RUBBER BULLIES by TROPICAL FUCK STORM скачать в хорошем качестве

RUBBER BULLIES by TROPICAL FUCK STORM

filmed by Chris Mathews of Defero Productions at Nagambie Speedway. from TFS album A Laughing Death In Meatspace and available on TFS Records/Mistletone 7 inch vinyl.... both available at http://mistletone.net/shop RUBBER BULLIES................................... this supermarket aircon’s freezing man i'm feeling like i’m dying it’s a half hour after midnight and the fluros zapped my appetite it don’t make choosing easy i’m waiting for a sign some miracle of marketing to save me from these isles then it’s omega man amnesia in narrow night time streets that capsize in their puddles with their storm clouds and their sleeps discreet wet dreams and nightmares seclusion, side by side the world’s way too connected and all anybody does is fight staging their crypto inquisitions all in multiple choice, like: Anything that screws you’s surely sured up by its bulk and... A: better organised? B: better mobilised? C: getting monetised? D: can’t be criticised? you better hold on and get it right you better hold on the whole world’s gonna pass you by oh how why time seems to fly oh how why life passed me by take me on a holiday put me on an aeroplane  i wanna BMW i wanna be immortal in my lifetime too there's a stone wall ‘round a citadel cities made of glass certain pasts want certain futures certain futures certain pasts there’s a building site on sesame street all party donor backed it’s all foot long sub divisions built so cheap they won’t outlast your disapproval or their doormats built by the sycophants of plutocrats and idiots big on firm handshakes and eye contact the water pressure’s pitilessand all the restaurants shut by eight the walls are made of plywood when they should be armour plate you better hold on its gonna fly here comes a letter to the occupant here comes the caveat - an eye for an eye oh how why you know the end is nigh so take me on a holiday put me on an aeroplane just take me on a holiday and put me on an aeroplane oh how time   where we going now? to that terrace over Rio with a bougainvillaea vines where the heat finally nailed me so we stayed the xtra night and the guard up in the watchtower charged with keeping out the fighting joked the difference between sexes all boils down to their handwriting when we checked out the next morning we were on a first name basis but then he had the kind of features where you can’t recall his face but it wouldn’t have been that much later he saw God’s ‘cause he died staring up the nostrils  of a UPP shotgun he couldn’t hold on he couldn’t fly wrong place wrong time is something of an understatement  the world went passed him by oh how why time seems to fly oh how why where we going now?