Carl Raven - Saxophone
Chris Taylor - Bass
Emma Blanco - Violin
Geoff Baxter - Trombone
Jo Silverston - Cello
Kate Conway - Violin
Lindsay Kempley - French Horn
Rob Spriggs - Viola
Ruth Gottlieb - Violin, additional Vocal

Engineered and Produced by Tom Aitkenhead at Milk Studios
Mastered by Adrian Emsley
Artwork by Thompson and Kirsa Wilkenschildt

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idiot son England, UK

Not that the idiot son adventure has been a short hop, any rainy day bus ride to Bognor Regis. Formed at the turn of the last century, Stibbington has been a decade long journey from its shabby conception under a railway arch off of the Holloway Road. Consequently there has been plenty time to ingest, chew, swallow and expunge. Gallows humour, life, death and the bit inbetween. ... more

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