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| DECEMBER 2001 |
| WELCOME TO THE CHEAP SEATS (MUSCUTT) Welcome to the theatre won�t you take your seats right over here your majesty? Sit down to see the show you�ve been looking forward to for months But when the curtain raises and you see what�s on the stage Don�t blame us for telling you it wasn�t what you thought you�d see So welcome to the cheap seats we hope you�ll enjoy yourself tonight If you can shake the man in front of you awake try to get him to lean right Because he�s blocking my view yeah he�s blocking my view of the carnage I came here to see you I came here to see if you�d come and you will you knew you�d come here and you will So welcome to the cheap seats sir the papers will never know About your rent boy habit or your ever increasing addiction to blow God knows they advertised enough on billboards and bus shelters And now the rich and famous come from miles around to see the sights and hear the sound Of a million paupers getting raped on stage you have to laugh or you�ll cry yourself to death So welcome to the cheap seats welcome to the real world we hope that you�ll enjoy your stay here tonight Ooh, controversial! I mentioned royalty in a song about some degraded and run down theatre where they show highly offensive live sex stage shows! I�ll be getting hung for treason next. No, this song is actually about a make believe theatre where these famous people go under cover of darkness to get their kicks watching poor people getting raped and horrible things like that whilst getting serviced by gigolos and doing drugs. Come to think of it, I might do a short story about it. COMBINATIONAL BARCODE/LOWLIFE (MUSCUTT) (Instrumental track) Although this is a working title only, and it�s not actually been written yet, I�d love this song to be a very dark, electronic song, possibly lasting a very long time. Kind of the theme tune from �Jaws� meets �Terminator 2: Judgement Day�. Putting my name next to it seems a bit pretentious when the damn thing has yet to be written, I know, but hey� BACK HOME (MUSCUTT) There�s never any puddles to reflect the sky back home there�s never anybody short of a home or two There�s never any streetlights gone dead in the roads nor a river home to remote controls Accessories from a broken TV set thrown dry and now it�s wet There�s never any night to impose upon the light back home just a switch to control the lifeforce of the chosen few There�s never any imbalances of economical finances nor a rut that you can run yourself into A hole in the road full of wasted chances and regret Ah, nice. It�s about living away from home and then realising how shitty it is where you live, and how you wish you were back home. That�s like me at the moment, I so wish I had never left home to come to university (as you�ve probably gathered). Everyone I know haven�t really left home yet and ventured out into the big wide world, and they�re all saying I really want to get out of Devon, and I come home for a weekend and I�m like �no, don�t! It�s wonderful here!� You really can get to take a place for granted. [Update: A slightly revised version of this song has now been placed on a poetry web-site called www.poetry.com, there�s a search bar there, and if you type in Peter Muscutt (it asks for first and surnames), you get taken to it. It�s worth mentioning that Simon has also had a poem published there, just type his name in (his surname is Laughton) on the search thing and you�ll be able to read a poem called �American Bravehearts� � apparently about the September 11 tragedy]. LIBEST POP SONG (MUSCUTT) Swill the contents round watch it move around and then go down, down the hole down the hatch Bury the hatchet for the final time and see it internally moving around squirming around in the black Mend the patches deteriorated by rust and mend the cuts so you�ll never spill your guts over me Pop the question the million dollar question that our lives depend on in front of the fucking TV screen Jumping jacks in spastic tracksuit dramas playing out their wildest dreams for several pounds an hour Feel the liquid watch it draining from the machines they hooked up just hours ago in the empty room Fantasise about cells and dripping down the clear end of that plastic bag towards the hole to your body Images of blood streams connected by blue veins what do you feel when they�re getting blocked up Getting you fucked up are you out of your mind on this shit that they feed you out of your box on major ops Jumping jacks in spastic tracksuit dramas playing out their wildest dreams for several pounds an hour Floating now in a sea of nothing that feels like foam but feels like nothing you�ve ever felt before Sinking down in this enveloping clay looking up through the layers that pile on top of you for ever more Breathe in the water breathe in the smoke breathe in the toxic fumes helping you choke Do you want to die yet do you want some help up there�s only insane in the end send you skyward round the bend Jumping jacks in spastic tracksuit dramas playing out their wildest dreams for several pounds an hour Jumping fucks in plastic spacesuit farmers paying out their deepest fears for dishevelled hounds for hours + hours I suppose in a vague way this song equates to what it feels like to die � the first verse is about someone�s final moments, overdosing on something, patching up differences with someone, then asking himself or herself if they really do want to die. The second verse is about the person being in hospital and having medicine induced hallucinations about the life threatening stuff flowing through their body. Then the final verse is about trying hard to leave the world and just die and get it over with, but something keeps pulling you back to the surface. In fact the influence for the last verse comes from a James Herbert book called �Domain�, where this guy has caught rabies and wants to commit suicide by drowning himself, but these other guys try to stop him. So, not really a pop song after all. |
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