Life At Tether's End

by Andy T.

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    Complete with biography by Richard Cubesville and fully Illustrated lyrics with artwork by Andy T. and Bambi Eastfield. It's a beautiful package released on the recently reactivated All The Madmen record label.

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about

credits

released July 28, 2012

Recorded At Studio 1in12 Bradford - September 2011
Engineered By Bri Doom
Produced By Andy T. and Bri Doom

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license

all rights reserved

about

Andy T. Todmorden, UK

Anarcho-Punk Poet/Artist. Released material on Crass Records over 30 years ago. Still writing, performing and recording on the newly re-activated All The Madmen Records.

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Track Name: A Pound In The Box
01. A Pound In The Box

Put a pound in the box, to ease your conscience
Put a pound in the box and pretend you care
Put a cross in the box, choose your oppression
Put a cross in the box and pretend you care

One nation, under constant surveillance
The powers that be, demand our compliance
Pacified and sedated, by the life that you choose
All the pleasure’s created, to soften your views

If you choose to live, within your comfort zone
Subdued and relaxed, in your beautiful home
Seduced and protected, by the treasures you buy
To work and consume, till the moment you die

Put a pound in the box, to ease your conscience
Put a pound in the box and pretend you care
Put a cross in the box, choose your oppression
Put a cross in the box and pretend you care
Track Name: Are Your Children Revolting?
02. Are Your Children Revolting?

All the children of the revolution
Can you tell me what has occurred?
It appears that insurrection
Has now become a dirty word

I wonder where all the anger went?
Maybe it’s gone to anger management
Maybe bought off with a lifestyle choice
All the latest gadgets to silence your voice

Whatever happened to the counter culture?
Where did all the protesters go?
Did we really believe in No Future?
Nearly thirty five years ago

Where is the noise of youthful resistance?
Are they screaming in the darkness still?
The barricades have long since come down
The brain deadened and the spirit killed

Now they’re dancing to a corporate drumbeat
Separated by fashion into disparate tribes
Will they stand up and try to make a difference?
Or hold out their hands to accept the bribes?
Track Name: Hand Made Grenades and Letter Bombs
03. Hand Made Grenades and Letter Bombs

Words explode like letter bombs inside the listeners mind
Words to spike the consciousness of those deaf, dumb or blind
Words can’t cripple, kill or maim, though words can brutalise
Words can hurt you just the same, when they take you by surprise
Words collide in poetic form like virtual stun grenades
Words can slide up & down your spine like shiny razor blades
Words enable some respect while they shatter tiresome dreams
Words disable intellect as they appear to be not what they seem
Words express indifference devoid of the desire to change
Words impress insignificance destroy the strained or strange
Words can brighten darkened moods from subliminal to absurd
Words wouldn’t choose to hurt you after all they’re only words
Words wouldn’t choose to hurt you after all they’re only words
Track Name: Finger Pointing
04. Finger Pointing


When their fingers point at you,
Do you know what you will do?
Will you fight for your beliefs?
Or turn away, go back to sleep
Will you try to stand your ground?
Or crawl away without a sound

When their fingers point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?
When their fingers point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?

When their rifles point at you,
Do you know what you will do?
Will you fight for your beliefs?
Or turn away, go back to sleep
Will you stand up and be counted
Will you end up stuffed and mounted?

When their rifles point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?
When their rifles point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?

When their missiles point at you,
Do you know what you will do?
Will you fight for your beliefs?
Or turn away, go back to sleep
Will you still believe in revolution?
Or slit your wrists in disillusion

When their missiles point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?
When their missiles point at us,
Will you go quietly without a fuss?
Track Name: Who Chases Me?
05. Who Chases Me?

The first thing that I ever learned
Apart from how to kill
Was payday is on Friday
And shit don’t roll uphill

The fighting and the screaming
The bruising and the tears
They never really fade away
They stay with you for years

The sound of one hand clapping
Is a cold hard slap in the face
It seems there is no stopping
The decline of the human race

The dreams we have as children
Can so easily turn to dust
We must learn to break the cycle
With love and peace and trust
Track Name: Wooden Curtains
06. Wooden Curtains

In the land of wooden curtains, by the burnt out panda car
The future is uncertain, though it's certain to be hard

Blue sky thinking’s clouded over, by flying bottles and bricks
Where our hope springs eternal and fucks off down the M6

It's a nineteen seventies revival night
The past was grim, the future’s shite
If you walk through the valley at night alone
Don't be surprised if you never get home

Unemployment and redundancy are on the rise again
The mortgage companies murder, with the stroke of a fountain pen

Fascists in the council chambers, with suits and ties and power
And England's green and pleasant land is once more turning sour

We'll fight them on the beaches and in the Town Hall square
We'll teach them that free speech is for all of us to share

They'll target the weakest ones first,
Like all the bullies do
When you're convinced it's not your fight,
That’s when they'll come for you

It's a nineteen seventies revival night
The past was grim, the futures shite
If you walk through, the valley at night alone
Don't be surprised if you never get home
Don't be surprised if you never get home
Don't be surprised if you never, ever get home
Track Name: Get The Addict Habit
07. Get the Addict Habit

While the papers talk of hippies using dope and LSD
There’s a far more dangerous pusher & he’s got a PHD
He’s writing out prescriptions to cure all kinds of ills
His answer to all life’s problems is a little jar of pills

His addicted patients stagger like zombies for another fix
Doctor death obliges with his little black bag of tricks
When the pressure gets too great & you just can’t seem to cope
Let the Doctor blow your mind, cos not only hippies take dope
Track Name: Freshly Skinned
08 : Freshly Skinned

A hundred bodies wrapped in leather
A hundred accessories to cold bloodied murder
No screams of pain, no carcass at your feet
Just a piece of clothing to satisfy your needs
You wear with pride an animal’s skin
Warm living flesh, now decent and clean
Is it so essential when alternatives exist?
Will your traditional uniform be so badly missed?
Would you wear the skin of a dead relation?
Would you carve up the corpse of your own mother?
All life is equally precious
But you’d rather see animals suffer
What makes you so high and mighty?
That you can kill for the sake of a coat
How would you feel if the butchers knife
Was slicing through your fucking throat?
Track Name: Vivisection
09. Vivisection

In the Second World War the Nazi’s
Performed experiments on the Jews
With the progress of medical science
They’ve found a different species to use

Scapegoats of today’s mad scientists
Are monkeys, mice, dogs and rabbits
Their bodies are poisoned by deadly chemicals
To test mankind’s bad habits

No anaesthetic is given to relieve the suffering
Death is the only escape from the pain
Force fed substances like bleach and alcohol
Cruelly tortured for financial gain

In secret laboratories with government aid
Millions of innocent creatures die
For all this pain we are none the wiser
You choose not to hear when the poor buggers cry

No one’s allowed to inspect the tests
A blanket of lies covers up the truth
The authorities argue their crimes are humane
They never produce the proof

This country’s leaders condone the slaughter
What else will they choose to allow?
Tomorrows mice will be you lot
So fight for the animals now
Track Name: Evacuated Innocents
10. Evacuated Innocents

She never lived, she never loved
She never even tried
She kept the pain from childhood
Buried deep inside

Such things were rarely mentioned
Just forgotten or ignored
Pretend they never happened
Remember there’s a war

Evacuated children
Far away from home
Temporary families
Very much alone

Preyed upon by wicked men
To whom they had no ties
Too confused to understand
Too young to realise

Hide beneath the bedclothes
Just hope he goes away
Make sure your friends from down the road
Don’t come around to play

Returning home to family
Life continues on
No one ever realised that
Anything was wrong

A life of failed relationships
Begin now to make sense
Her whole existence tainted by
The theft of innocence
Track Name: Sing A Happy Song
11. Sing A Happy Song

I’ve been asked to write a happy song
To make you smile, maybe sing along
Uplifting words to get you through the day
To drive your feelings of despair away

So I’ve tried to write a happy tune
To raise your mood despite the gloom
Paint pity pictures in your mind
To help you leave the world behind

A simple, cheerful ditty for the ears
The message is banal but always clear
That nothing nasty ever comes to pass
Through rose tinted shatter-proof glass

A joyous celebration of this life
Where everything is nearly always nice
Prejudice & hatred have no place
If you wear your regulation happy face

Nothing here to fear or cause alarm
No one wants to wish you any harm
Hypnotic beats to keep you in the pink
Dancing means you do not have to think

So I’ve tried to write a jolly song
To kill the demons, right the wrongs
Words and pictures help disguise
Pain & sorrow behind your eyes

Yes I’ve tried to write a happy song
It’s not hard but something’s wrong
I feel as though I’m cheating myself
Leave the happy songs to someone else
Track Name: The Casual Racist
12. The Casual Racist

The casual racist standing at the bus stop
Texting stupid jokes to all his mates
He thinks he’s being clever, being cool
Spreading little messages of hate

The casual sexist sitting on the bar stool
Lustily leering after the barmaids ass
Thinks his friendly banter is just harmless
She blankly smiles and pours another glass

There’s nothing casual about your prejudice
A vicious sense of humour, no one’s hurt
Intolerance is not a laughing matter
Treating human beings just like dirt

The casual fascist standing right beside you
Starts conversations ‘I’m not racist but...’
He’d join the EDL but he can’t spell it
If you can’t say anything nice, keep it shut
If you can’t say anything nice, mate, keep it shut
Track Name: Sophie Lancaster
16. Sophie Lancaster

How big and hard and tough do you need to be?
To kick a little girl in the face
How out of your tiny mind do you have to be?
To kick a little girl in the face
How callous and depraved have you become?
To kick a little girl in the face
How twisted up with hate do you have to be?
To kick a little girl in the face

Publicly ridiculed for looking different
Verbally abused for looking different
Physically attacked for looking different
Beaten and killed for looking different

Do you ever get used to the jibes and the insults
The petty name calling and the torrents of abuse
Even though you understand the childish games
Narrow minded ignorance is not an excuse
They gather in gangs for safety in numbness
Spitting out poison from nasty little minds
Picking on those who appear to be different
Vile prejudice burns while hatred blinds
An everyday occurrence not headline news
Only taking notice when a young girl dies
Things only change when you’re paying attention
It doesn’t go away when you close your eyes

How big and hard and tough do you need to be?
To kick a little girl to death
How out of your tiny mind do you have to get?
To kick a little girl to death
How callous and depraved have you become?
To kick a little girl to death
How twisted up with hate do you have to be?
To kick a little girl to death

Publicly ridiculed for looking different
Verbally abused for looking different
Physically attacked for looking different
Beaten and killed for looking different
Track Name: Wasted Life
14. Wasted Life

I’m numbing my senses, pumping shit in my veins
My heads so full of glue, I’m not left with many brains
I’m too much of a coward, to try and slash my wrists
So I kill myself slowly, getting stoned and pissed
I can’t face reality, in this god awful place
But I’ll end a wasted life, with a smile on my face
Track Name: No Freedom In Escapism
15. No Freedom in Escapism

Where’s the revolution when you’re too stoned to stand?
How do you pose a threat to the governments plan?
When the mind numbing substance, takes a hold on your activity
Your so called peace is just selfish escapism, drowning in apathy
Show me the freedom, you possess, the freedom to vegetate, to die
As your vanity finally consumes you, can your life be justified?
Track Name: I Still Hate Thatcher
16. I Still Hate Thatcher

Modern politicians are faceless drones
With very few obvious redeeming features
Insipid civil servile test tube clones
Slithering around like spineless creatures

The blurred definitions of right and left
Only serve to smudge the party lines
Absurd grey robots ideologically bereft
Make me hanker after harsher times

I despise George Bush, I never trusted Blair
When it comes to David Cameron, I’m a little bit scared
But I still fuckin' hate Thatcher
I still fuckin' hate Thatcher

Thatcher wants a state funeral,
With a twenty-one gun salute
So you bring yours and I'll bring mine,
Tucked inside a mourning suit

A bus load of musicians,
Will be lining up to play
To entertain the millions,
Who’ll be dancing on her grave

I despise George Bush, I never trusted Blair
When it comes to David Cameron, be a little bit scared
But I still fuckin' hate Thatcher
I still fuckin' hate Thatcher

For the Unions, the squaddies and the unemployed
For all the lives that bitch destroyed
For all the souls she bought and sold
The miners left out in the cold

Close communities torn asunder
All the people she had murdered
All the victims of corporate greed
Prisoners of conscience never freed

For all she did and all she said
We should all rejoice when Thatcher’s dead
Track Name: Hoodies
17. Hoodies

The Streets are full of hoodies,
Vicious scallies and thieves
At least that’s what the headlines,
Would have us all believe

They vilify the youth,
The way they’ve always done
They distort the truth,
To stop you having fun

Too old & bored for youth clubs,
Too young and skint for pubs
Prime candidates for asbos,
Mindless violence and drugs

Condemned upon the scrapheap,
Before they’re out their teens
An endless source of fodder,
To feed the war machines

They keep old England frightened,
Keep Joe public off the streets
It justifies them putting,
Fewer Bobbies’ on the beat

Closed Circuit TV’s cheaper,
And the camera never lies
Recording all your movements,
With prying spying eyes

So don’t go outside, stop indoors,
A prisoner in your own home
Find imaginary friends on the internet,
So you’ll never feel alone
Track Name: The War On Terror
18. The War on Terror

The war on terror is a war on freedom
Thought crime will land you in prison
Greater powers to arrest you on suspicion
Ordinary people treated with derision

Hatred and mistrust of your family and friends
Suddenly your neighbours are strangers again
Suspicion burns a hole in the fabric of this land
Kneejerk condemnation when we fail to understand

Division of community is nearly complete
Fear and hatred right up your street
Gagged and bound up nice and neat
Dragged out, ground up beneath their feet

On behalf of the state we’re treated all the same
Fitted up, banged up, never seen again
On behalf of the state we’re treated all the same
Fitted up, banged up, never seen again

You could be on the list of potential terrorists
Easily susceptible to extremist views
Detained without charge for six weeks of questioning
Or shot through the head on the ten o’clock news
Track Name: Weary Of The Flesh/Chamber Of Horrors
19. Weary of the Flesh

You disguise the truth with pretty names
A living thing is now a joint of beef
You shift the blame but you can’t hide
Your sickly smile, your blood stained teeth
You are the butcher, not the man in the shop
But you haven’t got the guts to kill your meal
If you saw the pain it would make you sick
Just think how the animals feel…..
Just think how the animals feel!


Chamber of Horrors

The rouge on your cheeks, is the blood of innocent creatures
Your mascara is charred flesh, burnt to enhance your features
Your lipstick is a severed limb, removed by the scientists’ knife
Your beauty is the worst kind of ugliness
That destroys an animal’s life
In the lab, on a marble slab, its epitaph for all to read
I gave my life for your pretty face
That you so desperately need
Track Name: I Still Hate Thatcher - Extended Version
20. I Still Hate Thatcher - Extended Version

Modern politicians are faceless drones
With very few obvious redeeming features
Insipid civil servile test tube clones
Slithering around like spineless creatures

The blurred definitions of right and left
Only serve to smudge the party lines
Absurd grey robots ideologically bereft
Make me hanker after harsher times

I despise George Bush, I never trusted Blair
When it comes to David Cameron, I’m a little bit scared
But I still fuckin' hate Thatcher
I still fuckin' hate Thatcher

Thatcher wants a state funeral,
With a twenty-one gun salute
So you bring yours and I'll bring mine,
Tucked inside a mourning suit

A bus load of musicians,
Will be lining up to play
To entertain the millions,
Who’ll be dancing on her grave

I despise George Bush, I never trusted Blair
When it comes to David Cameron, be a little bit scared
But I still fuckin' hate Thatcher
I still fuckin' hate Thatcher

For the Unions, the squaddies and the unemployed
For all the lives that bitch destroyed
For all the souls she bought and sold
The miners left out in the cold

Close communities torn asunder
All the people she had murdered
All the victims of corporate greed
Prisoners of conscience never freed

For all she did and all she said
We should all rejoice when Thatcher’s dead
Track Name: Miss Ten Percent
21. Miss Ten Percent

Management will ease the strain
Take the pressure off your brain
Concentrate on being an artist
Go away and get some practice
Leave the business to the pros
Just go out and play more shows
Make more money for the kitty
Another night in another city

Ten percent of the life you lead
Ten percent of the air you breathe
Ten percent of the songs you sing
Ten percent of everything
You’ll never miss, miss ten percent
Until you miss, miss ten percent
You’ll wonder where, the money went
You’ll never miss, miss ten percent

Put your product on the shelves
Want some profit for themselves
When all the fingers take a cut
Then you’re left with, not a lot
Trample friendships with their greed
Sack the ones they cannot bleed
The business prospers once again
Till they’re thrown off the gravy train

Ten percent of the life you lead
Ten percent of the air you breathe
Ten percent of the songs you sing
Ten percent of everything
You’ll never miss, miss ten percent
Until you miss, miss ten percent
You’ll wonder where, the money went
You’ll never miss, miss ten percent
Miss ten percent, miss ten percent
Track Name: Letter From A Soldier
22. Letter from a Soldier

I've been doing this job now, for fifteen years
I've faced and dealt with, all my fears
You wouldn't pictures of the things I've seen
In high definition on your TV screen

The cost of this war runs into billions
While we're being shot at, by civilians
Women and children, with live grenades
Nobody's planning a victory parade

No heroes welcome for those who make it back
Another coffin draped, in a Union Jack
After all this time, It's patently clear
No one in this country, wants us here

Post traumatic stress, a symptom of this war
Acknowledged by the army, then ignored
Any signs of weakness, psycho analysed
Unfit for duty, good luck and goodbye