LYRICS:

PARTICK NIL. phone the help desk. snowstorms slow our progress. pants to the public houses smell like rubbish. ride round on the underground. does nothing but compound our problems. in these places, finding traces of the spaces we once loved. six nations can’t distract me from govan station or your hackneyed attempts to win new supporters are lacking. we’ll be heading home, cap in hand. stoned in the valley sure beats egged in the alley. former glories overshadow promotional stories. hey mate, don’t you rate my pal? we only meant to take the piss. our good intentions never mentioned the conventions we hold dear. jags making progress. getting shit on the train from the toothless sound of rails. politically infested trails. I never thought it’d turn out this way.

CAROLINA! carolina carolina quietly. carolina carolina fall asleep on me. a landmark where we found each other. an island in a market friendly sea. you dropped the names. I ducked for cover. I watched you prune your family tree. I know you’re from another region. full of giant panted legions. and so if for no other reason. carolina? I wanna, I wanna, I want to waste your time. there are some letters you want to see. I’m unsure if they’re dj or jd. but I know they’re not m or e. carolina? I wanna, I wanna, I want to waste your time. carolina, I want to pass you by.

LE PROJET CITRON. ten thousand lemons don’t make a renegade. ore don’t fade. the juice our stainless brethren produce. their hands are clean but they have nails under their nails. the course our father figures endorse. they love machines but they have sales under their nails. the plan: our needs belabor the man without the dream. but they have pins under their skins. the toil, the opportunity spoiled without machines. but they have nails under their nails.