1. |
I'm A Plebian
01:29
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My hair's a mess and I can hardly speak
I've broken both my arms because I'm weak
I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian
I'm an imbecile, a cretin and a dreg
My eyes are closed and I've broken both my legs
I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian, I'm a plebian
I live in my plebian house
I breathe through my plebian mouth
I eat with my plebian hands
And I've formed my own plebian band
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2. |
Your Trash
02:02
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3. |
Art Is Revolting
00:51
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Tippexing out art world lies
Pissing in Charles Saatchi's eyes
Spitting on Carl Andre's bricks
STOP REWARDING VIOLENT DICKS
Art is revolting, art is revolting
Your patronage is just insulting
Art is revolting, art is revolting
Galleries could not give two fucks
Praying that the market unfurls
Canonising the Guerrilla Girls
Selling off all Picasso's crap
And dumping the profits in an ARI's lap
Art is revolting, art is revolting
Your patronage is just insulting
Art is revolting, art is revolting
Galleries could not give two fucks
Art is revolting, art is revolting
Your patronage is just insulting
Art is revolting, art is revolting
It's not only George who is a cunt
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4. |
Binman
01:06
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5. |
Skip To The Middle
02:11
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If you want more energy
And you're not what you're supposed to be
And all the nipples stand up in your mind
If you have low salary
The cast is not the scenery
And you're not meaning to be bright
If you want to stop
If you want to quit
If you want to leave
Skip to the middle
Skip to the middle
If there is no sympathy
For plastic mind surgery
And all the wrecked bums play golf in your eyes
If you have a sock to pee
The last one that you left for me
[?????]
If you want to stop
If you want to quit
If you want to leave
Skip to the middle
Skip to the middle
If the raspberry greens to bleed
The fist does refuse the beat
And shouts out to have his own right
Fist continues to be offbeat
And rants its own flat in greek
And now thinks aobut the might
If you want to stop
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6. |
David On The Beach
01:40
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7. |
Me + Julio
01:20
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8. |
Carsick Carl
02:53
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Carl, have you taken your pill?
If you don't have your medication you're going to get ill
Carl, you're going to be fine
But if we don't leave the driveway now we'll never make it on time
Carl, what are you doing to me?
We've only been gone ten minutes and you need a wee
Carl, just be sick into this bag
If you don't get it out of your system the journey will drag
Carl, what's coming out of your nose?
My upholstery is beige, please watch where your bleeding goes
Carl, can I put the radio on?
Listening to your heaving means my patience is gone
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9. |
Polly Jean Genie
05:05
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They met while squabbling over a discarded plectrum on the floor of Brixton Academy on a bitterly cold night in 2001. As the triangular bit of red plastic left PJ Harvey's fingertips and arced over the bored row of security men, one of them lunged forward with an arm outstretched and collided with the other's shoulder, knocking them both to the floor, rolling around between the sweaty legs, scrabbling to claim the discarded prize like two pigeons fighting over a cigarette butt on the platform at Clifton Hill train station.
They stayed down, and after the crowd had dispersed around them and exited into the night, they were still lying amongst the flattened plastic pint glasses, enthusing on what the songs meant to them, and eventually they decided that they would share the souvenir. On a monthly basis one would post the object to the other across the country, sellotaped to the back of a postcard or folded in between perfumed letter paper.
In 2006 when they were old enough to have a civil partnership, they ceremoniously snapped the plectrum in half. Both pieces were placed in specially designed lockets intended to be worn around their necks forever as a symbol of their love.
When they amicably decided to separate in 2015, and kissed goodbye for the final time at Gatwick Airport, the locket necklaces accidentally clinked together as they leaned forward into each other's mouths, and at the same time, a shudder went through Polly Jean, as she sat with an autoharp in her lap on a stool at Somerset House Studios. She looked down at her pale hands, for some reason expecting them to be streaming with blood, but they were completely dry, completely dry, drier than the leaves of an iceberg lettuce at a Pizza Hut all-you-can-eat salad bar.
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10. |
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