'Garageland'
(Strummer/Jones)
Back in the garage with my bullshit detector
Carbon monoxide making sure it's effective
People ringing up making offers for my life
But I just wanna stay in the garage all night
We're a garage band
We come from garageland
Meanwhile things are hotting up in the West End alright
Contracts in the offices, groups in the night
My bummin' slummin' friends have all got new boots
An' someone just asked me if the group would wear suits
I don't wanna hear about what the rich are doing
I don't wanna go to where the rich are going
They think they're so clever, they think they're so right
But the truth is only known by guttersnipes
There's twenty-two singers! But one microphone
Back in the garage
There's five guitar players! But one guitar
Back in the garage
Complaints! Complaints! Wot an old bag
Back in the garage
All night
~ In The Basement ~
rat-a-tat hammer slow machine gun fashion
although i knew one day this was bound to happen
it seems a little early for my car come crashin'
but i swear i heard them
on my last day to repent
they're nailing my coffin together in the basement
i always did think that old church was kind of scary
with His blood on the cross and the empty cemetery
if you could.. would you? say an extra prayer for me
'cause i swear i heard them whispering
and i know why they were sent..
they're nailing my coffin together in the basement
i admit it got me thinkin' just how long it had been
that i had shown concern or remorse for my sin
i hope there's still clockworkings enough to be forgiven
'cause i swear i heard them and i know what they meant
tapping their wrists and nodding in agreement
they're nailing my coffin together in the basement
i'd draw my shades and lock my door if i thought i could hide
from the consequences of the choices that will not be denied
they say no one is perfect but it must be better to have tried
'cause i swear i heard them saying my time was almost spent
while days and nights i blacked out not caring where it went
they were nailing my coffin together in the basement
i know my lot in life was not so bad or hard to handle
all those years to make excuses, now? -no time to light a candle
are those television church bells or are they real - i can't tell
all i can hear is the hammering of nails never bent
meticulous construction under the strictest management
they're nailing my coffin together in the basement
there's still time for you.. not to .. face this lifeless situation
handcuffed by suspicions locked in evil declaration
if you need a glimpse of doom come with me into the kitchen
'cause i swear i heard them - put your ear down to this vent
they say i'm just a tin can, man- all crumpled up and bent
and they're nailing my coffin together in the basement.
all i can hope for now is that others will not follow
footsteps into the quicksand of trash where idols wallow
and the sounds of victory and love - ring forever hollow
like the hammering memory of a letter never sent
or the rainstorm that you witness through a bullet-hole in your tent
i stand before my coffin - all alone... in the basement.
~ the Armadillo Rekkons ~ May 2010
