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lyrics
Hopscotch in to the trees without your say-so
I slide in to the breeze no matter where it blows
Half-measures most of the time, that's not my M.O.
Full measures half of the time, that's more the way to go
(Hot shot, sing-along)
Four-legged hop-along
How soon can you bring it on back for the one, two?
Make room, a junket to the city for a fresh mood
Plough through, creating noise to force my absolution
Without you, couldn’t make it work because we know it takes two
Upstanding most of the time, like a flamingo
Stood up, passed in the line, stolen by dingo
Canary on a landmine, the source of my woe
Stood up, passed in the line, a fucking shitshow
(Hot shot, sing-along)
Four-legged hop-along
Shouting. Rerouting.
Slogging. Still Jogging
I was a shitshow, you're a garden-flower show.
I was a shitshow
supported by 4 fans who also own “Disappearing Act”
A group that I know only too well, I’ve been with them for nearly 30 years; from their Glaswegian basement origins to their current status as Arena band. My enthusiasm for their later output may have tempered somewhat as the mighty ‘Gwai evolved their sound to avoid pigeonholing, but there is nothing better than when they lay waste to a venue via the sheer euphoria of ‘Helicon 1’. They’re still devastating live and, after all those years, THE authority in Instrumental Rock music. Logen Ninefingers