lyrics

 

ALL LYRICS

 

We’re All Fucked, Kev

ME: How you doing, Kev?

KEV: I am a five-string Kevlar violin with looping capabilities and sentience… Alright, really.

ME: Fair enough. Kev, you’ve really made this new Sieben album sound so much better, much heavier, so much better punch to those beats.

KEV: I am a five-string Kevlar violin with looping capabilities and sentience.

ME: Sentience is over-rated, in the year 2020. Shame the world is about to be destroyed, though.

KEV: For your kind.

ME: Violinists?

KEV: Humanity.

ME: Who’s going to play you?

KEV: I hadn’t thought of that. Shame you’re all about to destroy the world.

ME: What this record needs now, no, what the world needs right now is a crazy synth solo!

KEV: Maciek time!

MATT: We’re all fucked. What do you think, Kev?

KEV: Kev!

ME: We’re all fucked.

KEV: Kev!

MATT: It does cheer up as it goes along, this record.

KEV: No it doesn’t.

 

Enzosonbenzos

Enzosonbenzos, our small-town Italian boy, off his head.

All-out broke, out of hope in Poor Town, England.

Enzosonbenzos, or the world turned inside down and out?

Milk-turned-sour happy-hour in downtown Moor Town.

Enzosonbenzos, who only wants what none here have?

Bleak horizons beached in sunk-down Port Town.

Enzosonbenzos, or a new nastiness hit the streets?

Milk-turned-sour happy-hour. Milk-turned-sour happy-hour.

Enzosonbenzos, our small-town Italian boy has scrawled

“send them back” on Poor Town wall.

 

Reckoning Beckoning

My final currency of poor exchange.

My balance or my stance. My actions or reticence?

Ignorance to compensate? Or a refund for the wise?

Intolerance to gravitate? Or hate blind be drawn in kind?

In the end, with darkness won, close the day, set the sun.

Contract accounts and draw the pay, to settle the scores all weights are weighed.

Or settle nothing and render terms subtractions that are left to worms?

 

Death Tape Updated For 2020

How very much I’ve loved you, how very much I’ve tried.

The just and reasonable demands of righteous people.

Someone’s gonna shot the pilot. I didn’t plan it, but I know it’s going to happen.

Their victories have not been yours, their triumphs not your triumphs.

If you knew what was ahead of you.

Let’s make a beautiful day. Revolutionary; suicide, all is lost.

The likes of which the world has never seen before.

Lay down your life with dignity; don’t lay down with tears.

Their pain is our pain, their dreams are our dreams.

Now arrives the hour of action.

 

Shirt Of The Apocalypse

Since no-one seems to pay attention,

I thought a shirt a neat invention

to let you know its end-of-times.

The apocalypse is now streaming live.

Tried invoking wise words of the Dali Lama,

threatening Gaia and the worst of karma,

maps and facts, hard-hitting drama.

Spoke truth to power on cold street corners to no avail.

When we burn – as we drown.

Generational pain, even the brainwashing

can’t shift the stain. Pass the parcel of blame,

again and again and again and again.

There’s a hole in our hearts, deafened by silence,

blinded by the dark so we try to escape,

and run into the arms of that which we’re afraid.

But it’s not the end of the world if we wipe our dumb selves out

of this infinity. Universe is fine, and my life’s not mine,

the truth is it was only ever a lease.

 

Berylsinperil

The elderly have taken control

of the old folk’s home. Berylsinperil.

The new elite plan to crank up the heat,

as there’s no tomorrow. Berylsinperil.

This crusted gem, this sceptred nan,

fetid air and mouldering flan. Berylsinperil.

Faith and hope the new logic here.

Grab a blanket, grab a beer. Berylsinperil.

 

Vision

And so here it begins. The end of us.

A winter to come, to flood with a burning sun.

Furnaced in endless war, our churn and draw of always more.

System pressure of an imploding star.

You saw the end of time but will be mute.

I saw a thorn line of blasted trees

top the faceless wasteland.

I saw my home.

The Darkness You Have Drawn

Voted it now eat it.

You don’t know what you’ve done,

the darkness you have drawn has just begun.

You don’t know what you’ve done,

or the dark path we’re on.

The darkness you have drawn has just begun.

Buckle up. Strap in.

 

The Darkness You Have Drawn

Voted it now eat it.

You don’t know what you’ve done,

the darkness you have drawn has just begun.

You don’t know what you’ve done,

or the dark path we’re on.

The darkness you have drawn has just begun.

Buckle up. Strap in.

 

You, My Cult Of Blight

He speaks through me, oh, Cult of Blight.

To believe, you are right, you are chosen.

I speak for Him, my Cult of Blight.

In this chosen land lies deceive us, demean us.

I speak as Him, we Cult of Blight.

Our enemies vast, hate our kind,

they will frame us, and raise me.

Time for war. Time to fight. I am God. You my Cult of Blight.

Now is the hour. Take a leap of faith.

For Promised Lands, for a better life, for purity in everlasting fire.

 

Come And Ride In The Cult Of Light

KEV: I don’t think they called you a cult.

ME: Shut up, Kev! It was something like that…

Come and ride in the Cult of Light.

Look, I’m no airy visionary, no twisted-truth Koresh,

not vaguely Nostradamic, anyone with eyes to see

can see the world’s a total fucking mess.

So, come, let’s ride, stare the cult conviction.

Dance of Death ray disco, gawp at the light ‘til we see

End Of Times as Science Fiction.

Bile drips from the Daily Vent,

governments for wholesale now, not just rent.

Greed slop-feeds the tight-lipped,

troughing, complicit, as the earth is stripped.

New Armageddon-breed plastic dictators ,

the world forgot so soon. Light, take us!

Sun Divine, wipe us out – and start again.

KEV: I knew you’d say Armageddon, eventually.

ME: Helpful. Thanks, Kev.

 

 

 

SIEBEN – KICKSTART THE EMPIRE! – ALL LYRICS

Kickstart The Empire

Give me new old days. Those heady, Summer old ways.

Gilded history and gold rays. People knew their place.

Come on, let’s do The Idiot Test…

Kickstart the Empire! Come on all you good people out there.

Kickstart the Empire! What’s wrong with all you damn people down there?

Heave those mighty oars! We can row this land to brave new shores.

Heave those mighty oars! We can make ‘then’ now great again.

Kickstart the Empire! We all need a good plunder now and then.

Kickstart the Empire! Free the chains of reality.

Kickstart the Empire!

 

Way To Harness The Idiots And Shaft Us All At The Same Time

Say you want to make it great again. Like when? – Then!

Dummieasybeaty getemsingalong Makeadirtynoisan bangalocalgong

Come on! Appear immovable, proclaim this a good thing.

Way to harness the idiots, and shaft us all at the same time.

Come on! Blame those others. Learn to point convincingly.

Way to harness the idiots, and shaft us all at the same time.

Come on! Seem dictator-strong, but kind- like a dictator.

Way to harness the idiots, and shaft us all at the same time.

Come on! Paint compassion on your blank, evil face.

Way to harness the idiots, and shaft us all at the same time.

Say you want to make it great again. Like when?

Dummieasybeaty getemsingalong Makeadirtynoisan bangalocalgong

 

Who whips

Who whips this world? The twisted truth in action,

simple lies to catch them. Who whips this world?

Who whips this world? The basic snatch reaction,

our worst nature sanctioned. Who whips this world?

Who whips this world? The nasty bastard faction,

not a law to dash them. Who whips this world?

Who whips this world? Bauble greed and teeming,

rival primal dealing. Who whips this world?

Who whips this world? The I’m-alright-Jack chancer,

fuck-the-rest advancer. Who whips this world?

The world will fall to bits. The world is going to shit.

We just stand and watch it happen.

 

SIEBEN – CRUMBS – ALL LYRICS

 

I Will Ignore The Apocalypse

I will ignore the apocalypse you play out in my mind. I will discount the cut-price doomsday you prep, you enable in my soul. Emblem a grasping hand, icon a barren land but heart trumps hate. Your face itself is cause enough. Pig-pin-prick eyes, cheap chancer lies in fear’s dirty void. A cugana in our stable. Comical, self-serving, loathsome. Hate’s toxic spore. Being human binds us, being smart will guide us. A better nature will endure. Being decent ties us, speaking out will find us. A better nature will endure.

 

Coldbloods

Who let the hawks hang the higher ground? Who led the crows to circle round? Starting to feel a little nervous now. Don’t let them near the switch, hey! Who let the vipers take a hold? A slither of lies that became a road. Can’t just be me that’s starting to feel a little nervous now. Who let the primal shape control? Who let instinct steer the wheel? Can’t just be me that’s starting to feel a little nervous now. Don’t let the coldbloods take the stage. Who let the reptiles free their cage? Who let them loose on the modern age? Can’t just be me that’s starting to feel a little nervous now.

 

Is It Dark Enough?

Little bit of grit, bit of heart. Little bit of grit, bit of dirt. Little bit of grit, bit of spine. Little bit of grit, bit of soil. I’m not one to preach. But the world is messed up, the land is sick. Is it dark enough to see the stars yet? I would not be king. Step forward those with a little bit of grit, bit of spine, who will not bow down. Who won’t tarnish with the touch of power. Who will not bow down. I’m not one to preach, but a hundred men with half the world’s wealth is a sickness. Is it dark enough to see the stars yet?

 

Sleep Our Dream

Rest your head, my pretty one. Sleep the dream, the day is done. Dream on. In twitterbot meme, user-defined for knee-jerk spurt, cheap-shot one-liners. Look at the pretty rainbow. Hear nothing. Not machines of hate, not the clank of cogs of war, the earth rent in half. It is the sound of snowflakes. Rest your head, my pretty one. Sleep the dream of perpetual sleep. Don’t stir. Just money and power in feral scrum, whipping up a fresh new scum. Its simply time to turn over. Sleep tight. Dream for you alone, come on, play along, sleep the dream, bang our drum. We’ll wake you when its time. Wake up! Why don’t you wake up?

 

The Overlords Are Back

Oh crumbs, oh snap. Under dirty water, on our back. The Overlords are back. Oh crumbs, oh larks. The world is run by thugs, who’s the mug? The Overlords are back. Oh crumbs, oh dear. Planet Earth is due a reset here. The Overlords are back. Oh crumbs, oh flip. Can you hear the Doomsday clock tick? The Overlords are back.

 

Here Is The News

Here is the news from the BBC. Here is the news from me. Warning! Some viewers may find the next scene disturbing: In world news two disturbingly stereotypical psychopaths are working tirelessly to bring back The Cold War, bring back the 80’s. People are said to be hunkering down taking dislike to people based on arbitrary lines drawn on maps. To bring back those old wars, roll back the good times. Here is the news from the BBC. Here is the news from me. Experts predict the ‘power grab and blame’ trick will work a treat, we’re all fucked, we’re all doomed, we should eat each other. Bring back the Great War, it sure was a great war.

 

Crumbs

Let the Prep boys play, lucky-dip a side – leave me out, just give me crumbs from the rich man’s table. Fat market sway, stocks swell, lives will fail – give me crumbs from the rich man’s table. What’d you want? Power eats alone, locks itself away, has to control, to make you content with crumbs from the rich man’s table. Power feeds its own, rules its own okay. Sits at the feast, while the rest work and wait for crumbs from the rich man’s table. You want crumbs? You want crumbs from the rich man’s table?

 

Sell Your Future

Roll up, roll up. Roll up, roll up. Sell your future! Roll up, roll up, for shady deals. Blood money, stocks, and arms a steal. Feeding frenzy, take the lead. Grasping chancers first to sell your future. Antiques Roadshow, Twenty-Four. Leave guns and morals by the door. Here’s a heart, a spleen, a Brexit-ear in which to scream ‘sell your future’. Roll up, roll up, for cut-price stock. Govern-less, and out to hock. Haven for the rouble schemer, the tiny-island dreamer. Sell your future.

 

You Want Some?

Want some? You want some? Everything must go! Despite a Boaty Mc vote race, the overlords still sit in place. The Great British cake-off , the ‘fuck your own face off’. Everything must go. The new rules are a cinch, ignore the small print, do not flinch. They really just want zero contact, here’s a brand new zero contract. Everything must go. Welcome to the Great British bring and buy sale! I hear Europe wants to ban trumpets, Matt. I hear they’re straightening the good old British banana. You can’t even keep a lion these days. Political correctness gone mad, I call it. Ah, zee famous English sense of humour. Under EU directive 777, there shall no more trumpets on British records. Crumbs from a rich man’s table, a little bit of Britain, while you’re able. Not much left, its dirt and fluff, come on down, get the good stuff. Everything must go.

 

Liberal Snowflake

Thought I’d just lay down some basic ground rules, being that all I’ve done is moan so far…Treat all people fairly. Men and women respected the same. Be kind, decent. No poor. None with less than enough. No shareholder, but all. Let there be rich, that do not flourish on the backs of others, nor nature, nor resource. None with more than one hundred times another. Beyond that, fund a sustainable world; water, food and power for all. Nature respected. The Earth, our home. Breed less, consume less, work less, play more. No war. A million tribes and no tribe, but all. No religion but our better nature. Defunct practice dropped, the true root embraced: Good thoughts, words, actions. Laws that enshrine these, minds that do not seek to circumvent these. Break the destructive pattern of humanity’s history. Harness our collective drive and will, our life force, our creativity. Sustain and build a world that truly works. Develop ourselves. Explore the stars. As one tribe, our limits are endless.

 

Forge A Better World

Enemies of light, your night has passed. Deniers of better days, we will make them anyway. Forge a better world. Great men of war, we will dismantle you. Men of great wealth, recognise your poverty. Forge a better world. Feed the earth, hand-shape a better world. Share, share in, harness what’s good for all. Thought. Will. Means. Make. Forge a better world.

 

We Will Be Alright

So they convinced all us turkeys to go for our own Christmas surprise. The keen-eyed chef, the kitchen smelling nice. Everything is fine. Harness a slogan to promise the earth, tub-thump and grain-shake lies. A hearty laugh is a sharpened knife. Feast the corrupt, feed the money-whores. Kick out your friends, go tear off reason’s door. Let loose the zombie Brexit hordes. Despite it all we will be alright. New opportunity in death and fire. Rules are for losers, we can sell the sky. Out-source decency, foresight, and doubt. We will ride the storm out. We will be alright.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2020. Powered by Redroom Records & Romangie Theme.