1. |
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They smear the blood upon their face
and, oh, they feel no shame,
for it is but a trophy in their cruel and sickening game.
They come with guns and kill for fun
anything that they see.
They represent all the decay of western society.
They represent all that is wrong
with all the Human race
rich westerners who kill for sport -
they are Mankind's disgrace.
They kill so they can mount a head
above their fireplace.
They kill so that they all can smear
the blood upon their face.
Chorus
They say they've acted heroically
that they have killed a dangerous beast
they look like cowards to me
and they are the only beasts I see
The bullets smash right through the skull
and tear holes in the brain.
It is a such, that when they kill
they do not inflict pain,
and this is the excuse they use
to kill because they can,
and smile for pictures with a corpse,
the blood upon their hands.
Chorus
They smear the blood upon their face.
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2. |
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I like to go walking in the rain.
The dry northern air just makes me dizzy.
For when I walk in the rain
I feel my sadness slain
and I can walk tall again
I like to go creeping in the night.
There's a certain spark there that is missing
from proceedings in the day
that takes my breath away
so the night feels brighter anyway
Chorus
Smiles aren't natural
they're garish, cheap and bland,
so I'd rather be a sour and dour mess.
You think what you like
cos I really do not care
as I take my shoes and stroll atop my righteous higher plain
when I go walking in the rain.
They judge me for walking in the rain
they say the sunshine's much more pleasant
and I suppose the sunshine's not so bad
but it don't make me half as glad
as when I see those drips a-dropping
And when I go scuttling in the night
the rain's caress is even better
and yes, I welcome your distain
if you think I'm out my brain
for going walking in the rain
Chorus
Cease.
Chorus
When I go walking in the rain (dry northern air just makes me dizzy)
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3. |
The Sands of Time
06:02
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I used to think myself unique in a world full up with bores
but now I simply think myself alone,
for hatred keeps on rising like a black wave, up and up
and I fear that it will soak me to the bone.
Oh, I don't want to succumb, and become like one of them
with their little lives that they think are so large.
I will not let them crush my soul and drip-feed to me bitterness,
I will not let that poison in my heart.
Chorus
I will not be devoured by the hatred of the world
that I've seen turn old friends into something alien
I will not let them sully me
I will be something beautiful
I will not let the sands of time prevail.
I looked upon the wistful day with equally wistful eye
and was aghast at the the scene that met my face
this world is full of people who live to grind others down
to ensure society puts them in a higher place
and that's the way the world does work
the bad do profit most,
but we must never let them think that they have won.
Oh, they will try to mould you to fit what they think is right
but never let them, you are you,
so let your spirit soar.
Chorus
The Bullyman speaks
Chorus
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4. |
I Want to be a Butterfly
03:33
|
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|
On this moonlit night
I pine for someone to hold
but they're not forthcoming
as far as I see, hear or know,
and I should have learned by now
it's unbearably clear to see
that love in all of its splendor
was not made for souls like me.
I don't try to understand it,
just accept it as an inevitability.
Who am I to demand it
when it makes no demand of me?
Life has shackled me
and no key seems it's coming my way
I can't seem to give myself
the freedom to be me.
I don't want to be solitary anymore,
oh why are you so blind?
I turn out a caterpillar
when I want to be a Butterfly.
And oh God I am done,
it seems now that life has locked the door,
and I'm damned to trudge on alone,
but this way I don't want to live anymore
I don't want to live anymore.
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5. |
A Stitch in Time
03:32
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A stitch in time
a stitch in time
clings to another stitch in time
and all the stitches will combine
to make a tapestry.
A tapestry that starts at birth
depicts the best times and the worst
it strips you to your soul
and makes you answer to yourself.
Now all the decades fly on by
as every little stitch in time
endows the bags beneath your eyes
with decades-worth of hate;
the kind of hate that will not speak,
the kind of hate that makes you weak
the kind of hate that makes you scream
behind stone countenance.
The stitches were fresh at the start
and almost as pure as your heart,
the oldest stitches, dimmer now,
these days, can't quite be seen.
Now all the stitches reek of sin
they reek of fear and ravaged skin,
you stink of waste, you stink of shame,
you stink of all you loathed.
You'll stink that stink until the end,
when stitching slows and health descends,
and only then you'll see in dreams
the early tapestry,
and you'll regret the wasted time
that characterised your decline,
you'll beg for one more shot at life
but there'll be no more thread.
Oh, then at last,
you'll be no more,
and then your smile will be restored,
for death's the only time in life
you ever got to win.
It begins...
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The Madding Crowd Manchester, UK
The Madding Crowd are a psychotropic Glam-Punk 4-piece from the council-neglected cauldron of north Manchester, England. They formed in 2010 with brothers Ben and Dominic Corry on vocals and guitar respectively, and their cousin Claud Corry on bass. This nucleus has stood firm since. In 2018, after a 2-year hiatus the band returned with the mercurial Sam Smith on drums. ... more
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