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2017: Lyrics & Poems


Copyright 2019 Andrew Robert Chapman

Published by Andrew Robert Chapman at Smashwords

Edition 2019.2.2


This book is available in print at most online retailers.


Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.



Table of Contents

Prologue

Preface

Preamble

Proem

(All I Need s) Your Love

1984

Adieu

Beggin' For It

Collapse

Collision Course

Dear Leader (Fuck You)

Fallin' (Outta Control)

Fire And Forget

Gay Enough

Hit Me

Keep 'em Poor

Kissin' Me

Radio Song

Train Wreck

War Dogs

Wean (Myself)

White Privilege

White Revolution

Song background information

1984

Beggin' For It

Dear Leader (Fuck You)

Keep ‘em Poor

War Dogs

Wean (Myself)

White Privilege

Song breakdown/explanation

1984

War Dogs

Epilogue

About the author

Other books by the author

Contacts and Links


Prologue

When I starting compiling this book’s content I was asked for whom I was writing it for. I replied “For myself.”

Contrary to all advice concerning writing eBOOKs, my motivation is not to appeal to a wide audience, achieve international fame nor make a fortune, large or small. The song lyrics in this book were written with the hope and intention that they one day achieve immortality on a professionally produced studio CD. But, since I started writing poems in 2012, the amount of rhymes, ditties and lyrics has swollen to the extent that any plan to record them all is hopelessly unrealistic.

Thus, instead of them languishing unrevealed, unread and unheard of, a plan formed to make them accessible to the world via a self-published eBOOK. Should just a single word, line, stanza or refrain from the book’s lyrics raise a smile, give pause for thought or even manage to inspire a single person, then my time and effort have been more than worthwhile and rewarded.



Preface

In 2012 I was asked to write lyrics for several band projects, one of which was to lead to the formation of the rock band WildScreW and culminate with the production of a studio CD, “Writing On The Wall”*, at the end of 2016 with myself as vocalist.

The CD’s title song was to become a finalist in the 19th Great American Song Contest.


*Paperback readers must navigate themselves manually to the hyperlinks embedded directly in the eBOOK by referring to the “Contacts and Links” section, where all relevant hyperlinks can be found, including the location of any audio files.



Preamble

2017 turned out to be a very slow year for lyrics, with the first song, “War Dogs”, being written in June and just nineteen songs in total for the whole of the year, a side-effect of the intense studio work for the WildßcreW CD, which was released in February 2017. But, although the year didn’t yield in many song shells, five of the nineteen were put to music as part of pre-production work for the project band FATE. I decided to include “Collapse”, “Fire And Forget” and “White Revolution” in this book, even though they are “officially” classified as Work-In-Progress.

Before I married eleven of my lyrics to musical melodies and sang them with a rock band in a professional recording studio, I used to take an inordinate amount of time fettling my rhymes so that, at least to my mind, the metre, the rhythm, the pace, the meaning, everything I considered vital to the flow and comprehension, was as perfect as I could manage.

I was effectively writing poems.

I was to quickly learn, however, that as soon as a poem is put to music, the strict rules which apply to prose become extremely lax or are completely thrown out of the window. The words which now wrap themselves around a musical melody can be shortened or lengthened by the articulation of the singer in a way which can not be donated or conveyed in a poem’s written form (although I sometimes attempt this by breaking words with hyphens or compressing them to phonetics). Furthermore music producers and studio adaptations and necessities place further demands on a songwriter and a song’s structure, which cause last minute lyrical rewrites and polishing in the studio.

And thus it was I decided, after my experience with WildScreW, that I would purposely leave all my future poetic efforts in a much rawer and less-polished state. Should the occasion arise that such a poem is put to music, then that would be the time to spend the extra effort refining, polishing and honing the rhymes.

Examples of this late stage honed and polished lyrics are “Keep ‘em Poor”, “War Dogs”, “1984”, “White Privilege” and “Wean (Myself)” which were put to music as ALPHAs for FATE and are certainly good enough to perform with a band and as a basis for recording studio material.

Over the years I have also discovered that it is best to literally dump to (digital) paper what ever words and ideas are coursing through one’s mind: Effectively not applying a filter. When I started writing poetry I too often thought “This idea is too puerile!” or “This isn’t my style!” or some other reason not to progress with whatever idea had pushed its way to the front of my mind. And, in my case at least, that usually led to writer’s block, as my work on a different idea would be hindered by the interference from recurring themes from the original, blocked poem. By starting (though not necessarily finishing) any ideas which come into my head, my mind finds closure with that thought concept and is free and uncluttered to move unencumbered onto the next idea, although it is also the reason why there will be a certain tally of poems which are in dire need of polish, fettling and which even contain unfinished lines or rhymes.

Poetry, in all its forms, is an art. You either like a painter’s realism phase or their abstract work. Rarely both. But I hope you stumble across a couple of rhymes which make the time you’ve taken to read them more than worth your while.


The songs are presented chronologically in the order they were written and copyrighted.



Proem

The eBOOK links to my WORDPRESS site SONGANDVERSE reveal that I write my lyrics using a colour code to optically highlight the various song parts. Thus the simply typed PRE-CHORUS and CHORUS serve to reflect the text contained in their equally colour coded counterparts at the start of the song. BRIDGE and PARLANDO parts of a song are also uniquely coloured, in order to visually separate them from the other song parts.

Unfortunately, for eBOOK compatibility, all text has been coloured black/automatic.



War Dogs


Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war!

No one is innocent! Kill ’em all!

Figureheads, breakin’ bread, with Babylon’s whore.

The Gods weep, like dumb sheep the goyim fall.


Hang out our b-a-n-n-e-r-s, on the outer walls.

Bloodthirsty brothers (kiss). Kiss my sword.

Hold the line! Have no fear! No remorse.

So shall we, ever be, with the Lord.


Once more, unto the breach, my friends once more.

Cannons spittin’ furious Hell’s wrath forth.

Hades waits, by the Styx, Cerberus roars.

Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war!


Run with the dogs, run with the hounds.

We’re going to war! (goin’ to war) :||4


Cry Havoc! Let slip, the dogs of war!


Copyright 5.6.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman



Wean (Myself)


This time it’s diff’rent, this time’s for real.

Puppy come-to-bed eyes, betray what you feel.

Ain’t no lookin’ back, ain’t no turnin’ ’round.

Swept off your feet, caught onna rebound.


But I am unworthy, I am not who you seek.

I can see where we’re headin’, and the havoc I’ll wreak.


I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you.

I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you.

I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] If it’s the last thing I do.

I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] Right offa you.


The first cut’s the deepest, the last cut’s for you.

Scars on my heart bleedin’ out deja vu.

Gotta take care of me, in this mean world of hurt.

Gonna keep my distance, stop myself gettin’ burnt.


I am so unworthy, I am not the “right one”.

And baby you’ll thank me, when I am gone.


CHORUS


Just one more time – then I’m gonna go.

:

Just one more time – then I’m gonna go.


Sweetheart come hee-a (here), honey/sugar let’s talk.

You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, by a long chalk.

But the truth of the matter is, my life’s a lie

‘n’ I can’t change my ways, so don’t make me try!


CHORUS

I gotta: [W – e – a – n myself] but it’s so hard to do.


Copyright 31.7.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman


Fire And Forget


She gets down, early morning, feelin’ like I’m on the run.


Battlezone, locked ‘n’ loaded, rollin’ like a thunderstorm.

Call me up, early warning, (I) like a woman in a uniform.

Dangerous, mercenary, pay-to-play on the State dime.

Cut me loose, reap the whirlwind, hold me down or hold the line.


Ready at the flick of a switch, feel-ma trigger-finger itch.


Fire and forget.

Fire and forget.

Deadly like a stealth corvette, faster than a fighter jet.

Fire and forget.

mmmm

Hear her voice in my head, what you don’ do you regret.

Fire and forget.


, sweet surrender,

Call me up, early warning, (I) like a woman in a uniform.

Battlezone, locked ‘n’ loaded, rollin’ like a thunderstorm.

Cut me loose, reap the whirlwind, hold me down or hold the line.

Dangerous, mercenary, pay-to-play on the State dime.


PRE-CHORUS


CHORUS


Copyright 3.8.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman



Dear Leader (Fuck You)


They’re so far up their own arsehole,

surrounded by sycophants.

Don’t forget to lock the ivory tower,

then flood the land with migrants.

Do as I say, not as I do:

Feastin’ regal/august gastronomy.

Let them eat crumbs, or now they say,

“It’s a trickle down economy.”


We unwashed masses have a message for you:


Dear leader – fuck you!


Keep ’em dumb, keep ’em poor,

those useless, useless breathers.

Feed ’em endless sport and porn,

while importing useless breeders.

Genocide on a whole new scale,

welcomed with teddy-bears.

The New World Order goin’ to plan,

no wonder life’s not fair.


But we, the riff-raff, have a message for you:


Dear leader – fuck you!


Maintaining a two-party “democracy”,

spreading freedom with bombs and death.

The world a much better place will be

when “they” draw their final breath.


Our many chains may weigh us down,

but our voices rise up in chime.

So first our speech you cripple and maim,

then make our thoughts a crime.

But know this when you sleep at night:

History will repeat.

We plan the day when we dance on your graves

and your spawn hang by their feet.


We, the rabble, have a message for you:


Dear leader – fuck you!


Copyright 4.8.2017 Andrew Robert Chapman



Collapse


Spending money you don’t have

to buy shit that you don’t need

to impress people – you don’t like!


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