Swedish producer of Drain Gang fame drops two beautiful tracks maybe teasing a lager release. The glitzy keys provide a shiny modern feel whilst the trademark distortion keeps Whitearmour grounded and raw. I love most of what DG puts out there and this is no different.
Minerva's cowell
i occasionally feel nestled
under the wing of minerva's owl
i frequently feel like the barnet
rested on the head of simon cowell
a purposeless trim
with no real stylistic direction
parallels drawn
from my own knack for invection
“it’s a no from me”
said cowell masking his erection
wish i could cut loose this sensitive wanker detection
fiona bruce
I wish i could kiss fiona bruce on the lips
they’d most likely be dry
i’d most likely cry
I’d twiddle my thumbs
and tell that i'm so shy
I’d tell her she’s pretty
and seems very wise
tell her she looks better with brown hair
cus it matches her eyes
She’d tell me that she’s a vegetarian
I’d say that’s not a surprise
I’d say you and your husband
need to cut ties
she’d tell me i’m a small and fat man
Whilst she looks in my eyes
I’d say ‘Fiona, that’s rude’
She’d say ‘look at your belly!’
I’d say ‘I’m sorry fiona, you are off the telly’
reply guy
he wakes up late
he rolls out of bed
he shares a guardian article he aint fuckin read
one about homelessness
one about austerity
all coming from a place of total insincerity
he buries his head
from his bills and from his rent
special brew and sterling dual
are now a part of his scent
he avoids eating and washing
to reduce financial dent
he has self confinement down to an art
online illusions alluding he’s smart
he waits for days to end
but they never really start
adrian chiles
Might get a plane to
Lesser antilles
Might spit in the face
Of Adrian Chiles
Fat One Show muppet
I'm sure he’s from brum
I’ll run up on The One Show
Concealing a gun
I’d shout
“Adrian, you cunt, get down on your knees!
Christine Blakely, you look lovely
Can you kindly leave please?”
I’d ask Adrian questions
Like why’s he’s so smug
Then smash an ashtray off the side of his mug
The producers would stand
And give me a round of applause
And thank me for acting on this oso noble cause
Found out he hasn’t been on The One Show
For about ten years
I’d still drag out of Costa
By his big fucking ears
Screaming in his face
“Why aren’t you on tele anymore?!?!”
Dragging him across the coffee shop floor
He’d say
“I do a bit of radio on BBC 2”
I’d say
“Listen here Adrian, ya gunna get slewed”
He’s alright Adrian
If I’m totally honest
But if I could drive
He’d be straight on me bonnet
fat lazy dick head
fat lazy dick head
Im stinking of weed, booze and fast food
I don’t know what are the protocols?
Ate me tea in bed last night
Got mayo on my balls
I wake up and go downstairs
Think i got ketchup in me hair
Ripped all me clothes
Smoked all me fags
Shit myself on the kitchen chair
I blew my nose
Out comes pinger dust
All red and a bit of white
Just like my boxers
All blood and a bit of shite
Ate a bag of skips
As soon as i woke up
2 bits of hovis
Booze needs to get soaked up
After me cuppa
I'm gonna have to throw up
My mucous membrane
My jugular vein
My abdominal pain
I'm a fat lazy dick head
Hungover again
Train Goth
There's a goth on the train
but not one of the proper ones.
He's not wearing a long black trench coat
or eye make up
or any sort of jewellery.
He's wearing alcoholic jeans
frayed at the bottom,
some puggy white airwalk hi tops,
an early 2010's Liverpool shirt,
all topped by a long greasy barnet.
His baccy pouch is cheap like his outfit
fumar mata on the side
his pouch has more colour than his outfit
Spanish baccy on the snide
even if I was this mans dentist
I wouldn't ask him to open wide
This greasy, arrogant goth
that's probably smelly
just talks about work
and talks about telly
your old football shirt
just sticks to your belly
please get off at next stop :)
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