1. |
The Capital
03:19
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Nine to five i grind my head on my desk, i remember the grit of the coffee stained keys.
I was not a scientist only mortal and meek but i found a cure for the plague, a cure for the week.
Oh lord, we've gotta burn the capital now.
My desk is a horse and it has no reins. My boss in the corner where i'd bashed in his brains. I swivelled around in my chair to head for the door but i spun around and commanded everyone to the floor.
Oh lord, we've gotta bur the capital now.
Paper spits from copiers as the walls coming crumbling down and the office folk, clamber under their desks.
We gotta burn the capital now, we gotta burn the capital down.
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2. |
Epiphany Blues
06:10
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Things got off on the right foot, all according to plan. A rearing fit for the screen, three square and threads on his back.
Most friends got girls and wives, knocked up and locked in for life.
He realised that it seems that making honest may not be the truth and where did the dreams go, were there even any at all.
Work was getting the better of him and prospects wearing pretty thin. So thy poured a bottle down his throat and said there ain't no other way through.
Standing there he saw himself, in filth without a cause. His mind wandering to times long gone and his gifts pissed up on the wall.
Most days are wasted until the night and the only cares for anything are barely there, or slight. He realised that it seems that making honest may not be the truth and where did the dreams go, were there even any at all.
It seems mystery is now spoken for, he paid his tab and shrugged off the rest. Slid on his jacket, pushed out the stall leaving the swill to spill away. Popped up his collar and took his first step to into the light.
The door was left swinging there. In the hole with the crooked walls.
The dream was not in there, there was no light there.
Where did the dreams go and were there even any at all.
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3. |
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I think it had been a while since anything had been done about doing good. That a good deed must be done for someone else.
Sitting all alone with the lights off.
Thinking of the world and how i was wasting all of my time wishing my foes to be sick or die. About now i'd knock off work and head for town, piss my money only foolin around.
The dreams I'd had were going wrong, i'd been in that room for so long. Not ever knowing if its day or night, all that mattered was that the bottle was right, sitting all alone with the lights off.
I would search for words and only truth, my tongue the sleuth in the rotten tooth. Thunder did strike, wind did blow my dog is sitting by a man on death row, sitting all alone with the lights off.
Rocking in the this chair until my grave cause my baby knows i can't be saved, sitting all alone with the lights off.
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GARRETT R. COOPER Adelaide, Australia
Songs written and recorded as abruptly as possible between 2009 and 2016.
All music now written and released under the name MULE
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