THE ROTTED LYRICS

1. Nothin' But A Nosebleed

When it all comes crashing down there’s
Nothing but a nosebleed

Another ugly night, another lost fight
Another time I’m scared I’ll lose my sight
Filled with foreboding senses of dread
About tomorrow feeling like pure death
Frittering my existence on senseless schemes
Reaching toward unattainable dreams
A sense of unity and false self-worth
Before we come crashing back down to Earth

We’re gonna change the state of this land,
We’re gonna form a million bands,
But all we got to show for ourselves is
Nothing but a nosebleed
We’re gonna turn all the wrongs to rights
We’ll make this place a paradise
But when it all comes crashing down there’s
Nothing but a nosebleed

How can I sit here talking crap,
With this seedy and rather sordid chap!?
I just met the guy but he’s my best mate,
And it all comes down to the sorry state
That we’ve got ourselves into again,
Free gifts from a stranger, fuck our friends.
For now we’ll talk of elaborate schemes
Gibberish trite and mere pipe dreams

We’re gonna change the state of this land,
We’re gonna form a million bands,
But all we got to show for ourselves is
Nothing but a nosebleed
We’re gonna turn all the wrongs to rights
We’ll make this place a paradise
But when it all comes crashing down there’s
Nothing but a nosebleed

2. The Howling

Woke up naked in the park
No recollection of where I go after dark
But when the moon is full I change my form
Bringing chaos and terror, whipping up a storm
Hurling abuse at passers by
They freeze with fear by my very sight
I’m Dr. Jekyll, I’m Mr. Hyde
I wet myself like an infant child

I am the howling
I am the howling
I am the howling
I’m fucking howling

Indiscriminate of friend and stranger
My frenzied rage brings hellish danger
They tried to curb my wretched soul
They locked me up, issued an ASBO
But I’m the monster that can’t be tamed
An untamed beast with no restraint
A booze-fuelled demon rising after dark
Who wakes up naked in Hyde Park

I am the howling
I am the howling
I am the howling
I’m fucking howling

Caged for hours like a rabid dog empowered
Awoken from my slumber, I’m just a name and number

3. A Return To Insolence

Here we are again
Only this time we got something to say
Crawling back under our rock to survive
Facing the reality of a constant fight

It’s a return to insolence
Another victory for common sense
Blind to these values being forced down our throats
Disillusioned minds in an empty world
It’s a return to insolence
Another victory for common sense
Turning our backs on a world of disgust
Psychotic reactions and a life of distrust

As the righteous repent
A dying nation still digs it’s own grave
All around panic fills the air
Mass hysteria, total despair
Preparing for the next life
A feeble glimmer of hope in their eyes

Crying out to an uncaring force
While we prepare ourselves
For what we’ve known all along

4. Kissing You With My Fists

I sit and stare
Haven’t got a prayer
Anticipating a future filled with despair
Deep underground
Amongst the crowd
A hateful venom of which I am proud
Kissing you with my fists
Spurred on by these sounds
Composure found
By these restraints no longer am I bound
Like those before
Also implored
To eradicate those that they too abhor
Kissing you with my fists

This urge to fight within me starts to spread
Subliminal messages infect my head
Songs of Weeping and The Hamburger Lady
And Myra Hindley and Ian Brady
Throbbing Gristle will make me assault mankind
An audio weapon, a hate intensified

It’s them
To blame
Not me
Kissing you with my fists
Amongst the crowd
On London’s Underground
Listening still, I sit and stare them out
Pulling to my stop
This is where I get off
Leaving behind my fantasy of those who get the chop
Kissing you with my fists

5. Angel Of Meth

Stripped and deluded, a pitiful site
Wind cuts the flesh beginning our flight
Yearned immortality the world hurtles by
Braving the elements reaching the sky
Shapeless voids, givers of light
A time once enjoyed the world hurtles by
With the audacity to mourn this untimely death
Broken and ruined, I’m the Angel Of Meth

Breathing a strain with this weight on my chest
Can stifle a gasp or a murmur at best
The Devil’s inside me so won’t fall to my death
I’m the king of the world I’m the Angel Of Meth

Pillager of the soul, the killer of light
A desperation that brings exquisite delight
The chances of falling are slim if not slight
Riding up high trying to recreate flight
As the fear sets in I can see what’s going on
Naked and riding a tour bus – I’m gone!
Crashing through the skylight I land of my head
A battered up fool I’m the Angel Of Meth

Breathing’s a strain with this weight on my chest
Can stifle a gasp or a murmur at best
The Devil’s inside me so won’t fall to my death
I’m the king of the world I’m the Angel Of Meth

Suddenly it hits me, the god-awful truth
What the fuck was I doing up on the roof!!!?
I could’ve slipped and fallen to a premature death
No real loss to music (The Angel Of Meth!?)
A naked ripped up body strewn down the road
Unrecognisable features with insides exposed
Piecing me together would be no easy feat
For the officers and coroners who arrive on the scene
I suppose I was lucky landing on my head
With superficial bruising, not a broken neck
But I couldn’t nod my head or stamp my feet without shooting pains
The last time I indulge in these moronic games
I’m the Angel Of Meth

6. A Brief Moment Of Regret

[Instrumental]

7. The Body Tree

We form the body tree

Extrinsic visions
Plasmic forms pulsating
Opaline entities who’s presence is elating
We form the body tree

Transcending this domain
Consensus is attained
A spirit birthed within
Realization begins
Distorted limbs entwine
A figure so divine
The most supreme cadaver
All merged as bubbling magma

8. Get Dead Or Die Trying

Disposed and cast aside I’m out on the street
No shirt on my back, No shoes on my feet
I’m not the victim I’m the one that’s to blame
Never repented or tried to change
This is the life I’ve chosen, it’s who I am
A muttering imbecile with a spliff and a can

As I bring up black matter, they look on repulsed
Spilling my cider as my body convulses
20 Bensons and a bottle of White Lightning
I’m gonna get dead or I’m gonna die trying

No will to stop or intention of abstaining
A drink of this quality for me’s life sustaining
Pure golden nectar trickling over my tongue
Filthy grey smoke coats my tumour filled lungs
Drenched in my own sick, blood, shit and piss
Shivering in terror I await the next hit

As I bring up black matter, they look on repulsed
Spilling my cider as my body convulses
20 Bensons and a bottle of White Lightning
I’m gonna get dead or I’m gonna die trying
For emetic substances I crave and I hunger
But I’m beaten to a pulp, left to rot in the gutter
20 Bensons and a bottle of White Lightning
I’m gonna get dead or I’m gonna die trying

9. It's Like There's A Party In My Mouth (And Everyone's Being Sick)

Feels like a party in my mouth and everybody’s being sick
Feels like a party in my mouth

Basking
Whilst gagging
The human waste I’m lapping
It’s flavour
I savour
In putrid juice I’m drowning
Choking
And spurting
Can’t keep it down it’s hurting
Offending
My pallet
No longer can I manage

The suppression and suspension of my normal physical traits
Sees my wilful intoxication and renewed mental state
Raising my head higher to receive my gifts forthright
Ingesting transmitted fluids to my peers’ intense delight

It’s like a party in my mouth
A party in my mouth
A party in my mouth
It’s like a party in my mouth and everybody’s being sick

10. Fear And Loathing In Old London Town

A drug-induced haze, I stagger through the smoke
Out of my nut on pills and coke
Taking in the sights, the smells, the sounds
Of dirty old London Town

A twisted beauty, we walk amongst flies
Met with disgust and accusing eyes
Windows to a barren soul
I’m out of cash and I’m on the dole

Missing links of broken chains
Statistics wrapped in flesh
Forbidden pleasures when alive
Are worshipped here in death
To feel it is to need it, is to taste what lies within
A bag of nerves, a broken man, a total waste of skin

Fear and loathing in London town
Fear and loathing in London town
Fear and loathing in London town
Fear and loathing in London town

Lurid colours and exquisite sounds are all since long forgotten
What once was beauty turns to pain, an ecstasy gone rotten
Reality and phobia returns with startling swiftness
Introducing to the stomach emptiness and sickness

11. 28 Days Later

[originally by John Murphy]

[Instrumental]







THE ROTTED LYRICS