1. |
Smith Williams Jones
03:32
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Spreading ink and wasting it,
On hollow words and rhetoric,
For songs and words and other shit,
So grandiose and counterfeit.
Seven notes and branding it,
As artistry is making me misanthropic.
Maybe just a little bit.
We swim in the tide with the Smith's, Williams, Jones,
Think like Bukowski and dress like Ramones,
Nameless and aimless, unsung I suppose.
If art is a statement then how would we know?
Just doing our thing like The 'Hearts and The Stones.
Our flag is on fire but our flag's up the pole.
This isn't art, this is just rock 'n' roll.
Stale opinion aftertaste,
And rambled lines of human waste,
But just how long you gonna wait,
For the world to hesitate?
Never ones for faking it,
Between the lines on acetate.
Automatic.
Have another fucking hit.
We swim in the tide with the Smith's, Williams, Jones,
Think like Bukowski and dress like Ramones,
Nameless and aimless, unsung I suppose.
If art is a statement then how would we know?
Just doing our thing like The 'Hearts and The Stones.
Our flag is on fire but our flag's up the pole.
This isn't art, this is just rock 'n' roll.
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2. |
(Give Me) More
03:19
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I need a fix, need a fix,
Like a drip in my arm.
'Til it clicks, 'til it clicks,
Then I'm down on the farm.
In my head, in my head,
Where the visions are real.
'Til I'm dead, 'til I'm dead,
And there's nothing to feel.
More.
More.
Take this pain away, just give me more.
More.
Live to fight another day.
More.
More.
Take my pains away, just give me more.
More.
How could you never wanna feel this way?
I want it loud, want it loud,
'Til my ears bleed
In the crowd, in the crowd,
Where insanity breeds.
Push it hard, push it hard,
Where I need it the most.
To my heart, to my heart,
'Til I'm a god-damned ghost.
More.
More.
Take this pain away, just give me more.
More.
Live to fight another day.
More.
More.
Take my pains away, just give me more.
More.
How could you never wanna live this way?
More.
More.
More.
Just give me more.
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3. |
Eton Education
03:58
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On the posters I defy,
Look the devil in the eye.
Trust me, all the best intentions,
Smoke and mirrors, misdirection.
I got homeless on the streets,
Foodbanks just so kids can eat.
Deadweight for me to screw,
Vote for me, I'm better than you.
Privileged Eton Education.
My second house, your money well spent.
Driving you further down the breadline.
Votes of lies for your government.
With this power I adore,
I will drain you like a whore.
Trusted me, while evil's waiting,
Now the public I'm sedating.
I've got friends I need to pay,
Scandals on me go away.
A kite in a hurricane,
All the girls, they scream my name.
Privileged Eton Education.
My second house, your money well spent.
Driving you further down the breadline.
Votes of lies for your government.
In your head I'm to blame,
But on paper we're the same.
Hate me, look into the mirror,
Our reflections ever clearer.
You know the actions of our dance,
A march of our arrogance.
My world's a better place,
Wipe the smile from my face.
Privileged Eton Education.
My second house, your money well spent.
Driving you further down the breadline.
Votes of lies for your government.
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4. |
Crawl Through Glass
03:47
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Vintage opinions,
Rented words and sentiments,
Are your admission,
To putting faith in men who pay themselves to make you promises.
What you're dismissing,
Is truth to everyone else,
And that ass you're kissing,
Just stares right back at itself.
Too hung on preaching,
Free speech in riddles and clues.
I'd crawl through glass,
Before I'd walk in your shoes.
Hate and deception,
Consume it and regurgitate,
Scars your reflection,
What they misled you to repeat won't leave you when you look away.
Just cowards fighting,
In wars where nobody dies.
They build your bullets,
You fire them in from the right.
Show your true colours,
Your good old red, white, and blue.
I'd crawl through glass,
Before I'd walk in your shoes.
Praise your own frail isms, win a badge to pledge your loyalty.
Vicious mis-readers,
You throw your spite from afar.
Defend your leaders,
Like the good soldiers you are.
I hear you bluffing,
To take your fight to the man,
But while you're marching and proving nothing,
I'm back here burning your flag.
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5. |
Red Top-Aganda
01:52
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Front page headlines, bold and black.
Fears and smears meant to attack,
The ones who have the guts they lack.
Read them slowly, spit it back.
Is this all there is?
The words you misconceive.
Is this all there is?
The bullshit you believe.
Is this all there is?
Your photocopied point of view,
Broken, biased and untrue,
Derivative of those like you,
Who fling their shit like monkeys do.
Is this all there is?
The words you misconceive.
Is this all there is?
The bullshit you believe.
Is this all there is?
Go back to the part where your lines blurred,
I pretended to listen but by attention deferred,
You know you're all hot air and no real words,
If you were in two minds you'd still finish third.
Is this all there is?
The words you misconceive.
Is this all there is?
The bullshit you believe.
Is this all there is?
Life is more than this.
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6. |
Savage Love
05:30
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Pain, wash away,
And come again some other day.
My guilt has built this hell around me.
I'm sick and tired,
Of living on the outside of my soul.
I know her savage love has taken hold.
Broken down, thrown around,
Lying naked on the battle ground.
My tomb consumes this heart of mine.
I'm sick and tired,
Of living on the outside of her soul.
I know her savage love has taken hold.
Girl, crawl away,
And don't come back, just stay away.
Your guilt has built this hell around us.
We're sick, we're tired,
We're living on the outside of our souls.
I know your savage love has taken hold.
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7. |
Roads
06:50
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Days turn blue.
There's a time in our life that we lose,
With our future directions to choose.
Trust in your path and your faithful old shoes,
Dreaming of memories and waiting on news.
I hope your life is beautiful in all that you seek,
I'll always remember, please don't forget me.
Some we let go to miss and to seek,
Or we keep hold to honour and keep,
But when all's told,
The path we choose is paved with fear,
And the promise of gold.
We grow, or we grow up, or we just grow old.
Shifting sands.
You need to fly, I understand.
Go take your roads, go make your plans.
If trouble befalls you, just reach for my hand,
Across city streets, or faraway lands.
We'll move in our parallels, wise or naive,
Never be strangers, we'll stay thick as thieves.
Some we let go to miss and to seek,
Or we keep hold to honour and keep,
But when all's told,
The path we choose is paved with fear,
And the promise of gold.
We grow, or we grow up, or we just grow old.
Standing stone.
Stay still at your fork in the road,
And cling to the past like it's home.
Savour that yesterday, pick at it's bones,
And hold on to memories like rafts in a storm.
Search through the baggage for a story so thin,
That died in it's time, in the place you stand in.
Some we let go to miss and to seek,
Or we keep hold to honour and keep,
But when all's told,
The path we choose is paved with fear,
And the promise of gold,
We grow, or we grow up, or we just grow old.
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8. |
Austeri-Grey
04:23
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Dead leaves and dust at my feet,
Forsaken smiles in the street.
A lifeless town where the minstrels perform for pennies.
Their songs of hope incomplete,
Nearby, the old ladies meet to hum along and agree.
Men share their stories and scars down at The Oddfellow's Arms,
Tales of days gone by when pride was free and work was plenty,
Old fingers yellowed with tar dig deep in old penny jars,
Drink to forget where you are.
Dead spaces.
Crippled communities.
Wallets light,
Belts ever tighter.
Dark places forged by austerity,
Camouflaged in shades of grey, for here there is no colour brighter.
Youth congregating in vain, the poster boys for disdain,
Who speak like yardbirds to each other's mild indifference,
Through urban language they claim their misdemeanours, profane,
With no arrests to their names.
The homeless sleep on the floors in bankrupt businessmen's doors,
And pray for charity and grace that isn't coming.
It wasn't this way before the independent got poor,
Their lifestyle may soon be yours.
Dead spaces.
Crippled communities.
Wallets light,
Belts ever tighter.
Dark places forged by austerity,
Camouflaged in shades of grey, for here there is no colour brighter.
Dead spaces.
Crippled communities.
Wallets light,
Belts ever tighter,
Dark places forged by austerity.
In power and ignorant bliss,
From ivory towers dismissed,
Just pigs in troughs with no cares, fears or obligations.
I walk the concrete abyss,
Skip cracks in pavements and wish for some day better than this.
Dead spaces.
Crippled communities.
Wallets light,
Belts ever tighter.
Dark places forged by austerity,
Camouflaged in shades of grey, for here there are no colours bright.
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9. |
Legion
04:18
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We are legion,
We are many,
But you peddle our soul, like a Guy, for a penny.
Way up high in an ivory tower,
Deaf to our cries,
Paying for flesh by the hour.
We are legion,
We crave plenty,
More dying each day for the sake of a twenty.
You got deep pockets, deep down to the floor,
"Let them eat cake",
But we're crying out for more.
Calls of revolution devoid of all class.
Throw your fist in the air, keep your foot on the gas.
They get bolder as we get older.
There's a cross around their neck, and the devil's on our shoulder.
Awake.
Get up.
Look out.
A pig by any other name.
This is what you smile for.
This is what you lie for.
This is what you kill for.
This is what we die for.
We are legion,
So what now?
Hit another line while you break your vows.
Dressed up like a tart in your Sunday best,
Looking down your nose,
While we suffer for the blessed.
Calls of revolution devoid of all class.
Raise your fist in the air, keep your foot on the gas.
They get bolder as we get older.
There's a cross around their neck, and the devil's on our shoulder.
The devil's on our shoulder.
The devil's on our shoulder.
The devil's on my shoulder.
The devil's on my shoulder.
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Wolves In Alcatraz England, UK
Wolves In Alcatraz emerged from the gritty Stoke-on-Trent underground in late 2017, born of a shared love for raw,
unapologetic music.
Fronted by raw, aggressive guitarist/vocalist Ben Leese, anchored by the thunderous bass grooves of Dave Owen, and driven by the relentless, pounding drums of Luke Morgan, Wolves In Alcatraz are a force to be reckoned with.
... more
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