Live Tonight
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Sleaford Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Sleaford Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Mods
Sleaford Sleaford Sleaford Mods
Live tonight
Live tonight
Kick you into the fucking ground I'm not moaning, man
I like the smell of mist on curbs near the beer garden at night
I like the taxis, cars, motorbikes, pedestrian walkways
Well, if the council want a no traffic zone that's sound mate, good with me
I got a latte, on I'm easy, undercover of the night
Telecaster, pirate wanker, high seas, arthritis? Yes, please!
I look like The Michelin man yammed up on antibiotics, nanny
Is that your auntie? What d'yer bring ya fucking auntie for?
What's he gonna do? You ain't got permission to
Unless I give it to you, to open ya mouth
I want you to unplug the till from the canteen upstairs bring it down 'ere
Plug it in and start dishing fucking refunds out!
Live tonight
Live tonight
Live tonight, every night
Live tonight
Darcy de farcy back on the phones in two years
Real music, real chorus, no tears, no fears
I'll end mumbling away in a waiting room about the SAS, mate
Dirty neck barred from The Last Post, the pub next to the church
It's alright, blokes 'n' smokes, it's all god and an eye for an eye
Still some out there who believe in the lie of work 'til you die, of Sundays, apple pie
Death waits for every man!
It ain't like cakes from Birds, you don't get anything for your money back
Pound back on the bottle of pop, I tango and cashed it, yam
Cake tin, your job, my job, laughing
Mate, where we been? Upstairs in the back kid on slop mod
Daft crop, I don't wear crap like that throwbacks alright
If ya doing something decent but I put ya CD on
It's fucking Shakin' Stevens
Live tonight
Live tonight
Live tonight, every night
Live tonight
You know what? Fine
You know where the fucking shop is, don't ya?
Do you want one? Fine!
You know where the fucking shop is, don't ya?
Do you want one? Fine!
You know where the fucking shop is, don't ya?
Do you want one? Fine!
You know where the fucking shop is, don't ya?
Don't ya?
Don't ya?
Don't ya?
No One’s Bothered
We range the view, we do
The dead will fall, no one's bothered
You're trapped, me too
Radiation, no one's bothered
Two carriage on the run out, everybody shake
I got a bloody strop on, I'll tell ya, mate
I might get, I'm done at everything I say
The grass in the dugout always bleeds, mate
Victory for no one, hates as much as bleeds
The dark through the go on, dead up from the knees
And hip shake, shake it, I been around
The grass in the dug out
We range the view, we do
The dead will fall, no one's bothered
You're trapped, me too
Radiation, no one's bothered
Bit tangy, I got spun out
Who makes it all it seems
Hot sauce make out spicy screams
Aloha grass skirt, five-O
Steve McGarrett, I blew all of the dough
We range the view, we do
The dead will fall, no one's bothered
You're trapped, me too
Radiation, no one's bothered
I'll take it, who?
I'll take it down
I'll take it, who?
I'll take it down
I'll take it, who?
I'll take it down
I'll take it down
I'll take it down
I'll take it down
Bronx In A Six
Bronx in six
Bronx in six
He never gave any refunds to his mates
Now he wonders why he sits in big house all on his own
With all his plastic and nice painted plates
Bronx in a six, let's do a one skinner you ten bob
Laughing me head off at the old cows that grazed on grass from the boom
It soon turned its jet on ya face and boom
Burnt you Puff Daddy, it maced ya bastards
Good, I fuckin' laugh like fuck at ya wannabe labels, shoots on location
Cut blokes in stables, ra, ra, ra
All ya Chiney wine tasters die in boxes like the rest of us wasters
Bastard, I fucking tie ya veins 'round ya Vans limited edition
Stitched tongues, bond street like the Von Bondies
He got slapped up right, I wouldn't fuck about with Jack White
You're a jammy slug, missed the salt
A twat with nine lives
You're a lucky little tit cake, die, die, die
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
I couldn't give a fucking shit what you think about me, cunt
What ya saying now where's ya wife? Ya kids? Ya house?
You ain't got none you silly billy
All gone quiet on the wanker front
Gary Coopers on the clue 'cause he stuck to his guns
Radio edit, oh, it's so nice
Lauren Laverne keeps playing tumbling dice
Just like you with ya Maharishi shoulder bag
Walking the strip like you fucking own the path
You wonder why you got no mates?
You pretend to be proud of ya own culture
Whilst simultaneously not giving two fucks about ya own culture
What culture? Fuck culture, the blueprint for all control
On the dole, money monk, the monastery's faint flicks of reference
Paint a vague idea, a pound in the fruity
Fuck lolly on that scale you cunt, ya mugged
The money monks saying it's prays on bank books
Bronx in a six
A single skinner how's tricks
Bronx in a six
A single skinner how's tricks
I knocked ya shit vase over one night
I think you was boring women, you slag off about some buying trip to Hanover, alright
Lobbing out the posh nuts and fucking weird fruit as some appetizer
Clean white tiles, a view to the garden, a room with a poo
I nicked all ya takings and ya fucking mates coke too
Bringing women 'round then bragging about the conquest
With ya pot belly Helmut Lang white vest
Autumn, winter 2002 mind fest
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
Bronx in a six
A single skinner, how's tricks?
Silly Me
And then the crap kicks in
Makes everything go thin
Lost out, square one grout
Weather bangs on my door
Experts come out, the dud work
Chirping on about, ya music moves
You run a crap club in Brum, you lose
I won, I won
Silent dreams are a blag on time
They get away with the worse crimes
You fall fast in a void of pain
Only to remember that you still remain
Death defying voices die
Ain't no beacon in the sound guy
You fall fast in a void of pain
Only to remember that you still remain
Still remain
Still remain
Silly man, don't win, he's got a gob on him
He talks about my life in strife, why?
He doesn't know me, or my wife, or kid
He needs to shut his lid
I got belly pork sliding off me
Choose the menu and got blanked by you
Silly me
Silly you
Silly me
Silent dreams are a blag on time
They get away with the worse crimes
You fall fast in a void of pain
Only to remember that you still remain
Death defying voices die
Ain't no beacon in the sound guy
You fall fast in a void of pain
Only to remember that you still remain
Still remain
Still remain
Still remain
Still remain
The dud work bench is tripped up, ripped up slime
The dud work bench is a ticket and the ticket is mine
The dud work bench is tripped up, ripped up slime
The dud work bench is a ticket and the ticket is mine
All mine
It's mine
All mine
Cunt Make It Up
You cunt make it up
Select deep roads channeled, iced gems but code
What do you buy a ticket for you twat?
You tried to make a point out of what? You sack
I saw ya fucking shit singer
Trying to look like he was studying the bands dinner
Wannabes never change its the wannabe show
And you always wannabe the same, posy shit
And leather jacket, motorbikes from the 50's
You live in Carlton you twat
You're not Snake fucking Plissken
Circus band, ran by circus man
Ran by, no understanding of what it means to write these tunes
On the highway of fucking artistry
Ya shit, ya look like rocket from the crypt
Meets an old codger with one leg, sat in his prefab
Hating men, hating the state that sent the poor cunt to war mate
You're him, you're fucking bleak little worm
Tryna suck the juice out of a tuna tins
You cunt make it up
More green chops, curdle the gravy
Get ya plate in order
No locker, no Davy
A pint and grunt, we won't win with a pint and a grunt
You just gotta look at the horse faced cunt
Am I bring unintelligent? I don't care
Its a war you bastards, slash and despair
Flush 'em out there, ground the family
The servants scream in delight
Tyre, tyre, ya wheels on fire
I'm gunna put a wrestling mask on and stand in front of a mixer
And start hitting it with a ding dong
Resort to gimmick, write for the...
And live on me own in a knackered cottage in Limerick
Kate Bush did it, she's great
Music for people with a bit of extra money, mate
I'm fighting off comedy mods, Les Dawson sods
You cunt make it up
More green chops, curdle the gravy
Get ya plate in order
No locker, no Davy
You cunt make it up
You cunt make it up
More green chops, curdle the gravy
Get ya plate in order
No locker, no Davy
You cunt make it up
You cunt make it up
You cunt make it up
Faces To Face
Face to faces
Face to faces
Free money, mate
Just fill in the form and if you can't then I can help you
Put yourself in the queue and I'll come out to you
Job rocker, no sweat, passport, national insurance document
Is it right to analyze in a general sense the capital machine
Its workings and what they mean
Passive articles on political debate
Its implications are fucking meaningless, mate
Really we get a hole, fill it up, make it bigger
After about a fucking year throw you back in
This is the nature of everything alive
Kill yourself trying to crawl out the dive
Everyone spits at you, even your wife
No skunk, I need to be pissed up to smoke that shit
You cunt
Face to faces
Face to faces
Face to faces, alive
Face to faces
New build, new bricks
New methods, old tricks
Enchantment on the high seas
Nick Clegg wants another chance, really?
This daylight robbery is now so fucking hateful
It's completely accepted by the vast majority
In chains years from now
Who's that tit?
Don't matter who that tit is
He's still with us
In our arses, in our food, in our brains and in our death
In our failure to grab hold of what fucking little we have left
We have lost the sight and in the loss of sight
We have lost our fucking minds, alright
Face to faces
Face to faces
Face to faces, alive
Face to faces
Dead in the air, choking on work air
It's now accepted to fill your role with illness
It's accepted, no vetting
No roles overlooked in times of outside circumstances
The ventilation is laced with hopeful sycophants
On a cash promise dicing with the death of a dead promise
Boris on a bike, quick knock the cunt over
The man of the people is now a man with no temples
Blood falls out of his head like policy
In the fucking U-turn department
The ark carries the rich, each room reserved for the niblet
Lords of the acre, owners and fucking piss-takers
Face to faces
Face to faces
Face to faces, alive
Face to faces
Face to faces
Face to faces
Face to faces, alive
Face to faces
Alive
Face to faces
Arabia
Key markets
Key markets
Key markets
This is the four second warning and it's gonna scab all your lot
It's gonna drag you down to key markets
And shoot you all in the car park, key markets where's the key?
It's calling me, courtesy counter and bleak me
Green coat and isles of nothing, I got the sack
I thought, "Fuck me, didn't do nothing obviously"
Fire engine stations bluffing
Key markets
Key markets
All these freaks on me
Have a nice little dream
In people and what sits
In the area of bits
All these freaks on me
Have a nice little dream
In people and what sits
In the area of zits
You know there's always better bollocks and they ain't me
You always know better bollocks on a busy street
I used to rate 'em and now I don't
I'm just a little moaning arse fart blowing smoke
I'm just a little moaning arse fart blowing smoke
Blowing smoke, oh, dear, well excuse me
Blow it up relentlessly
Curbed hole road is endlessly
All these freaks on me
Have a nice little dream
In people and what sits
In the area of bits
All these freaks on me
Have a nice little dream
In people and what sits
In the area of zits
In Quiet Streets
Chaw, chaw, hmm
Weaning it on my angle, you fucking satanist
Its not a Pentangle, Arthur
No druids, out of date barrel fluids
I go large for a pound and regret it
Greasy, a sharp contrast from my newly adopted organic nice mate
Easy variety is the lie of life, no lonely hearts club
Just a lonely collection of moose-face bastards
Miliband got hit with the ugly stick, not that it matters
The chirping cunt obviously wants the country in tatters
They all do, two arms, two legs, fuck you
Fuck you all, we don't want radio play
We're not fucking Cannon and Ball
Smashed houses, super farts
Ta, ra, ta, ra, la, la, la, shit trousers
That's the angle
That's the angle
Wobbly chops, wobble at you
Firm men snot the chop, I'll dob ya
Arthur, side car mayhem
Cold streets, the hum of the traffic lights
Peddle bikes, do what you want, ya what nat?
Have it dom, I can't eat any more bought in cakes
That taste like koala waste
Eucalyptus, you can fuck off
I pick blackberries near the old contact centre
The smell of late summer in spring, we step, they stop
Advancement is only regarded as a good day in the money shop
Cheques got cashed, nowhere money in nowhere land
That's the angle
That's the angle
That's the angle
Donors appear as hate
But in the old days you had to lead a group of men up a hill
And got 'em shot by the locals mate
Not now, now money murders
We put our souls in nursery for the day
Pick 'em up after work, take 'em home
Try 'n get 'em in bed tucked up before 10 o'clock
Good drones, organic, the new church donation .org
The virtual soap box in the park
You got a mouthful, justify the nouce, spit ya venom
The rulers don't care it's still the 70's
And they laugh at our ugly double denim
We are the wooden horses on wooden race courses at fairs
The top prize is damaged organs and nobody cares
Death before your contact extension, puke on you
They will assist in matters that don't fucking interest you
Keep it going
Mumbling procedure over the phone into ears that are having a seizure
The seizure isn't actually a physical crack
It's your body trying to take itself back
From rules, rules on mules in backpacks
Over mountains that only exist in your mind trap
Crevice, green bins terrace, steak club Tuesday
Gets Ales called Mother of Ruby, five point eight
I ruined my first pint of Abbott getting two of those fucking things in mate
Battered in a blanket of cheap meat, tweet
I been on line since 2006
My login is Jason-wants-to-know-why-he-can't-fuckin'-log-in-Keith
Back office it, pass it on
Fuck 'em, they can sort the problem (problem)
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
The angles right, it's 'ere tonight
Basement revs my dreams
Of bitter minds on seats with pints
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
In quiet streets
Asacha, hmm!
In quiet
Tarantula Deadly Cargo
Alien mum dropping lethal cargo on the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
Alien dad dropping lethal cargo in the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
Alien mum it's hammered me
Its bleak, self destruct the motor mate
It's burnt my beak, beak
Pathway up to medieval churches and night-time runs
Sound checks leave the bar alone it's ruined everyone
I said well alien mum dropping lethal cargo on the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
Alien dad dropping lethal cargo in the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
It's bent it
Pebbles steep streets romance on the high weed
European poos are deadlier than the alien mums, it's true
V for walls Vendetta
Freeze it you can still eat it later
Straight away, just one Cornetto, mate
I said well alien mum dropping lethal cargo on the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
Alien dad dropping lethal cargo in the ship
Tarantula deadly cargo, it's bent it
Rupert Trousers
In and outs cause further debate, sod, ins and outs
In and outs cause further debate, sod, ins and outs
In and outs cause further debate, sod, ins and outs
It's too late, banished, smoking tanks near the burnt parish
Entrance of death, bodies, no life left, apart from yours
28 days later, hospital pants ripped teddies, teddy bear, I want my mummy
Boris and the brick don't seem so egg runny
Boris and brick chiseled faces, delegate full houses
Woolley jumpers, flags from the boat lake parties
Rupert trousers
Rupert trousers
Nicely cut grass, summer late evening
The purr of Audi, cats enjoy sex is like a feature
A boundless toy to use, squeeze the ropes traction
To use feel the breath of life start to lose
Big eyes, endless gasps and sighs
Dark movement, past sycamore trees in the hamlet of Newton or wherever
The separation exists 'cause the money bellies been getting clever
Boris and brick chiseled faces, delegate full houses
Woolley jumpers, flags from the boat lake parties
Rupert trousers
Rupert trousers
Boris and brick chiseled faces, delegate full houses
Woolley jumpers, flags from the boat lake parties
Rupert trousers
Rupert trousers
High five secluded deep cuts, rough deep nuts
Fruit and nuts, blonde bomb shell, road to dead mans creek
Death is speak, English speak, we are dreadful
Ignored by the well spoken, few scraps few broken promises on telly
Idiots visit submerged villages in 200 pound wellies
Spitting out fine cheese made by the tool from Blur
Even the drummers a fucking MP, fuck off you cunt, sir
Die trying whilst the others just live lying
Rife all polish, no strife
Boris and brick chiseled faces, delegate full houses
Woolley jumpers, flags from the boat lake parties
Rupert trousers
Rupert trousers
In and outs cause further debate, sod, ins and outs
Too late
Boris and the brick
Boris and the brick
Boris and the brick
Boris and the brick
Boris and the-
Giddy On The Ciggies
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Rip roaring, mini pony munt, David Gandy, utter
Blue tits, right wing sex tips
Quick, pull it out the bin Alice, let's sell it
Ebay it, rough bars, mixing tunes
We be purple polo lards, broke down on snake pass
You cunt make it up, we be fat ass, fat men, Starbucks anthem
Subway, we're gonna take you down, in the subway at midnight
Two shot mocha, wee-wee, spliff, dogger on the look out
Quick, bang it down, the motorway is our kin kingdom, man
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggies
Giddy on the ciggies
Rip roaring, Minnie Mouse
Little pony munt, David Gandy
Ripped up Tory cunt
I didn't put the call through, I just sat 'ere poisoning feeds
Profanity, fighting off the comedy, working class
It's no longer 1979 you
Photos of Bowies low won't get you a coat like Neil Kinnock's
Oh, really? Humanist as opposed to your shop floor representatives
Oh, no, dirty overall creased machine, I did a Thatcher
I got myself on a business scheme L-T-D
Now look at me comrade, I'm always fucking home for tea
No grovel, punch the card four week notice, notice me
Pissed out me head, key to the city
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggies
Giddy on the ciggies
Rip roaring, Minnie Mouse
Little pony munt, David Gandy
Ripped up Tory cunt
I'll let him go, soul crushed, final warning
Trying to keep a brave face whilst his nose was runnin'
Shoulda trained him properly
If ya don't take to it you get thrown off the lorry
Dusty trail, rusty rockets won't stop it
His palace ain't libel, Hugo Boss took it off, so what?
A celeb-do will not justify you, end of no flash articles
No Flash Harry, no flash articles, I know people care
We all fucking care, but care don't dare, it even scratch the surface
It don't even acknowledge small bumps smooth surface
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggies
Giddy on the ciggies
Giddy on the ciggies
Rip roaring, Minnie Mouse
Little pony munt, David Gandy
Ripped up Tory cunt
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
Giddy on the ciggie
The Blob
[Intro]
The blob
[Verse 1]
Big bubble,s para, E-ticket, look at this bleedy shower
Quick, it got the cinema
Let’s hope it got the two door cinema club too
This blob ain’t bothered it will come after you
I heard it ate ya dad, sod him too
I heard it ate ya tablet and you, not
The slime of a crime, you try and tell me, not
I flick fags like sid snot, totally outrageous
[Chorus]
The blob ain’t bothered
The blob ain’t bothered
The blob ain’t bothered
Its slime don’t care
[Verse 2]
Ready, in service, fuck me its a pity party, Ebola
People in masks, airport, Motorola
Hey motto, tripping over the Toblerones
Near Victoria’s not-very-good-secret, they’re knickers mate
Ice box challenge and all the Aeros, I like mine in a packet
Mint flavour, no zeros, have it culture
Organic, farting in the pool, what a waste
I like a bit of smell, I like a bit of taste
Stroll around the grounds, the garden, every house used to have one
In 1965 now look at us, oh, what a fucking life
[Chorus]
The blob ain’t bothered
The blob ain’t bothered
The blob ain’t bothered
Its slime don’t care
[Outro]
The blob ain’t bothered
Its slime don’t care
It's all about a pity party
Let me do me hair
The blob is a shocker
It’s got a sticky mass
It’s gunna kill the cinema
And smash all of the glass
Run it's the blob
The blob don’t care
Run it's the blob
We’re runnin' out of air
Gnarly, gnarly