Made one promise too many, but I can’t break my word. ‘tween a rock an’a hard place, take a ride to Tyburn. Gotta pick up a package, after the Sun’s gone down. Racin’ with the Devil, give Him the runaround. Burnin’ rubber, eatin’ miles, flat out straight round the bend. I don’t know, even if this, tiger ride will end. Five hours ’round Midnight. Five hours to go, five hours on the road. Pedal to the metal, wind and rain lashin’ hard, stay tight ‘n’ frosty, don’t drop your guard. Hear the midnight bells chime, through the blackness of night. Can’t stop, won’t slowdown, keep on drivin’ for daylight. Five hours ’round Midnight. Five hours to go, five hours till home. Longest way around is the shortest way home. No mistakes, no backtrackin’ – give that dog a bone! Watch the new day breakin’ to take a victory lap. There ain’t no winners but at least I shook the Devil off my back. Burnin’ rubber, eatin’ miles, flat out straight round the bend. I don’t know, even if this, tiger ride will end. Five hours ’round Midnight. Five hours to go, five hours on the road. ©25.3.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman

If you knew from day one how the odds were stacked, you would not play their games. Changing the rules on a whim, on a fad, laughin’ at us chasin’ our tails. You can’t get ahead, get an even break: you’re doomed to fail and lose! It’s an elite club, an’ we aint in it: there’s no room for us vulgar* rubes. Got us waitin’ for: Dead man’s shoes. We’re hopin’ for: Dead man’s shoes. They send you to school, before you can talk! Wrenched away from love ‘n’ home. Planted a tiny seed, a chokin’ weed, to strangle brain and soul. The more you learn, the less you know, another useless brick in their wall! Handshake their way to the top, but don’t know when to stop, they won’t be happy till they’ve got it all! Still we’re waitin’ for: Dead man’s shoes. A lifetime for: Dead man’s shoes. Like lifeless, scaley reptiles, like vampires of ages old. Suckin’ the blood from all around them, their hearts and souls cold. I cannot tell a lie, life is an endless trial, unless you-are King or Pope. You were born to lose, not even dead men’s shoes, you have no future. No hope! Slave onna minimum wage, your pent-up rage is numbed with legal dope. But when the reckonin’ comes, the boys and their chums will swing from a hangman’s rope. We’re plannin’ on: Dead man’s shoes. We’re countin’ the: Dead man’s shoes. ©3.4.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman * vulgar: Non-illuminati

A clock tower strikes thirteen, where a church used to stand. Since the slaughter of the Holy Wars, religion has been banned. Against gender-crime, it was decreed: all the sexes are the same. A dreary sea of dungarees address each other “Heil Comrade”. When your offspring love and serve, the deep State. When you can’t find the words to, communicate. You’re ordered when and where to, express your hate. Welcome to the nightmare, we’re just running somewhat late: 1984 (Welcome to) 1984 (Welcome to) 1984 (Welcome to) 1984 Educated to know nothing, heads full of sanctioned news. No one dare contradict our dear leader’s views. Sweet dystopia! Double-plus good! Eternal war against “terror”. Uniparty keepin’ dumb proles safe, the perfect blameless oppressor. When you daren’t talk to strangers, in the room. When your children spy and report, your every move. When you’ve literally nothing, left to lose. Welcome to the nightmare, we’re just a little overdue. 1984 (Welcome to) 1984 (Welcome to) 1984 1984 When laws defend the lawless, plutocrats. Corporations control free speech, in point of fact: life’s dictated by the dead hand, of the past. Welcome to the nightmare, the New World Order, at last! ©23.9.2015 Andrew Robert Chapman

Drivin’ hard – day and night. Out of my mind, out of sight. They want my ass – dead or alive! I ain’t goin’ down – without a fight. Got Gold. Got guns. Beer, bullets an’ a truck full o’ fun! I’m out in the Badlands. Got guns. Got Gold. A slim momma with a tight ass-o! We’re out in the Badlands. Way out in the Badlands. Bidin’ time – kickin’ cans, ’round ‘n’ ’round circlin’ the pan. When this shitstorm hits the fan? Activate my masterplan! Get guns. Get Gold. A fast chopper an’ an open road! Head out to the Badlands. BREAK Head out to the Badlands. Way out in the Badlands. Deep down in the Badlands. Good times in the Badlands. ©12.6.2018 Andrew Robert Chapman

Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war! No one is innocent! Kill ’em all! Figureheads, breakin’ bread, with Babylon’s whore. The Gods weep, like dumb sheep the goyim fall. Hang out our banners, on the outer walls. Bloodthirsty brothers (kiss). Kiss my sword. Hold the line! Have no fear! No remorse. So shall we, ever be, with our Lord. Once more, unto the breach, dear friends once more. Cannons spit fire furious, hear Hell’s wrath roar. Hades waits, by the Styx, Cerberus calls. Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war! Run with the dogs, run with the hounds. We’re going to war! (goin’ to war) :||4 Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war! ©5.6.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman

They hate us for our freedoms so “PatriAct”* them all away. Watch you four-and-twenty seven, censor the words you say. Our border like a lobster trap, invites but don’t set free. Pauperise your lifestyle: worthless fiat ain’t money. Your real-estate you claim you own, you rent with yearly tithe. We poke both Bear an’ Dragon keepin’ our war machine alive. To blind your eyes to all this sin, free bread and circuses. Those cursed to see the dire truth, labelled conspirisist**. Years of planning, decades of schemes, while you were sleepin’ they killed – democracy. To take apart. To take apart: Your American dream. To take apart. To take apart: Your American dream. You make it easy for your “Masters” to mete out A lifelong whippin’. You break your back for pennies and volunteer for chippin’! Chat away to list’nin’ bugs words analysed and saved. The latest gadgets you had to have. Yes, you even fuckin’ paid! Their fear of learned scholars means they have to kill young minds: Dumbed-down schools don’t educate but hey! no one’s left behind. Bind citizens with invisible chains: debt, religion and laws. Preoccupied with kids and life, no time for errant thought. Years of planning, decades of schemes, while you were sleepin’ they killed – democracy. CHORUS Those brave black sheep who broke the pen, who unplugged from the matrix, are too few and too far between to offer stiff resistance. Like a corny Hollywood film, an evil Empire grows, prayin’ for Luke, V or Neo, watchin’ the psycho-show. Unfold. The few voices which dissented, were silenced out of hand; for your “safety”, for “democracy”! For this dys-to-pian land. Weren’t you promised a paradise? Lullalied*** into deep sleep, you piss away your precious life, (you’re) herded worse than sheep. PRE-CHORUS CHORUS ©11.9.2019 Andrew Robert Chapman *artistic contraction of “Patriot Act” **made up word for conspirator. ***made up word based on lullabies but incorporating lied (as in untruth)

Pastime with good company I love and shall until I die. Gruch who lust, but none deny; So God be pleased, thus live will I; For my pastance, hunt sing and dance; My heart is set. All goodly sport, for my comfort: Who shall me let? Youth must have some dalliance, Of good or illé some pastance; Company methinks then best All thoughts and fancies to dejest: For idleness Is chief mistress Of vices all. Then who can say But mirth and play Is best of all? Company with honesty; Is virtue, vices to flee. Company is good and ill, but every man hath his free will. The best ensue, the worst eschew. My mind shall be; Virtue to use, vice to refuse, thus shall I use me. First recorded: 8th October 2022

The heavy hand of the long arm, a pinch away from Dredd, cast a blind eye toward the baby rapes, “the law” and crime in bed. As the masses cheer in their circuses, minitrue warp reality. Is this what your forefathers fought and died for? Is this democracy? A thin blue line was crossed today. Remember, remember our last hooray. God save! God save! God save our Tommy! Slowly, slowly like a frog bein’ boiled, laws change by hook or crook, no-one seems to be paying attention, to nanny State’s jackboot. Now in plain sight for the blindest eyes, our Nation woke an’ bust! A breach of the peace sparks a civil war, dry powder and God we trust. PRE-CHORUS CHORUS To the Quislings and appeasers, to you traitors and false Caesars: You’ve sown the seeds. Let contempt breed. Now reap the whirlwind you deserve: no mercy, no quarter from we serfs. White tax mules breaking their brittle backs, ripe for the knacker’s yard, they’ve turned our young men into soy boys, our daughters raped and scarred. The po-lice armed and dangerous, won’t bite the hand that feeds. But justice is ours and bulletproof, it’s time for the streets to bleed. PRE-CHORUS CHORUS :|| ©28.5.2018 Andrew Robert Chapman

I* scoff at your Gods and your beliefs: look at the bloodshed they have caused! The pain, the suff’rin’, the butcherin’ of righteous religious wars! In the name of peace, in the name of love: convert or burn in Hell! Tortures, slaughters, power and control. Money-grabbin’ paedophile cartel(s). Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. :||4 All high and mighty preachin’ pious hate from Bethels built of blood. Pompous rituals right in the face of the boundless starving poor. An obedient flock, good little sheep, all useless brain-dead breeders. Say your prayers, defend the Faith and exalt your “God given” leaders. CHORUS Beggin’ copper coins from the destitute: from cradle to final breath. Golden coffers brimmin’ ill-gotten gains: drivin’ the wheels of war and death. The struggling masses livin’ hand to mouth; bright futures far from certain. The suffering masses their empty hands add a further well-planned burden. Worship, prayers or mass, Gods cruelly laugh at the prole’s adversity. Same as it ever was: Satanic-sin under the name of diversity. Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (Keep ’em locked in chains.) Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (Feed ’em shit ‘n’ hate.) Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (Charge for the air they breathe.) Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (Faith, hope ‘n’ charity.) Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (make ’em beg an’ crawl) Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor. (kick ’em in the balls!) ©29.12.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman

This time it’s diff’rent, this time’s for real. Puppy come-to-bed eyes, betray what you feel. Ain’t no lookin’ back, ain’t no turnin’ ’round. Swept off your feet, caught onna rebound. But I am unworthy, I am not who you seek. I can see where we’re headin’, and the havoc I’ll wreak. I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you. I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you. I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] If it’s the last thing I do. I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you. The first cut’s the deepest, the last cut’s for you. Scars on my heart bleedin’ out deja vu. Gotta take care of me, in this mean world of hurt. Gonna keep my distance, stop myself gettin’ burnt. I am so unworthy, I am not the “right one”. And baby you’ll thank me, when I am gone. CHORUS Just one more time – then I’m gonna go. : Just one more time – then I’m gonna go. Sweetheart come hee-a (here), honey/sugar let’s talk. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, by a long chalk. But the truth of the matter is, my life’s a lie ‘n’ I can’t change my ways, so don’t make me try! PRE-CHORUS CHORUS but it’s so hard to do. ©31.7.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman

Current lyrics can always be found at: https://wp.me/P18N27-2v2 Liberty “If liberty means anything at all, it is the right to say what others do not want to hear…” Here – in the dark – I can see. Feel – the fourth turning – misery. Smell – naked fear – take a knee. Blind – deaf an’ dumb – I can’t breathe. The time is nigh to catch the tide. Watch ’em run an’ watch ’em hide. Our Liberty. Fools – in the herd – hate on me. Slaves – born in chains – shout they’re free: Cheer – fascist crime – tyranny. Choke – truth an’ speech – well cancel me! PRE-CHORUS CHORUS Hungry wolves knockin’ at the door: cold outside, sheep inside: Form a queue, wait in line: ev’rythin’ will be fine. (mwahhhhh). Dumb – the hive mind – all agree. Obey! Dictat(wh)Or(e)s – to “save granny”. Faith – do not fear – hear God’s plea: Save – your pure soul – humanity. The time is nigh to catch the tide. They can run but they can’t hide. CHORUS ©29.12.2020 Andrew Robert Chapman

Current lyrics can always be found here: https://wp.me/P18N27-1D0 You’ve had way too little sleep, got too much on your mind, drag yourself up out of bed to start another daily grind. At this ungodly hour you’d think no-one would be around, but the roads are full of traffic – all city bound. Each tiny, shiny box traps a tired tormented soul, most sit like lifeless zombies, some rage out of control. After one hour’s isolation you toil/slave another eight with strangers whom you dislike while the State steals half your pay! Your iso-cube awaiting for the rush hour crawl back home, exhausted you arrive but you never felt so alone. Your wife and kids estranged and demanding ever more, got you drowning deep in debt but no-one cares at all. Too late again for dinner, so you share it with the dog, and you almost feel like cryin’, what the fuckin’ hell went wrong!? Your kids glued to their “smart” phones, are dumbed-down brain dead fools, and, though you love ’em dearly, none of them look like you (cuckoo). Your-wife greets you with a grunt, it’s all downhill from there: Can’t do no right for wrong, and if you did she wouldn’t care. The girl you married long gone, with her the fun and games, no more love letters just reminders of bills that must be paid. Pale and gaunt your face reflecting how many years you’ve still to graft, will your pittance of a pension pay off your overdraft? All those wasted years behind you, how unjust your life unfurled. Kinda ironic when you think back how you were going ta ‘change the world’. On TeeVee a horde of protesters, well-dressed and time to spare, decry their wretched dilemma, demand free shit! It’s-only fair! Politicians you didn’t vote for, rush to remove your rights: Time to end your life of Riley ‘cos you’re privileged and white. ©30.10.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman

Current lyrics can always be found at: https://wp.me/P18N27-2wg Down payment blues, payday loan fool! Busted ma balls workin’ hard at “old school”. Well ain’t life cruel? Pokin’ around, see what I found! A gold sov’reign in a five cent town. Can’t keep me down. Made my own luck, dash of moonstruck. I hear the Lady doth protest too much … Back up the truck, boys. It’s party time! All on my dime. A fashion victim aint a victimless crime, can’t buy my style! Make it worth your while at the: {Casino} Let it ride! {Casino} Luck’s on my side. {Casino} Ace’s high. {Casino} Snake eyes! I’ll scratch your back, there’s jus’ one catch: I need a plan to get me back in black! ‘n’some high-class snatch. A loaded die, a winkin’ eye, a black garter an’ a tattooed thigh, style has it’s price! Flick of the switch, richer than rich! Rock ‘n’ Rolls Royce with a seven year itch. Ain’t life a bitch? Cheap cigarette, cold, cold sweat, my bottom dollar rides a no-show bet. Deeper in debt … … that’s what you get at the: {Casino} Snake eyes! {Casino} Bled me white. {Casino} I ain’t cryin’. {Casino} Just one more try! Sin city … Monaco. The stakes are high, aces low. The house is calling: “No more bets!” Roulette wheel spinnin’, … she’s spinnin’ … ’round ‘n’ ’round she goes … .. in the casino … … easy come, easy go … ©22.1.2021 Andrew Robert Chapman

Lyrics can be found here: https://wp.me/P18N27-1ht Greensleeves Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously. For I have loved you well and long, delighting in your company. Your vows you’ve broken, like my heart, Oh, why did you so enrapture me? Now I remain in a world apart, for my heart remains in captivity. Greensleeves was all my joy Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, no one but my Lady Greensleeves. My men they were all clothed in green, and they did ever wait on thee; All this was gallant to be seen, and yet thou wouldst not love me. CHORUS BREAK I have been ready at your hand, to grant whatever you would crave, I have both wagered life and land, your love and good-will for to have. Well, I will pray to God on high, that thou my constancy mayst see, For I am still thy lover true. Come once again and love me. CHORUS Folk / Traditional – Henry VIII Tudor