260369 Once Upon a Time. As the last sunset of the flower revolution was surrendering into the neon sky, somewhere in Woodhouse there lay safe an egg. Tap tap, tap tap. Silence. Then an almighty crack, a shiny bald head appeared from inside the freckled egg. Very unusual! But never the less a blue eyed spring chick was hatched, born kicking, fighting off the shelf. It was a sturdy but wiry little thing, somewhat like a king. So when it came to his naming mother hen knew it was George. Joyous celebrations carried on right through the wee small hours. As he grew, he had to grow up fast, ‘cos life wasn’t all plain sailing. Well, he weren’t a duck! He got knocked down he had to get straight back up, never a fuss, never complaining. He always he knew he was different. Not that he got any special treatment, more dirty looks from the other chicks. But inside he always had a feeling that something good was going to happen. And so it did…

Probably maybe. They can try, they can try, hold on tight tonight, Get it on, get it on, on, on, on Paint the pictures, rip up the scriptures Lose all those chains wrapped up round your brains Keeping you a prisoner in your own headspace Open a window, just let some fresh air in Start as you mean to begin. And I guess you can teach them a few lessons or two Get it on, get it on, on, on, on Paint the scriptures, rip up the pictures Lose all those brains wrapped up round your chains Keeping you a prisoner in your own headspace Open a window, just let some fresh air in Start as you mean to begin. Keep your chin up, wear no frown, see there’s no need to be feeling down Just laugh at them clowns who haven’t got a clue, un-time and undo Lots of suppression, Smile with a positive expression, And I bet you can teach them a few lessons or two Get it on, get it on, on, on, on Hold on, hold on tight tonight Light shines soul beam Rhythm bounce shape melody Mind vision spirits stimulate Pure heart inspire translate Open channel message connect Body feel roots respect Blood clean clear philosophy Faith hope love and peace

The way I see it we’re all here to be tested But it’s how we react to these tests that makes us who were are Lights are on, nobody home Landscapes of shallow minds stretch out as far as the naked eye can see Oceans of shattered dreams occupy the space we know to be reality As the telephones ring out onto a painted frost of emptiness, Nothingness screams out to be recognised While the hand in the board room shakes and rolls the dice Nobody home, what am I to do? No signal, clean out your gutters and pull up your shutters This tunnel vision point blank ignorance projects in black and white You all don’t receive colour, dazzled by a bright light Always guessing if it’s day or night Cos you can’t define single out never mind separate With a shed full of hate A nonsense vibe sits purchased on the throne Feet under the table made itself right at home Humming songs about suggestion and judgement Muck spreading, concrete, cementing over the cracks You see what one man has the other man lacks What one man has the other man lacks Nobody home, what am I to do? No signal.

You see it was one of those balmy, brain stormy kind of days While minding my own business, floating peacefully, in a rubber bouncing bumbling bubble. Not fairy, high as a kite, you know the brand, You should have seen my face! So as I thought, just to get a little closer I’d switch to infrared triple glazed Cyclops vision Only to find myself turning at the thought, Completely flummoxed, waiting to go to munchy heaven, Kill a bit of time! So as I toil and play for a bit from within my semi-conscious Tropicana gardens, Just to the right centre of me I hear a rusty rustle coming from behind the banana bushes, “Who’s there?” a shady voice cries, “Hide your blushes” Followed by a softer tone saying, “Hello and welcome again” I wouldn’t mind but it’s not even gone half past ten, AM that is, and I’m already peaking with Everest, with all the glory of the day before me. So moving on swiftly to some time later, after some struggle and deliberation, We all decide to take a long earned sunny smiling happy summer vacation. It’s hard graft you know all this climbing, Reclining as I slump effortlessly With one slouch I automatically fall back into the couch With easy feelings, flowing streams, busting rivers, soulful seas, Oceans of emotions rise up and come ashore Sea and stone, I’m stone And I find myself high up on the top shelf A sea and stone, yes I’m stone Rolling before breakfast. Sea and stone, I’m stone You see I find myself high up on the top shelf You see I’m stoned, I’m rolling Stoned before breakfast. Rising, high up on the top shelf “What are you doing sat round in ‘ere for? God it stinks! Why don’t you get off your arse and get a job.”

Greedy jackpot eyes bulge as I feed the devil in the machine Life tranced out clean, out of control My wicked habit spirals on a forever never ending downward slope Slip, slipping sliding. Going, going gone. Now all I want to do is go into hiding, hoping that a big black hole will appear and swallow me up Like Billy Goat’s gruff, cos it’s tough When you’ve just blown your last twenty When only half an hour ago you had pockets aplenty But all you’ve got now is jack shit As reality hits you start free falling, feeling dog sick right to the stomach You big daft lomach, where you gonna go now? The money man’s dead Leaving you downright gutted, upright vexed in the head With nought to zero options, cos you’ve used them all up, Still laughing the little bastard demon sniggers As he gives chase burning the last of my angels on stakes With fucked up odds that are always against you In a place where only regret counts the cost, Cos you can’t win what has already been lost. Slot dropping money for shopping Slot dropping till you got nothing Fool and his money are soon parted, Fool and his money. Slot dropping Cos a fool and his money are soon parted, A fool and his money are soon parted, Leave you down, we got it Leave you down, we got it Slot dropping, money for shopping Ride home, ride home

“This young man, great hope for Great Britain at the Olympic Games…” Did you know that the odds of winning the great golden egg race? About 400 trillion to one! Just to reach that big, bouncy piece of sponge Numero uno is a miracle testimonial feat, Arriving chubby checker first, but then flipping back landing on your feet, One touch kicking off a brand new season, lessons in a lifetime, But you see it’s alright to make mistakes If you know that other reasons always expose fakes And the places you have to go to realise where you’ve been Just smile and let the good times begin. Stop feeling sorry, free your mind of worry Stop your crying now Stop feeling sorry, there’s more to life than money So stop your suffering now. (Nice clean start) No slave, no master, pull your own strings, tie your own laces Pack your suitcases for the sunshine beckons She welcomes you with open arms, show off your charms Don’t be shy, just give it a try Cos you have nothing to lose in Toulouse everything to gain After the rain washes away your dregs of the past Free at last Stop feeling sorry, free your mind of worry Stop your crying now Stop feeling sorry, there’s more to life than money So stop your suffering now. One life, one winner, champion swimmer One life, one winner, champion swimmer (Unbeatable, unstoppable, unbelievable, it’s remarkable, it’s truly magnificent This boy wonder has smashed all the great records of all time He has reached the impossible, he is a true champion One life, one winner, champion swimmer) Stop feeling sorry, free your mind of worry Stop your crying now Stop feeling sorry, there’s more to life than money So stop your suffering now. 7. TIME TRAVEL If the vision is in the time then surely the mind can travel Time travel, unravel knots tying you up In a past backdraft, Blowing candles out on your bright future Turn and face the wall, cemented in pain Gather strength in the foundations of love Nothing to lose, life is to gain Find weakness in the hand that laid the brick of hate Cultivate open space sow fresh seed of hope In the garden of your conscience wipe the slate clean And recognise where you’ve been Chop down the roots of ignorance, Institutions, nominations of systems Installed to maim and blind, cripple innocent souls abused formula Generate create mass genocide in ego visions of power Evil will not succeed in this time, for truth will split the seed for man denied himself, Twisting his tongue to remain silent, two thousand years undone

If the vision is in the time then surely the mind can travel Time travel, unravel knots tying you up In a past backdraft, Blowing candles out on your bright future Turn and face the wall, cemented in pain Gather strength in the foundations of love Nothing to lose, life is to gain Find weakness in the hand that laid the brick of hate Cultivate open space sow fresh seed of hope In the garden of your conscience wipe the slate clean And recognise where you’ve been Chop down the roots of ignorance, Institutions, nominations of systems Installed to maim and blind, cripple innocent souls abused formula Generate create mass genocide in ego visions of power Evil will not succeed in this time, for truth has split the seeds for man denied himself, Twisting his tongue to remain silent, two thousand years undone

Love again, love again Why won’t you, why won’t you talk to me Love again, love again Open your heart Love again, love again If you can find it in your fragile heart to live and forgive Then the healing process can begin to sort out the particles Pick up the pieces of your troublesome past, Leaving hate and bitterness where they belong, Outside in the cold Envious of your present warmness, As the fire glows the night becomes luminous But you know, it takes time to readjust, 360 degrees to twist whole again Can you love without prejudice? Love without prejudi. Love again, you can learn to love, Love again

Don’t you ever give it a rest? Listen, this is my story but let me stress, I’m not out to impress Slag off the way you dress I’m just telling you how it was Hands up, I’m the first to admit Bold as brass come to mention it No, but seriously I strongly feel sometimes, some things have to be said Especially if you come round our way, We sprouted way too fast, old before our time Adolescent granddads Caught up in the shackles of petty crime Slash shredded lines, no communication Ziltch education. In our house discipline was a word that only existed in a dictionary we never had Too busy sniffing after gailies, trying to emulate me dad Yeah, cos I knew it all, little boy with a man’s head Tricky man a darter, grass and you’re dead. Got more front than quarry mount clock Hate school cos all the teachers bash and mock “You’ll never add up to nothing, you’re just a waste of space! Gadge breath in yer face, can you smell it? Audrey, now spell it L.O.S.E.R” Just a loser, just a loser. Loser, well I’m thinking on the boil, what a jumped up little tosser, Only got time for the perfect world kids With their Marks and Sparks posh wallpaper clip books Proper good looks, all star Jocelyn Brown nose wannabees, Calm down, calm down Fuss, fuss, always fussing Single file, single file, one at a time, one at a time Strutting paranoid, moving through studentville With a wet, frisky April breeze blowing blossoms off trees Soaking his spanking clobber. Have you seen the state of his strides? Good job he’s got a pair of stones in an old pump bag keeping his stash Home and dry from prying eyes who only need to see On a see to be seen basis, His heart thumps, ten to the dozen. It’s like Wacky Races As a mushka on a giant flying pot bellied pig towing a broken down spaceship Which ran into Tommy Kipper’s stunt double apparently. Any trouble, any bother, don’t mess about with all these pranksters Just come and see the gangster, he’ll sort it out for you Watch your ass he’s a super grass Not you Tommy, not you Tom Snitching snake in the grass Better watch your ass he’s a super grass Don’t mess with the wily terrier Snitching snake in the grass Better watch your ass he’s a super grass Mang shice mush, Mushkra is a janing

This one that is all too rare, Pain and happiness. “What time is is?” It’s just gone 3 in’t morning and I just can’t seem to switch off, on, off again Half asleep, zombified, drifting into the mind dazzling twilight As the well done crispy sunburst yellow moon slides cool, calm and collected, Cunningly, sneaking up tip toe, tip up on toe, Hidden behind the silver lined, psychedelic mystic cloud And then, just like magic, in three solid block movements It body pops itself back out again. So as I start, may I begin to recollect Recalling all kinds of shades, shape and colours Tinting visuals manifesting, then projecting ready to go pictures Advertising ‘What should be a real life?’, then asking, “What is a real life?” Featuring full length slapstick Mickey Mouse versions Of never seen before raw, uncut footage Once stolen, but now recovered. This one that is all too rare, Pain and happiness. My generation, my generation Meanwhile, as the day breaks instantaneously with a sparrow’s fart The last piece of the jigsaw flies by, floating Gently, softly, dropping perfectly into place like falling leaves completing their cycle Knowing not to chase, but just naturally accepting their fate. From generation to generation This one that is all too rare, Pain and happiness.

Clash, clash, crashing, ear bashing Mashing spoon bending thoughts fusing, sonic steering Pioneering, soul searching Sending out signals See what mingles with the dingles Extracting, interacting, contacting Getting ready for the great escaping Ground breaking move Dancing, prancing, rhythms enhancing I’ve got no money Looks like I’ll have to go and make some Just another ten pound draw In writing to inspire, to create Stop right there, hesitate “Just take a breather” Let’s start marching, speed walking, day dawning Sun rising, heart warming, birds calling out my name, Melody singing, St. Mark’s bells ringing Tones selecting, then engaging, energy surging Juice sapping at light speed, eyes gawping, body yearning Must be bedtime What did you say? I said it must be bedtime. Still I’m not sleeping, John nod is at the end of my nose peeping, Quantum leaping, Lapping, slapping, mapping out the quickest journey home Routing, touting, shovelling, bustling Bumping into mushrooms Witnessing just another UFO sighting Very enterprising You know it’s so enlightening to see the number 51 Destination accomplished, mission complete “Has anybody got any tomazis?” Must be bedtime “Get a fucking job you understand All you ever do is party, Every night all you’re doing is party, party.”

George Sproule, Vocals Sam Hobbs, Drums, Percussion, Synthesizer Mark Creswell, Guitar, Bass Bob Birch, Hammond/Rhodes Matthew Bourne, Cello Emily Levy, Vocals Produced, Mixed and Engineered by Sam Hobbs and Mark Creswell Lyrics by George Sproule Music by Sam Hobbs and Mark Creswell

Who are you? If you have no direction, how do you find your way? If you have no voice, how do you have your say? If you have no morals, how do you keep your dignity? If you have no soul, how do you recognise your true identity? If you have no love for yourself, how do you embrace your sisters and brothers? If you have no respect, how are you received by others? If you have no vision, then what is it you’re really seeing? If you have no faith then I guess you’ve got nothing to believe in.