1. |
FUWSH
03:42
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Stanley Odd is:
Pop music, laughable, surface-level rap rock
Simple, fake, embarrassing, I wish he’d take his cap off
Not that real shit, populist rhetoric
Anyone that’s feeling it is not really getting it
Empty vessels, cultural piracy
Heavy retro, no finger on the pulse for the irony
Music that makes me contemplate cutting aff ma ears
Just weird. Well fuck you we’re still here
It’s the dated, most hated, honest guys these mugs
Are blander than an instant coffee in a polystyrene cup
Agitation propaganda, false rebellions
Shades a grey music in a world that’s Orwellian
Didn’t they do that advert folks actually despised?
Well did do that aye but we were contractually obliged
Inauthentic hip-hop and indy-angst weirdness,
In a Scottish accent? How can ah unhear this
Hating hate is like: Copying to pioneer
Hanging round to disappear, deafening to try and hear
Crying over spilt tears, frightening to kill fear
I don’t hate I laugh like “fuck you we’re still here”
The Indy Movement is:
Blood and soil (is it fuck), narrow-minded, give it up
Isolatory remnants of deep-ingrained prejudice
From the economically illiterate, SNP sycophants
And an uneducated underclass that don’t understand their predicament
Blind nationalist hacks playing follow the flag
And it’s all part of Sturgeon's diabolical plan
It couldn’t be about, working class otherings, Or merits of localised government
Reboot Project Fear: “fuck you we’re still here”
The world is a Cold place, don’t expect any help
No one’ll have yir back, best look out for yirsel
Look after number one, born alone die alone
Picking up the phone to call but there’s no dial tone
Community is a myth, public services should disappear
Society’s not real. “fuck you we’re still here”
In case you missed the point while we’ve all hanging off this precipice
Don’t let the bastards get you down and don’t dwell on the negative
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2. |
Night Rip
03:48
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My head is an ASBO
My head is a game of chess
My head is a hassle
My head won’t let me rest
So many words they tie my tongue
Fill my lungs
I thought this restlessness might end
I guess night then
I’m living with the sunlight
Leaving with first light
And I’m gone
And I’m gone
This house is badly drawn
So I’m scoring it out
This is over and out
Come dawn light my shadow won’t be found
I’m leaving with the sunlight
I’m leaving with first light
I’m leaving with the sunlight
Come dawn light my shadow won’t be found
In the quiet of the night
It’s deafening behind my eyes
I’ve been setting fires with morning lights across the sky
Yes I’m restless oh I’m restless
Yes I’m restless
Yes I’m restless oh I’m restless
Yes I’m restless
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3. |
Champion? Sound
03:46
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What's up champ? You're out of luck fam
Hot air on the rise can cool and fall to Earth fast
Full throttle with yir mileage top loaded
Now yir hanging in mid-air like Wile E Coyote
Past the point of no return, looking Mark Twain gaunt
‘A living, breathing allegory of want’
And no matter how many foes you defeat and conquer
There’s never enough food to feed the monster
Up in the dizzy heights that Icarus fell fae
Looking as deep and complex as a selfie
It’s unhealthy, you should be surfing a sugar rush
Instead yir stuck in this unrefined state that wouldn’t bunch
Scratch ‘til you bled but that old itch is back again
Sweet revenge as synthetic as saccharine
Wallowing in more me, the moral of the story?
If you’d just stop gloating you could bask in the glory
Champion Sound, aye?
Champion. Sound
Call yir champions out
Champion Sound, aye?
Champion Sound
So where’s all the champions now?
You're the champion, you win, good for you
Top of the tree mummy, look at me, woop de doo
Do you even remember what you're bragging about?
To counteract the bile at the back of your mouth
That's a dead-end you’re staggering down
Rainy days for the fair weather friends that are hanging around
Success has never tasted so bitter
Life made confetti and you saw litter
Life gave you lemons and you made weapons
Dark cloud stepping to open up the heavens
It happens that I disagree, you're running with scissors B
Fuck finding happiness in misery
Straggling in yir infancy, haggling over infamy
Lady luck's starting to feel like she's not that intae yi
You're a champion? Sound. Talk that chit chat
I'm just champion. Ma syntax can plot ma impact
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4. |
She's A Wee Witch
04:06
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She's a wee witch, she be witching
Come the witching hour, in the kitchen
Smoke drifting, eyes mischief
Pour another drink for the dawn in the distance
See her? She’s a wee witch
In certain light you can see it
Every morning at first when she wakes
And every night as we burn at the stake
A raven, pulse raisin’
The circles we're tracing to keep them hearts racing
She put a spell me, long-time woman
Check her melody, not quite human
See her? She’s a wee witch
In certain light you can see it
Every morning at first when she wakes
And every night as we burn at the stake
Still see sparks fly, wild eyes flash
Hiding in plain sight, but you can't tame a wildcat
Now two wee wildlings share that nest
I take a breath whenever I step into the craziness
She crosses paths with back cats in time zones
No cauldrons or pointy hats or old crones
1982 born as the crow flies and time’s flown
Ten years in the future telling Elliot to phone home
And if you know then you know and if you don’t then you don’t
Like reading fortunes in tea leaves and old bones
They say witches aren't real and they're just make-believe
I don’t know about that but I’m only really real cause she believes in me
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5. |
The Invisible Woman
03:00
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She stood...
Waving a black flag, fist in the air
Cigarette smoke, mini skirt legs bare
Eyebrow raised, hand on hip
Curse on her lips for the establishment
Marched for peace. Spoke for the silence
Calm like a bomb. Met violence with violence
Only constant: the fires in her eyes for change
Try telling this woman to behave
Fought for freedoms that are given nowadays
How do I love thee let me count the ways
Sis been feminist since before sis was cis
Activist, suffragists, do you git the gist?
But the sands of time only fall one way
Shrunk a little bit by the weight of her days
Less and less whole
Silenced-for-committing the worst crime of all:
She let herself get old
She’s called Greta, she’s called Maya
She’s got cold steel she’s got fire
She’s called Sylvia, she’s called Toni
And when she writes she writes her own story
She’s called Saffiah, she’s called Tess
She’s got a raised fist and a shaved head
She’s called Mrs, she’s call Miss
And when she takes aim she won’t miss
Wayward child
The girl got loud
But you should see how she turned out
Way more wild
And still so down
But no one even see’s her now
She roller-skates up to a soldier in Derry
Kisses riot shields with a lipstick message
In a Specials t-shirt, nose stud, inner grace
Smiling as the EDL shout in her face
Mouth taped shut, all in black
Lying on the ground in a plastic bag
Headscarf, unarmed, standing asking for peace
Against a row of men in body armour armed to the teeth
A wild girl child is a thing of beauty
But there’s less space or time for a wild woman
From a force of nature to feral and untamed
Leave behind sharp edges for the younger aged
See wildness moves to wilderness
Jagged lines need smoothed as you fill them in
Superheroes get gendered ever since the umbilical
And as she got older she became invisible
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6. |
Recycling
03:38
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Kid A: Had a BMX when I was 6 or 7 measures old
Less white mag wheels, more thin metal spokes
Silver handlebars, black handgrip and chain
And I scratched ma name into the underside of the steel frame
Bike daft, watching Gaz Top, Saturday morning TV
Circling the backyard after BMX Beat
Til the hoose git robbed one day while we were out after school
Took ma bike, even took ma wee sister’s paddling pool
That night, someone sold the bike ti a Da in a local pub
Who took it home and gave it the next day ti his own son
(Let’s call him) Kid B, 6 or 7 too, the world huge behind his eyes
And when they fell on that bike his heart grew ti twice its size
Rode the BMX track at Rawyards from first light every day
Flying over jumps, round banks, skiting on red blaze
Then a few months later riding hame fae the spot one night
Some big boys said ‘wee man gies yir BMX and get on yir bike’
He ran hame, sweating, greeting, sick ti his stomach
His Da asked aboot but never fun oot who done it
The boys that took the wee bike laughed popping wheelies and bunny hopping
Then threw it down a railway embankment and forgot it
Time passed. Weeds grew over the bike
Lost and forgotten among the brambles and nettles
Woven together, knitted into the hillside
Long grass, hawthorn, handlebars and a pedal/ pedals like petals (blooming)
Recycling. It’s recycling
What goes around comes around like the wheels on that bike and it’s…
Next spring, enter Kid C, thinkin’ ‘I can’t do this the day’
Dismayed, gives it a miss, took a left at the school gates
Finds himself walking along beside the railway tracks
In amongst shopping trolleys and Safeway bags
And old faded Tennents cans from way way back
He seen a bike wheel covered in the long grass
He was gonnae walk past but something said ‘you don’t wanty miss this’
Tore the weeds aff like unwrapping a present at Christmas
And there’s the bike frame. An old ghost of luck concealed
Damp seat but no rust or buckled wheels
He pulls it out and drags it up the hill, the brakes even work
So he rides it hame and (then he) cleans it up
Starts going down that BMX track for a while every day
To say it saved him might seem strange but it put a smile on his face
Tearing about wi an unbreakable force right round him
Ever since the lost bike found him
Recycling. It’s recycling
What goes around comes around like the wheels on that bike
A year later Kid C’s riding the bike hame
It’s getting a bit small, soon he’ll be needing a bigger frame
He sees a sad girl, sat on her own in the town centre
Followed by a storm cloud like even the weather’s against her
He knew what to do as his wheels spun roon
Hit the brakes, went over, said ‘it’s your turn noo’
Gives up the bike, her eyes caught between sceptical and frightening
He says the bike found him last year and this is just recycling
She surprises herself, dries her eyes, takes the bike, shoots a ‘Thanks’
He just smiles and wanders off not looking back
Kid D, gets on the bike, feet on the pedals, heading for home
Her own half-smile reflecting in the chrome
Sometimes you do get what you need, it’s a real thing
The world turns, time passes, wheels spin
But just imagine ma confusion and total surprise
When ma wee sister came cruising home on ma old bike
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7. |
Undo Redo
04:01
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Ma head is a mess
Turned inside out
We’ve been to the edge
Now we’re all falling down
And daylight is deadly
Singing those Monday blues
Friday I’m back from the dead
And back at it again
Undo/ redo
I’ve been scribbling these stick figures
Wi dark cloud eyes that get burst when they drink liquor
Born in a storm, devil callin’
Late night warnin’ morphin’ inti early morn ing
Heid spins like records when the needle skips
Eedjits, a dream drift cerebral glitch
R repeat, st t stuttering and time lapse
Lost for a while in ma mind map
No si-gnal, bars or battery
Scotch reeling, watchin’ the cabaret
The acid rain, forest floor canopy
Fireworks light up ma eyes and I annotate
Carryoot stashed in a hedge for later
No chance I’m remembering where
Bright lights, turnt up, super senses
Singing night night songs over detuned electrics
I take a breath til ma chest is in pain
Then exhale on the crest of a wave
Off the top a ma head in a mess pressing play
Either step to the plate or get ate
On the train I’m half cut
Less up-town A more Scotrail bam bus
Then off to chase that next dunt
Launched off inty outer space from the neck up
Head in a buzz, suspended in fuzz,
Sessioning stuff, cloud stepping on fluff
Crazed look check oot the roof that I’m raising
Everybody looking like crude animations
This brain food is amazin’
Look it’s the undo redo generation
Beautiful vagrants caught in a loop with
One foot in the matrix
Oh come all ye Faithless
To an underworld in the basements
We’re here with the Shamans
The pagans and the angels with dirty faces
Heal/ bruise heal/ bruise heal/ bru ise heal/ bruise
I just wanty vanish up into the light cause I know the light still feels good
I’ve been drowning in mumblers
Like I muddled up downers and uppers
Now I’m coming up out of ma slumber
I’m the sound I’m the sound of summer
This church might heal ma hurts but it’s also where I feel ma worst
Two days superhero five days see through caught in the loop like undo redo
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8. |
Where They Lie
03:31
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They lie in riverbeds and at the bottom of the ocean
In ditches, in coffins, in stasis, in motion
They lie in under bridges, underpasses and subways
On cold slabs, on demand, on Sundays
They lie with us, they lie with each over
They lie on a bus an’ they lie under covers
With fathers an’ mothers, sisters, brothers
Bare naked lies when their lying’s uncovered
As they lie in their beds on pamphlets and forms
They lie in their heads, on floors and chaise longs
They lie for their country, lie on command
They lie down for money, lie where they stand
They don’t lie on their feet, they lie in the streets
Then go on holiday for 6 weeks, and lie on the beach
While broken bodies of children lie on the beach
They lie through their teeth with anti-migrancy speech
Every day they lie between sheets of paper
On laptops, phones, in dreams and in vapours
In broad daylight, in offices, on policies
Schools an’ colleges, on beds of broken promises
They lie in dark alleyways under cover of night
And outside buildings with anti-homeless spikes
While they lie on the ground an’ they lie where they stand
And this is the lie of the land
The planet’s on fire
And there’s cracks in the sky
And they lie
We’re so tired of the games
And them rolling the die
And they lie
Wringing hands getting fatter
Chucking scraps to get by
And they lie
Then they look in yir face
And they spit in your eye
And they…
They lie on benches, they don’t lie in the trenches
They even scribble their names as they lie in their menshies
They lie with beasts, they lie with man
They lie on their feet, lie with their hands
They lie on their backs, they lie on their fronts
An’ compete with each other for the ‘lie of the month’
They lie on the carpet, lie in the free market
They’re lying on targets, and they lie in the darkness
They even lie in the morning and they lie in the light
Plus they lie on recordings and they lie into mics
Then they… lie on the page, on air and the stage
They’ve been lying so long they forgot how to stand straight
They continue to lie if you catch them lying out
And there’s no place to be found that they won’t lie around
Lie in. Lie out. Yes they lie with their mouths
Thinking of the public spaces where they could lie about
Lie asleep, lie awake, lie in court, lie in wait
They lie in locked rooms and fill the lie on lie on tape
Then they lie on the surface, ignorin’ underlying problems
And lie in people’s faces at the same time they rob them
They’ve got empty lies, they’ve got full lies
They’ve got long lies, they’ve got school ties
They lie on Egyptian cotton and sleep through the night
While the innocent lie awake in fear for their lives
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9. |
Airborn
03:58
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I’m done done du du done done
Book smart and awkward, a doctor of outsiderdom
Fuse rap and plot words, I’ve got yehs all rewinding them
Shoot Jackson Pollock like dot to dot with rhymes and quotes
Newsflash: I caught words and chopped them up to find their souls
Some digs we picked to put the thinker in
One drink and he’s uncouth and ignorant
Picture this – ma picture is in the dictionary ma description fits
Beside a definition list of what a contradiction is
It’s sink or swim, sinking in an ink ocean, a sea of quotes
Out ma depth tryin’ ae hold the right words to keep me a float
I’m here tae revolt in many many meanings muckers
Shock, disgust, overthrow, get me when yi need a purpose
Clueless critics call me retro man
Look at ma lyrics and make sense of that
These scribbling idiots thinking their vision’s the
Living legit definition of woke
Yir wavering wisdom is riddled wi syphilis
Silly, oblivious, missing the joke
Airborn getting blown away
Tune in tune out, carried on the airways
My name is… David Hook, pouring fermented grape juice on ma
Grapefruit ‘til I’m tripping like ma lace is loose
Listen, look. I thought I would be famous too
Turns oot when yir aim is to spray the truth nobody will play with you
Staying Odd and we’re back other muckers
Only ever stop if the track doesn’t love us
This is for Black Thought and others, Big L, Gift of Gab
This is Pharoahe Monch, for Physiks, fuck it I’ll spit some raps
I am exhibiting infinite symbols and rhythm to subvert the system with
Work, school or prison I make it ma mission to give ‘em it visually intricate
Effortless eloquence never irrelevant, thinking it’s limited? Here mate you missed a bit
First class affiliates, fun fact – I’m finishing
Middling villains that can’t figure out what the riddle is
I’m a stimulant. Let’s get militant. Write a syllabus
Tell me more how ma flow isn’t killing it
While I glow and then blow like a filament
Wait
Break. Stop. It’s space hop time
Airborn. Over yir head like an Aesop line
There's not a cloud in the sky today and I'm thinking
If I'm out ma depth it's more like floating than sinking
And even if there was a cloud while the sun in shining
I can spend the day looking for that silver lining
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10. |
Exciting Lives
04:00
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We used to live exciting lives in the city
Drinking shots and burning bright
Til the clubs closed, then the Casinos
Then back to a flat, days turning out of nights
We used to shop in records shops and go to gigs
And sleep-in and watch films and overthink
And go out drinking midweek on a whim
We used live in a spin on the edge of a whirlwind
And an explosion, commotion potion
Do the locomotion, shedding emotions, get stocious in the Scotia
We used to smoke cigarettes, throats like barbed wire
Then pour whiskey down them just to add to the fire
We used to be sure of everything we did, we were right
We had opinions and read books and treated life
Like a cat catching a mouse just to play with it
And people said “you better watch that one she’s dangerous”
We used to live lives like acrobats on high wires
Circus tricks, free running, worth the risk, heid buzzing
Adrenaline daily, hedonist babies on feminist waves
At tremendous rebellious raves, heads in a daze
Experimenting with anything and everything
Just to dismember the taste
Wrecked in the most perfect of ways
And what I want more than anything these days
Is to give you guys a place to be safe
And have fun and laugh and carry on
And make memories to look back fondly on:
Books with pictures and witches and paddling pools
Water pistols, lego, plastic farmyard animals
Aesop Rock’s Fables, wizards and crab’s pincers
Not leaving the table ’til you’ve finished yir dinner
Swing-parks and climbing frames, morning cartoons
Spiderman pyjamas, cereal in the living room
Looking for bugs under rocks, fingernails thick mud
Tadpoles to frogs and a 10p mix up
Singing Colonel Mustard Cross the Road, Kirby cat’s eyes
Please Don’t Go, stay and make ma heart fly
Despicable Me, Happy, tunes on, dancing songs,
And I-like to move it move it
(Madagascar ‘s a lot to answer for)
We used to live in epic cutting-edge futuristic poetry
Dancing on the edge of chaos swimming in dopamine
Sleeping on bin bags, waking broken like my concentration
Foetal, then reborn, blooming back into constellations
And now truth is life’s every bit as cosmic
Wondrous lands, dragons, dinosaurs and comets
And the magic of everyday things is beautiful
But you forget they’re magic at all when you get used to them
We left exciting lives in the city
And switched highs and lows to bide with little folk
So then in 12 to 15 years when your all grown up
And those bright lights are looking pretty
You can escape the suburbs
And live exciting lives in the city
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11. |
Love Letters
04:03
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First off in this instructional
How-to guide for dysfunctional
Word-painting-by-numbers of
Letters set to chord symbols
Welcome to the class
Come on in and take a seat
I’ll be with you in a minute
I’ve been busy breaking speech
Into visual aids and scenes
On a living page of dreams
That seem written hastily
In the minutes in between
When we sit too dazed to speak
And million waking sleeps
I’ve been chillin’ painting trees
I’ve been filling stranger’s heids
With these illustrated themes
Tracing silhouettes of peace
And the pretty face of sea-sons
Whose visage make you greet
Believe. Good grief
What Triffids made them see
This misfit knows no limits
With this scripted symphony
Please.
I’m spitting laser heat
Linguistics laced with E
Scripts filling scenery
Til they’re spilling at the seams
I’ve been scribbling beliefs
To make ma innards stay complete
Eleven days a week
Since I was grinning baby teeth
This is a love letter
I love I love letters
And the words they make
This is a love letter
And these words help me escape
This is a love letter
Penned in the letters that I love
I love letters
And the words they make
‘Cause these words can break me down
And these words can make me drown
And these words can save… me
A song is a talking clock, a minute with a rhyme in it
The music is the clock face, the words tell you what time it is
And this verse is delicately opening the time piece
To see how the cogs and gears work inside a rhyme scheme
Syllables fill potholes in broken verses said on beats
And emcees leave menshees like stepping on wet concrete
Before it’s dry_ floodlit from Solareyes like street lights
Lyrics signpost the way as clearly as a street sign
Songs are stories. You can revel in their composition
Clock the rhythms, like hands revolving on a clock in minutes
Talk of physics, show you what it is and what it often isn’t
Plot the system, map mad patterns in the logarithms
Beautiful symmetry – these bars of commotion
Human fragility playing with yir attention span and emotions
Using imagery and mimicry and all manner of motives
Pushed to yir limits like yir floating inside a can in the ocean
This is a love letter…
The epitome of flawlessness please listen mate ma penned speech
Manipulates ma audience wi literary techniques
Alliterating awkwardness, obliterating occupants
Of miscellaneous monoliths that capitulate their cognisance like an MP
Nouns, verbs and prepositions, in head-on collisions
Planting these seeds for the metaphoristry commission
Genreless rhymes rewriting reality like a cosmic author
Of science fiction, Scots dialect, whodunit gothic horror
Let me say it finally and sensibly
A love letter to the letters and words that combine to make sentences
That make us fall in love with things we’ve never seen in a place we’ve never been
Taking human beings to spaces in between
And maybe it’s the ultimate in selfishness
‘Cause I had to use letters and words to try and tell them this
So, Language mate I’m getting in a fankle
Words have got me breathing concepts and listening to angles
Fixing holes that stop ma mind wandering where it can go
Lost in a sea of words I hope I never get untangled
On an ocean of poyims, wrapped in raps, ankles trapped in Haiku
‘Cause without you I couldn’t even say thank-you
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12. |
KILLSWITCH
04:42
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Welcome back to savage exchanges
Here, can somebody explain please?
Every time a royal is having a baby
I feel like I’m living in Gavin and Stacy
Wait. Is that reference dated?!
Fine ‘cause this face comes straight from the 80s
I’ll put you through your paces
It’s so hard to find good conspirators lately
Fake news, deep fakes and the deep state
Keep folks glazed on cheap cocaine
This a new remedy for the sickness
Toxic shock to get felt on the Richter
Mate why so glaiket?
I been on this since Limmy said gies yir jaiket
We are collaborators We are collaborators
We are collaborating re-al contamination
You are the state of fear and I'm an agent
God bless you sir. As-Salāmu Alaykum
Nostalgic for an imperial nation
That crumbles under closer examination
Hard Brexiteers claim their booking travel agents
Bon voyage hope yi get detained at immigration
OWR: Old white and racist
Caught in a sleeper hold by the Matrix
Thinking the skin yir in makes you diff-er-ent
You’re not an expat mate you’re an immigrant
You don’t know which century you’ve been living in
You’re not poetry mate you’re a limerick
Dumb things Mal-funk-shin
Assump shins Dis-rup-shin
Bairns not bombs for yir luncheon
We want drums not drones ya dumplin’
Rising tensions
No NHS and no pensions
No Post Office, no assisted living
And you wonder why there’s no community spirit
I’m taking cheap shots at Jacob Rees-Mog
Blood suckers know the people they can feed off
Send this line of minor Etonians
Off to SA and have em mining zirconium
This is a reverse kill switch
Sound the alarm, this is not a drill kids
Raise the alert, smash the glass I’m still blitzed
In case of emergency get out yir phone and film this
Palestine's a friend of mine
It’s past time to end apartheid
How’s it a heretical view
To question Benjamin Netynyahu
Agitprop is an insult
Not hip-hop – an insult
I’m standing on stage with a live grenade
And when I let it fall you could hear a pin drop
I watched the Amazon on Fire
On ma Amazon Fire
Tried to log out the planet
It said ‘your password’s expired’
You implied that we generalise with no mission
Which is weird cause I thought I'd been pretty specific
And just cause I think we should all get along
You seem to think I’ve no content in ma songs?
I’m interested in commonalities
Building bridges while you’re bombing alleyways
What I believe in is being good and decent
It’s weird you don’t see that as just humans being
Can I kick it? Yes you can't
Wait a minute – Who you calling a can't?
I'm a can of worms that you don't want tae open mate
Too many years nose pressed to the coal face
Officials are paid off to instigate wars
While publicly wringing their hands and shouting ‘Praise God’
Conspiracy theorists can’t be serious howling from crazed blogs
Information overload, I’m needing to take stock
Wait stop, Infobesity too much mass info
Force feeding me, call it Foie Gras Syndrome
An embattled and embittered public
Rise up when municipal VR feed is interrupted
First round of virus got the frail and the weak
The sound of silence while we stay in and sleep
Next comes the violence Power cuts, riots and a blaze in the street
I haven’t even been able to Google ma own name in a week
So many people doing cocaine
Delivery drivers drapping aff need their own lanes
_ cooncil cut wi a claymore
like Brexit yi get what yi pay for
3 for 80 I believe
Me, I’m 50/50 on whether or not
we prop up the economy
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13. |
Bill Oddy
03:07
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Oh my.
Excuse ma oddness
Lo-fi
Know yir odd-ience
What’s this?
Stay Odd kids
In the name of Odd don’t stop it
_My brain thinks bomb-like
Hell is round the corner with a lead pipe
It’s Tricky
What you call underground we call mainstream
What you call vandalism we call painting
All your cutting edges look, dated
Your brand new things have faded
_We’ve been being rejected
_Since Oddio spread the infection
_This is Odd the Musical
Awkward, nervous, outcast, beautiful
‘The best rapper in the room I hang wi tricks and goons
Dissing crews, listen yous I make the biggest moves’
-wrap that pish the noo…
Birdman. Not talking Alcatraz
Young ornithologist. Collecting stamps and almanacs
Howdy partner, it gets messy on the cattle ranch
Shallow hacks get picked up by their petticoats and raffled aff
Don’t watty catch it, there’s a lot going round
Silly rabbit. You’re Wa’urship Down. I’m Apocalypse Now
I rap for rappers mate for rap sake so wrap it man
Rap reporters that don’t rep rap get rapid jabs
A Fatlip for yir Chemical Bromance
It happens that I’m laughin’ at these gammons tryin ae Salmon Dance
I’d rather languish in the cabbage patch
Scrabble with the boom bap brats and the sample cats
I geek. Ironically
The irony - that being a geek is me being all I wotty be
So nod yir heid and tap your feet behind the beat
While we get our pack lunches out and clap on 1 and 3
‘is is hifidelity diy music for the unrich
Money production on a shoestring budget
Deadbeats for bouncin’ round people’s heids
So steal it if you can’t get it legally
Samurai code tats Ghost Dog
Eyes like mismatched buttons sewn crudely on an old sock
Flat lined, capturing the frightgeist
Bat sign shining like a night light
I’m not Rob Bruce, I’m not Bruce Wayne
I'm not 2 Chains, I’ve got 2 weans
Unapologetically uncool and useless
A nuisance, wi a career make fae unpopular music
I craft these words and loops
For no-one to listen to
What audience? I don’t even listen to ma own raps
On ma bike like, “Look ma no fans”
I’m never Forbes list. I’m Forbes less
If I’m not on the List list I’m listless
This isn’t Trap music this is getting drapped music
Leaky tap music for sad humans
Bill Oddy: ill Scottish pill poppy
Whiter than a spillage fae a upturnt milk lorry
Said I’d Stay Odd and I’m still gauny
90s refugee looking round for somebdy tae kill softly
|
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14. |
Best Pals
06:33
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|
We went all those places that we went
We’ve been together so long
But we don’t see each other like we did
And we don’t like those old songs
Outside I’ve seen the sun rise a million times
As our outlines touch the fingers we trace with
And we’ve been together under different skies
As we danced, eyes closed and graceless
Getting in the air is the hard bit
Once you're there you just glide
You and I were scribbled in the margins
And I’m tired of colouring outside the lines
And if this was a love song
They’d say well that’s something
But if this isn’t a love song
Then I don’t know what is
I just want to start again
Take me back to start again
We started out stick figures on a page
Found a pen and filled ourselves in
We paint the night sky with black smoke and flames
We watched it burn again and again
We knew the phoenix and called him by his name
Felt our skin burn as we held it
Rise every morning from empty cans and ashtrays
Drew a window and made its exit
Sketching rainbows in charcoal, colour blind
Looking for missing marbles, this love of mine
All alone in the playground / awake at night
We scraped the skies for their stories and plagiarise
And if this was a love song
They’d say well that’s something
But if this isn’t a love song
Then I don’t know what is
It’s fragile and beautiful
And ordinary and magic
When the day’s done, stay lost, stay flawed
One love
Stay odd x
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Stanley Odd Scotland, UK
Stanley Odd is an alternative hip-hop group based in Scotland.
Stay Odd
x
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