C'n'c-s Mithering Lyrics - Fall

Three days 

Three months 

Three days 

Three months 

A treatise 

A treatise 

To explain these 

First was cash 'n' carry house dance 

In Lancashire they're A 

In King Nat Ltd. empire 

Kwik Save is there 

The scene started here 

Then was America 

Then was America 

We went there 

Big A&M Herb was there** 

His offices had fresh air 

But his rota was mediocre 

US purge, rock 'n' pop filth 

Their material's filched 

And the secret of their lives 

Is... 

All the English groups 

Act like peasants with free milk 

On a route 

On a route to the loot 

To candy mountain 

Five wacky English proletariat idiots 

Californians always think of sex 

Or think of death 

Five hundred girl deaths 

A Mexico revenge, it's stolen land 

They really get it off on 

"Don't hurt me please" 

Rapist fill the TVs 

And the secret of their lives 

Is S.E.X.. 

I have dreams, I can see 

Carloads of negro Nazis 

Like Faust with beards 

Hydrochloric shaved weirds 

[Applause from audience at Cyprus Tavern ] 

This was going to be called crap rap fourteen, 

but it's now Stop Mithering. 

The things that drain you off and drive you off the hinge. 

Boils, dirty socks, the ceilings collapse. 

The Sunday morning loud lawn mower, 

the upstairs Jewish girl damn hoovering, with valium cig 

withdrawal. 

She wants communal, fluent flat household. 

I want privacy. 

The bastard dentist doctors surgery, 

Clip, clop, ring, knock, ring 

Stop mithering*** 

The estates stick up like stacks 

The estates stick up like stacks 

The residents keep wild dogs 

And on that father's bedroom closet top, 

electric blanket boxes 

Surplus jonnies, demob pictures 

To their children they sing 

Stop mithering 

You think you've got it bad with thin ties, 

miserable songs synthesized, or circles with A in the middle. 

Make joke records, hang out with Gary Bushell, 

Join round table. "I like your single yer great!" 

A circle of low IQ's. 

There are three rules of audience. 

My journalist acquaintances, go soft, go places, 

on record company expenses. 

I lose humor, manners become barbed, righteous, don't know it. 

The smart hedonists, same as last verse, allusions with 

H in electronics, on stage false histrionics, 

Corpse mauling dicks, pose to a good film, him, him 

Stop mithering 

I'm not joining conventional rock band. 

The conventional is experimental, the conventional is now 

experimental, 

And is no way noble, and I'm no chock stock thing. 

So stop mithering. 

Engineers save up for cars. 

I try to let down their tyres with matches to make them molten. 

Ouch! Ouch! 

They say I rip off Johnny Rotten 

They always strike for more pay. 

They say "See yer mate..Yeh...see yer mate" 

To their mothers they sing 

Stop mithering 

Even the drowned penile tissue test. 

He hangs out for sex. 

He enters magazine contest. 

White tan horror in the mirror. 

Spotty exterior hides a spotty interior. 

He's not your enemy. 

He's not your enemy, his name is not Harry. 

The secret of Cash and Carry.