Benefits

"Meat Teeth" was inspired by a combination of conversations from work last summer about feeling like you'd won the lottery at getting ten pounds an hour; chats online about the occasional pointlessness of leftist preachings to the converted; the ongoing horror of this comedy cartoon fascist government; and a realisation that we're all going down on this shitty red white and blue ship together – some more comfortable than others admittedly, but by fuck, we're all going down. The core of it was pulled together over Christmas '21 when the combination of Downing Street party revelations and the sheer greed of the season started to tip me over the edge. We turn these songs around quickly, the point of them is to release them so they're relevant to the subjects we're writing about. There's no time to waste.

lyrics

Where will you be?
Alone on your meat rack? Poundshop Balzac, where will you be?
Up against some television piss wall, gimp faced clown in hand me downs. Plastic frowns. Where will you be?
Endless fuck all. Lazy fucking free for all.Glued to the phone, in that room full of people but all alone, eyes blue glow, Where will you be?
That male prick shit. Letting fucking rip. Tippy tap tip tip, usual shit, tweeting like fucking dick. Where will you be?
Sitting in the flames, all drunk on awe, mustard fucks
Never out of luck. Keeping calm, carrying on, little sup, fucking up. Where will you be?
Hypocrisy lol, corruption lol, fucking lol lol lol LOL.
Where will you be?
Feet up, ten pound an hour, the power,
As your background friends scour,
Billy big time stuffed full, Audi on tick with a boot full,
Where will you be?
Big Christmas gut full. A little bit thick...
And theres an angel on your shoulder that thinks you’re a prick.
Where will you be?

Clutching that flag, dreaming of Empires and crowns,
And fighting at the front in provincial fucking towns
Where will you be?
You’re saluting yourself, hailing the thief,
Grinning with your rotten fucking meaty fucking teeth
Spiralling down, where will you be?
You’re fucking haywaining, clueless, rudderless, overdosed on your own stubbornness, where will you be?
Down in the street, drunk in the dirt, Facedown in the shit.
Licking the boot, licking the dream,
the arse kissing cat who got the dregs of the cream,
WHERE WILL YOU BE WHERE WILL YOU BE WHERE WILL YOU BE

...Anarchy’s not what it used to be
You see? You see? YOU SEE?
WHERE WILL YOU BE?

Kitchen towelling the guts of a shitty past.
Half arsed. Half hearted. Half cut. We’re all fucked.
Where will you be?
Suffocating in scandal, endlessly,
Are you under the baton or gripping it?
Where’s your anger, where’s your rage, where’s your dignity

Yet I get it.
i’m the one I’m always complaining about.
I’m the sheep, half asleep.
shouting along with those who agree with me.
We need the ears of the fuckers that have blocked you and me
Where will you be?
It’s all too fucking twee. Where’s the good stuff?
He’s just doing his fucking best and you think thats enough
Where will you be?
Will we learn, will we ever fucking learn?
Where will you be when England burns?
WHEN ENGLAND BURNS

Where will you be?

Flames licking St Georges heel
Itching the bones, fucking up your smartphones
The decking’s up in smoke
You’re a lifeless statistic, a reliable vote.
You can’t see it. You can’t feel it. You’re done. You’re spent.
You’re happy with your burnt out lot.
You’re happy with all this trophy shit you’ve got.
Are you best left to rot?
So fuck the lot. Fuck the lot. FUCK. THE. LOT.
Where will you be? WHERE WILL YOU BE?
WHEN ENGLAND BURNS.