The Herd Lyrics


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The Black Hole Shop

77 percent / Tampa tantrum -



so i'm left sitting here, staring into a beer
shaking my head at the same ol' loathing and fear
stranger in my own land, can't understand
how the very word australian has been damned
i fucking hate myself - take ozi from my name
erase this endless shame, forever casting blame
if you don't act the same will i destroy you?
everyone looks the same beaten black and blue

and so fuck you - you fuckin redneck pricks
fact is the only fuckin shit that sticks
watch as i tear the very skin from my face
so none'll see my race - my deep disgrace
you not even from here in the first place!
and those that are you wanna further debase
nup - no more - never again whether by fist or pen
i will defend - cos i'm at a loose end

the shattered remnants of ozi dignity
i'm a skip/whitey/round eye suprise me
by using your shrivelled brain to please explain
how the clever country has gone down the drain
we rode the sheep's back now the sheep ride you
if this is how it is don't ever call me true blue
i denounce my ancestors, wounds still fester
if you say it aint so i suggest ya wake up

this country needs a fucking shake up
wake up - these ***** need a shake up

nation of immigrants - height of hypocrisy

talkback? squawking hacks - won't relax
until jonesey, zemanek + laws are all axed
77 percent of aussies are racist
and if you're here - i'll say it your faces
rich redneck pricks still hold all the aces
so i'll buy ya a beer - with an arsenic chaser
better off dead? is that what i've said?
tempting to take for all the blood you've shed

just a couple of fools can make us all seem dumb
that's why mainsteam media makes me so fuckin glum
just anglo reality - intellectual cavities
channel 9 fostering prejudiced mentalities
i won't be a casualty - just mention casually
that i won't stand for you shit-eating bullies
preying on peeps without a mainstream voice
most of youse stay silent but i've got no choice

wake up - this country needs a fucking shake up
wake up - these ***** need a shake up

so i've yelled my lungs out but to no avail
that you're a stranger yourself is the sting in the tail
captain cook was the very first queue jumper
and it was immigrant labour that made australia plumper
enough is enough - whiteys pack your stuff
we don't wanna live in england? - well that's just tough

time for us to wake up


Bombs are back in vogue -



whatever happened to the protests and the rage?
whatever happened to the voices of the sane?

It’s all too soon and bombs are back in vogue again
A daisy cutter let our leaders gloat again
I’m waiting for and hoping when / we hear alarms
Thinking of that beautiful little country called Vietnam
And we’re all calm, cool and collect, like shirty hippies
In the states in the early sixties, read up the text.
Military used terrible chemicals like ‘agent orange’:
The gasoline gelatine that melts people to skeletons
Killing by mass these Vietnamese by millions,
The US got it too as did the allies and the children.
But that is the result within a campaign of destruction
Everybody suffers when murder is in production.
Propaganda’s part of the rules but What Rules?
Innocent people were being slaughtered by fools
Using biological weapons like blankets on villages
Why are the rules always written by the pillagers?
And it seems like we’ve accepted they’re okay again,
Bombs are back in vogue a tragedy is waiting.
And it seems like we’ve accepted they’re okay again,
Bombs are back in vogue the tragedies are waiting.

whatever happened to the protests and the rage?
whatever happened to the voices of the sane?

Bombs are back in vogue and back they came in droves
Lying in the underground but recently rose
They use opinion polls that handed them a mandate
Had a plan to make a killing that would build a bigger fan base
With a bandaid approach to policy that’s too foreign
‘cause the reality of war is that no one escapes the horror.
What you’ve got is all powerful, immunity to laws
Why the hell you need to run the group with an overused sword?
Is it because you run the economy on the military?
Is it ‘cause Howard is as bigoted as Bush junior’s conspiracy?
And now the people tell the president to push the button
And that’s nothing; he needs more replacements for the Russians.
Everything is insecure, polite and volatile.
It’s a dangerous tide we’re swimming in and will be for a while.
As I prepare for the miles ahead, looking at the papers,
Bombs are in the headlines and are treated like saviours.
And it seems like we’ve accepted they’re okay again,
Bombs are back in vogue a tragedy is waiting.
And it seems like we’ve accepted they’re okay again,
Bombs are back in vogue the tragedies are waiting.

Props to gil scott h.


Eye of a cyclone -



I like to live electrically; I love to feel the energy
When the sparks are next to me, that modern social remedy
Better be as mod. convenient as it possibly can,
I want to change the world without ever moving my hands.
A man cannot live on bread alone, so let me feast
On my western luxuries cheaply made in the east
Supersonically I access electric information
Wasting no time on the physical manifestation
The news before me, of the technological glory
Accompanies the sites covering the real stories
Of real people, supposedly equal in poverty,
While these multinational merges celebrate monopolies.
There's got to be a point we reflect on what needs to be done
In order to develop a completely sustainable future for people
Other than those in America and Britain,
And all the countries where human rights are written.
The country as entity is progressively threatened by extinction,
You've seen the trend, now check the vision.
The metaphorical merging of nations has come not physically,
But essentially, all nations become one.
So then how can we afford to ignore any nationality?
Eventually every single person will be seen as family.
The tradionally industrialised will seek protection
From class actions by small countries suing for neglection.
The governments will stall and refuse to apologise,
Then the biggest war that ever was will soon be recognised.

WE CANNOT BE CONTENT JUST BECAUSE WE'VE ALL GROWN
THAT'S LIKE RELAXING IN THE EYE OF A CYCLONE
MOST OF US IGNORE THE EVILS EVEN THOUGH WE ALL KNOW
IT'S LIKE RELAXING IN THE EYE OF A CYCLONE
Is the fate of the world in the hands of sick men?
Do we accept what's entrenched, and live for the weekend?
Are we meant to have air-vents in office-like cells?
Do we think we sell products when we're selling ourselves?
Does life find meaning when help out our neighbours?
Or do we gain importance if we change their behaviour?
I'm not playing, waiting for eleventh hour holy saviours,
Fry the mixture 'til it's boiled, the credit extra favours.
I've been wondering for ages: just what the future holds
No doubt that it will come from this cyclone of technology.
Our leaders are out of touch like spray-on jeans,
Deals in backrooms are unseen, but well intended?
So I crack the keyboard with a clenched fist, I pick
Up the phone, dial the prime minister, ask if I missed
the point, questions coming out my head like condensation,
and yeah your friendly machine heightens frustration.
I'm beyond anti-establishmentarianism, I just want answers,
But what are my chances?

WE CANNOT BE CONTENT JUST BECAUSE WE'VE ALL GROWN
THAT'S LIKE RELAXING IN THE EYE OF A CYCLONE
MOST OF US IGNORE THE EVILS EVEN THOUGH WE ALL KNOW
IT'S LIKE RELAXING IN THE EYE OF A CYCLONE


Island of lost foods -



Urthboy verse

I lost the plot, like an RSL president and draw
analogies of weather change to explain away my temperament
I worship politicians; perhaps that's why I'm so hesitant
To embrace anything by the traditional, call me impotent
Or insignificant, like MCs who think it's about being Aussie
Narrow minded focus, content bogus
Ultimately fucking hopeless, like a neurotic dog barking at
Shadows and confused because no one sings along
I'm bringing back those dance moves like footloose
Freaky smiles like Dr Zeus, squawking like a goose
Having a ball like senior citizens at the bingo, out in Minto
Where the host for the evening's proceedings is Ringo
Stars in my eyes like a housewife on Wheel of Fortune
Or a superstar house dj when the crowd screams out "more tunes"
I bought you like retail promotion; hey I'm a demon
I made you loyal so you'd buy me when I come back into season
There's a reason for everything like athletes losing hair
The corporate share, John Laws and banks make a great pair
I'm the full gimmick and novelty, empty like Ben Lee
Attacking systematically like Stan Zemanek, I'm on a frenzy
Friendly? Yeah I'm Ray Martin with entertainers
I'm the cult leading satanist welcoming anyone who's famous.

Realistix verse

Whilst freaking facts to fools I fumble with two insulated tools to defuse the bombs placed in schools by uncool dudes making too many rules, as I smack the serpent from its stool into a deep seated acid pool, smoke rises, in a seemingly sequential spool. I be the butter on bread when it comes to beatboxing in back alleys because of bad times, sometimes my rhymes backhand like a battery hooked up to a bank of capacitors in parallel I put positive points across to prop up a couple of poorly placed speech bubbles with predominant force, of course you curse but your cuts get worse, better reconfigure your regulations, I saw you get sliced and threaten your life but it was really just an abrasion . I do my duty duly, it was a decision decided by the direction of my stance, subconsciously slapped in a sequential selection, first to the left, then to the right, one after the other, from the middle of the day to the dim moonlight or ducking and running for cover, when I don't lactlustre my speech because I was too busy sparking like a sequence, and I love your cover stand up for your cause but I'll look to my own to take a stand.


New world order -



The whole world's gone fuckin insane
everybody grab the controls of an aeroplane
then shoot the pilot and kill all of the crew
and find two big buildings to fly it through


No consent -



no consent was sought by the drover, in his quest to get a leg over
now great rivers no longer flow, another salt vein exposure
she's going through hell and it shows, her eyes are now losing that glow
2 centuries on death row, to the sound of the shearer's blows
click go the shears, boys, click click, click goes the shutter the surveyor cutting
her face into nothing - really quite touching as fissures erupting are praised as a blessing
more window dressing instead of a lesson - she will now listen to any suggestion
but she is subtle in how she asks questions - and cannot find you if you lose direction

she is epitomy of perfection - and prone to bouts of deep reflection
fears that her children will lose connection - abuse the process of natural selection
she has more tears to be crying but now - her eyes are so dry that she doesnt know how
screaming for help without making a sound - with every day she loses ground
beauty that's founded in something unseen - men see the surface but fail to dream
her love can encompass every living being - she wonders if that's why they won't let her be
never believed in an evil seed - until she watched as they took more than they need
some of her children will never take heed even while watching their own mother bleed

vitality lifeforce linger on
brutality no remorse almost gone

never considered her life to live - was for anything but to give
tells herself they're still just kids - she cannot forget but forever forgives
there's only so much that she can teach - never been one to make a speach
easy to see that her power is leeched - the further their hearts stray from her reach
she wishes they would listen for once - think in millenium instead of months
stop to consider the evidence - they're killing themselves on every front
her heart warms to the few who know - her garden does not grow in neat little rows
know how to share without coming to blows - don't need to dig to see what's below

the cuts on her face have left their scars - memories of trying to tear mum apart
she no longer cares if stones are cast - but they hurt themselves and she takes it so hard
infinite kindness infinite wisdom no end to all of the riches she gives them
in their own blindness their descision is to lock mum forever in prison
and all that is left is a lonely tear - looks to the future but still she fears
unless there's a saviour to yet appear - the end of it all is drawing near
despite all the heartache she will not stop - her children from taking whatever they want
if that turns out to be all that she's got - then so be it


Ray of Sun -



31 in the shade and I can't understand
how i feel like the only man left in Iceland
It's rainy and cold and everyone looks glum,
but I feel like I'm standing in a ray of sun

Motorbike on a kickstand, waiting for Zen maintenance,
Broke down on the highway and stationary ever since,
It all seems futile, count the hours till sleep,
With every breath a little closer to death I creep.
Man, don't sink too deep, don't be so fucking heavy man,
Just keep on writing raps with a steady hand,
Because that's all that matters, infact, it's all there is,
I got spite and envy mixed up for married life with kids.

I fear the path of least resistance, so, time for a rain dance,
To make sure I don't dry up, like, never took a chance,
But I' wouldn't rap on a Polka, so who 'm I talking to?
Maybe like the Buddhist's say, life's like a GroundHog day.
We're all stuck in our cycles, forever and eternal,
Perfecting our lines, and making notes in our journal,
If there's one kernal of truth in everything I've known,
It's at the end of it all we're really all alone.

If you stress out and try to answer all the questions,
Life will be like a spacebar, a series of depressions.
All I know is I'm as insignificant as a flee,
But yet the most important thing that's ever happened to me,
And that will set you free, even if shit looks bleak,
And you can change your way any day of the week,
But who am I to speak for any but myself,
'cause I can only see the cards that I've been dealt.
Now you can diss the dealer, 'cause the dealers corrupt,
Or you can do like Krakatoa and just go errupt,
If you've had enough, don't call the dealer's bluff,
Just walk away from the table, like you don't give a stuff.
It's like Metallica say, nothing else matters,
The game is full of checia cats and mad hatters.

It's 31 in the shade and I can't understand
how i feel like the only man left in Iceland,
Rainy and cold and everyone looks glum,
but I feel like I'm standing in a ray of sun

I can't see my way -

It's like a wall, you see, you can't really see over it from that side,
You can't see the other side, but you still know it's there

What's there? -

Man, everything's fucked up, I can't find my way.
But you were still alive at the break of day.
Oh that's just like you, eternal optimist.
But you get so negative when you get so pissed.
I'm only drinking 'cause I'm sober and not going places.
Yeah, but then you diss everything on the value of faces.
But if you dig deeper things will seem even worse.
Man, life is more like a bicycle than a herse.
Don't you ever feel like an old lady with an empty purse?
If that's your attitude maybe you should get a wet nurse.
Oh so I'm immature 'cause I see how it is.
Yeah but just having a whinge is acting just like a kid.
You can't take every twist and turn without skids.
But you can stick to the road if you don't blow your lid.
Man, I don't really see the point to all your advice.
Yeah but one day you'll look back and you'll see that I'm right.

It's 31 in the shade and I can't understand
how i feel like the only man left in Iceland,
It's rainy and cold and everyone looks glum,
but I feel like I'm standing in a ray of sun

It's 31 in the shade, I can't understand
how i feel like the only man left in Iceland,
Rainy and cold and everyone looks glum,
but I feel like I'm standing in a ray of sun.


Scallops -



fatty cells expand when we take the mic in hand
check out the land on which we dwell with the rhyme unplanned
now central coastin’ not like central heating
mc’s minds meating like the lake meets the sea at swansea
on solid rock yes you know we dont stop
til we got everyone of you poppin like bottle tops
like a stubby on the verandah nothing we planned'a
just spontaneous banter when we take the chance to
entice you to do this nice to whatever vice you choose
i think we prove you got nothing to lose
by following us - in my tongue i trust
to get done what we must swirls of reddust behind me
so hard to find it so why try getting high
wide open skies and country side
just gimme some beats and rhymes and room to thrive and
i swear that ill always come live and direct
inspect the jam from every angle that you can and
you might interpret the master plan
but if you dont ill still be rockin the boat
chillin wit trakswet and tofu lake side
to promote this new view - anybody there?

hey did you see that.....
flying scallop

CHORUS:
Like a $3.40 bag of fresh hiphop
from your local fish and chip shop
AH Scallops! With Dollops of flavour on top,
When we do what we do we give heads the bops
.....x4

torches reflect water scorching sun ordinary laws
bored people run off the day dont stay
so they packed up stacked up equipment set up
the way to play at lake placid snake acid recapping
groove grabbing thought skanking travelled on trains
buses pains mail lines trusted train departing
we rushed it discussed it lack of preparation separation
from city scenes littered streets reversed beets
immersed in the heat of the batlas teknique
wants and needs verbal speed darkness feeds
and bites and beats through the night that are sliced with a knife
ripe with the rhymes that run thru my life
with stacks and piles of pancakes and pears
for goodness sake im aware when we wake
opportunitys we take to break and break
and frantically tickle me its rushing all over me

CHORUS

clip art cobras.... descending on wyee station
not of the rave persuasion we are our own rave
trakswet tofu and i disembark in strange days
swarms of Christmas beetles you have to get through or shoo away
Quick a select few knew what to do
and chose or choose to flight or flew to coastal aboads for tunes of new
no seeds be sown
its all be blown in breezes reflective foils
sonic releases and eases me
essential, like sunscreen, spf 15 slip slop slap on this track
when you wanna feel like summer laid back
song gets stronger, mcs go longer
when folks in live shows nod along to their flows

balcony is excellent
thanks very much

CHORUS x 8


Super dooper detectives -



The super dooper de-tec-tives in disguise
caught flipping up the briefcase tricks inside
Strap on the limb, artificial is the name
Infa-red like Nutrition, bust vessel in your vein.

Cause I’m close on the track, turnaround and then I’m back
post-mortem is the present and my gift is my lack
Of grace, stick it in your face,
Tripping corporations by the boots of their lace.

Crawling in your air vents, escalator hopping
Clues that I’m dropping, and codes that I’m knocking
Invisible ink, drip trickling chant
There I am again, hiding stealth behind a plant

Tip Toe, quiet like a plug
Solving cooperate crimes that slimes out like a slug
Laying down traps, like a bucket on the door
Sticking notes upon your backs, saying ‘kick me to the floor’.
Cause spies like us, don’t need no guns
Nutrition takes em out using only bad puns
No Trench coats, just moustaches we’ll be wearing
cause where getting on your nerves
like some nostrils that are flaring
to the side
Opps I better run and hide

Where going undercover
so deep thats it’s fried
Agent artTVshell Limb on the trail again
gonna get another spin down the dark alley lane

I’m like the nutty inspector
a bubbling mess
catch the crooks with the loot
and make them all confess
But I do it by mistake
In true Moustache style
never searching the computer for the criminal file


The painter -



Indecision is the name of the season, we get to weekends,
Can't be speechless, so we're speaking out for no reason.
Got chucked straight in the deep end, no one ever reached in
to lend a hand, but I guess that gave us space to breathe in.
Now I told you we were leaving the planet, periodically,
And returning with extra-terrestrial property,
I hear you comment on my oddities, fulfilling prophecies
of twisted green-eyed dwarfs who can't speak properly.
There's just no stopping the imagination of a frustrated youth,
With a head of ideas and a spring in his boot.
Can't wait or be waited on, but still waits too long,
There's no speeding, or slowing town time, it's too established.
We decorate our homes with anguish, appliances and fabrics
And hide in attics, and mask our words with static.
Their personality's automatic, tragic and so cool.
The antithesis of hip hop, but play the part like you.
Can't hear it but it's true, stick to the flow like glue
So we prove ourselves in order to be accepted by who?
Freestyle 'til there's nothing else to do; say; spray or think,
Drink 'til you can't say; think; spray or do.
Hang with a crew; get a job, photo in the paper.
Pat on the back from peers but they all think they're greater.
Not me I'm just a painter, a plain old ordinary painter.

From Movements to Freaky Loops to bars and Club Keeno
We pulled our socks to the kneecaps and sent out memos
Shot the ball from the free-throw, and got the aim perfected
The opposition got upset; we knew they never meant it.
The voice that was projected never knew more than you
But thought clearly, like the smog that rests above the city.
Man they say that Sydney is special, fast-paced and stained,
Re-arranged for the games, and even the laws are changed.
White-collars absorb spilt champagne but never turn blue,
Clubs take the who's who, then O.D. in the men's loo
Too much cash and wealth, too many homeless Australians
Too many negative ramifications of our invasion.
Oz raps is our creation, for experiments sake,
Watch the halls come down, empires and states.
We deliver the goods with no freight, and no damage
Take beats to the stage with presence like a marriage
Some say the perfect couple, so cute together,
Making raps for the better, bass to make the Earth tremor.
To paint a pretty picture of perfection would be wrong,
So I reflect on what I know, observe your actions and words.
We're flying with the birds and the crowds for which we cater.
This wordscape of meaning constructed by the painter.