1. |
Den of Thieves
03:52
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You move like a tornado,
Taught you how to dance,
My anticipation’s rising,
Like a mimosa waiting for spring,
There’s a song stuck in your throat,
And I should know because I put it there,
Hang on to your lapels,
You don’t want to fall down,
Enterprisingly audacious,
Throwing satsumas around,
Leave nothing in the ink well,
Right all your ideas down,
Bedraggled yet regaling you satiate my desires,
Hang on to your lapels,
You don’t want to fall down,
Cantankerous wives and uncouth lovers,
Splay and divide their ill-gotten gains,
The stars are obscured and your compass is broken,
But the Den of Thieves is always open.
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2. |
Sixty Silver Wishes
04:12
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I’ll give you sixty silver wishes,
If you’ll elaborate on your gloom,
So morose, so suspicious,
Yet the first one’s always free,
This façade that you’re all knowing,
Backed up by misplaced bombast,
Like the fate of empires it’s fading,
Sixty Silver Wishes might bring it back,
I’m sure that between the two of us,
Dispelling wishful thinking,
Can never be so fulfilling,
Pernicious yet tantalising,
That my wish has led me here,
This façade that you’re all knowing,
Backed up by misplaced bombast,
Like the fate of empires it’s fading,
Sixty Silver Wishes might bring it back,
Sprawled out on the floor,
You implore,
You want to dream,
A single silver wish is all you need.
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3. |
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The smell of pig fat on the fire,
Reminds me of how much I revile you,
Untold stories of star-crossed lovers,
Sentiments are frowned upon in this establishment,
The special word of the week is pragmatism,
We won’t be held responsible for lack of faith,
Line them up, line them up, here’s one for the rope,
Please refrain from crying in public,
They’ll play nice at a price.
Love will break your fall
Love will break your fall…
And the sky will strike you down,
Speak to me; speak to me my darling,
Though I’m trying to sleep,
Ambition makes me feel so cheap,
I feel ill, though my ideals are bullet proof,
You’ve never looked so pretty,
As when you’re on knees,
Speak to me…
Love will break your fall…
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4. |
Walking Stick Shotgun
02:13
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I’ve got a walking stick shotgun honey,
And it’s aiming, and it’s aiming right at you,
Don’t look so confused,
Don’t act so nonplussed,
It’s very easy what I need you to do,
Stop telling me your parables,
Because they’re making nervous,
I’m not sure where I got it from,
It could’ve been Mexico, Narnia or Jericho,
Charity begins at home,
But justice starts with my walking stick shotgun,
Satiate my curiosity and show me how you have fun,
This place has a romantic strangeness,
Especially after snowfall,
Princes and principles will all get blown away by my walking stick shotgun,
All this scuttlebutt can scuttle round,
They build us up to mow us down,
I went for wool but came back shorn,
But well done is better than well said,
Revolutions only happen in my head,
They only happen with my walking stick shotgun.
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5. |
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I’m walking through thistles and broken glass,
Since you smashed your greenhouse,
When you were throwing stones,
And the past flares up in your mind,
Like an overly kind benefactor,
Forcing ideals on you,
With your arms folded tight,
You resist kicking out at the world,
I find your ambivalent disposition quite charming,
But you’re contently beguiled,
By wayward bashful smiles,
You’re sat down doing your magic tricks,
You little maverick,
They’ve got nothing on you; to that view I conform myself,
With your arms folded tight,
A sensation that makes you tingle,
It does nothing but highlight,
The extraordinary inabilities of Mr. Jingle,
It’s about as useful as a glass trampoline,
When you’re jumping for the stars,
Here’s your revolution,
Handed to you in a broken vase,
And that supercilious grin,
That’s plastered all over your face.
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6. |
Where Poets Hide
05:13
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A forlorn soliloquy whispered towards the ceiling,
As the rain punches holes, innumerable,
In the absence of action,
Is a life spent reeling from indignation,
Such impressive words, such impressive words,
On the tip of or tongue,
Laden with description you list my faults,
While your looks pull me under,
Your cynicism will tear you asunder,
In the absence of action,
Is a life spent reeling from indignation,
You’re looking at me askew,
Dreaming of pastures anew,
Well your inclinations will only get you so far,
Such fantastical tales cast bestrewn across the floor,
To be lost forever more,
Summon your fortitude your courage is required one more time,
Where poets hide
Rub your face in the Earth,
Rub your face in the Earth,
Rub your face in the Earth,
Get your money’s worth,
Rub your face in the Earth,
Rub your face in the Earth,
Rub your face in the Earth,
In the place where poets hide.
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7. |
Scallywaggy Winds
03:17
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There’s mischief to be done in this place,
A 24 hour ambulance chase,
You’ll find me graffitying,
Nonsensical, lexical, miscellaneous musings of my mind,
As I try to decide,
Which ism schism I need to belong to,
You were holding hands with Nero,
Standing oh so high up on Capitoline Hill,
As the city burned did you throw stones at the sparrows?
Did the dog in breeches opine ‘how crude?’
Did time remind you its mercies are few?
‘You’ve got a big napoleon complex’ quoth she,
‘In this land of shop lifters’,
I endeavoured to retort with something witty and clever,
But every utterance that I could deliver,
Was fumbling expressed,
And underwhelming so trite,
You were holding hands with Nero,
Standing oh so high up on Capitoline Hill,
As the city burned did you throw stones at the sparrows?
Did the dog in breeches opine ‘how crude?’
Did time remind you its mercies are few?
And what are we supposed to do?
When after all it’s all up to you now,
We’re just like Valentine and Orson,
But I’ve yet to deduce who is who,
Armed with the nine lives of Otto Katz,
It’s no surprise that you’re still here,
And I don’t know what to do.
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8. |
Regicide
04:43
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Join hands and form a circle,
Be the Earth girl and cross paths with the stars,
All the lawyers have shut up shop,
And have ridden home on their rocking horses,
With the bandits in pursuit,
So look inside
Into regicide…
Today I succeed or I lose myself completely,
We’re too young to fall,
Your fertility to summon compassion,
Is matched only by theirs to summon ill-judged pride,
Don’t follow me and leave a candle burning in the window,
As a portent of my fall by these kangaroo courts,
Remember me of I used to be,
Before this regicide…
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9. |
Man of October
05:46
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She closes her eyes and memorises her lines,
There may be a word in there somewhere,
That may ignite a magnanimous flame in our hearts,
He spends all his time lost in his book of rhymes,
Emphasising in his mind,
All the beautifully crafted words that will one day destroy him,
Expectations stored away in alphabetical disorder,
There’s a firework display in my head,
A once poetic mind has been conceded to time,
A self-defeating lack of vision remains,
The monotony of breakfast slowly kills me,
I wish it would stop, crackle and pop and go away,
Expectations stored away in alphabetical disorder,
There’s a firework display in my head,
And these ideals they were my anchor,
Pray sir, one more kick for road?
The Man of October pensively stares from the wall,
And reminds you of how you once felt,
But now it’s all gone and no-one cares,
Why should they?
Poetically seduce me with virtues to aspire…
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10. |
Bread + Butter
04:33
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She closes her eyes and memorises her lines,
There may be a word in there somewhere,
That may ignite a magnanimous flame in our hearts,
He spends all his time lost in his book of rhymes,
Emphasising in his mind,
All the beautifully crafted words that will one day destroy him,
Expectations stored away in alphabetical disorder,
There’s a firework display in my head,
A once poetic mind has been conceded to time,
A self-defeating lack of vision remains,
The monotony of breakfast slowly kills me,
I wish it would stop, crackle and pop and go away,
Expectations stored away in alphabetical disorder,
There’s a firework display in my head,
And these ideals they were my anchor,
Pray sir, one more kick for road?
The Man of October pensively stares from the wall,
And reminds you of how you once felt,
But now it’s all gone and no-one cares,
Why should they?
Poetically seduce me with virtues to aspire…
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Stray Targets Barnsley, UK
Salutations! We're Stray Targets - engage your warp-drive and join us as we traverse through all of space and time on sundry musical adventures!
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