Doing it Right and Doing it Well

by Biscuit Mouth

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05:16
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02:02

credits

released May 26, 2014

Recorded by Jay @ Dubrek, Derby.
Mastered by Robbie @ Snug, Derby.

Artwork by Tim Sinfield - barcode-resistor@hotmail.com

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Biscuit Mouth Derby, UK

General noisemakers. Two pieces of.


contact biscuitmouth100@gmail.com

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Track Name: The Sea Son, Quentin
Collared, found out
Another throw down
Take Cover, ride it out
Collar a wet neck and mop him down
It took nine weeks to track him down
You shook five teeth out of his mouth
Now he’s a gabbler
A Pinko
She intoned
Shake a wet throat
Make his head float
Doing breast stroke above his gown
So she supposed
He comes dripping off a historic skuna bought in the mackerel boom of 04
He comes on for two or four maybe more
In time I’ll get mine as well
Like a hairline in your pin bone
The failures of those are still
Worse than your own
All quiet until
It’s a tongue curler is what it is kid
It’s harebrained moxy is what it is
Harebrain busting heads saying
‘Impale, impale, impale’
Track Name: Roll into the Dancer
They pull into foreign fronts
The hokum son and his companion
He said, ‘it’s a sorry looking slum compared to where I’m from’
Says, ‘stay calm’ and you play along
Says ‘relax’
You say it back
Consider a stone clacker when fisheyes by and by
This guy’s made
Taps his abs attacks the sag
They fall for this play
You’re still in tact
‘Day one spent
Without incident
Except some stayed and some went
True, feathers flew when they had to’
She comes out strapped in new age trunks
And from this conference you knew at once
This ain’t no hoopla this is nuanced
And that’s when the rats came
They come strong black teeth and rotten gums
Wo wo.....wo wo....
Rip on the doctor
Rip on the down
No they can’t stop you it’s scripture
Rip on the bust
Make it an offer
No they can’t stop you it’s scripture
Rip on the ground
Rip in the postured
Rip on the proud
No they can’t stop you it’s scripture
It’s right on time
If they can’t stop you they’ll strip you
You know he’s got his hands up stick in his side
You know he’s got his hands up mad as a house fly
He’s always been on the taller side
‘You want to see me dance? I’d like to see you try’
But all this smoke and mist
You guessed it a front
Track Name: Yaw
Step on trailblazer who take on the thousands
Don’t stand a prayer you who take on the thousands
The many will gather and become the countless
Fresh out of schooling your legs started foaming
Assembly is massing attracting a throng in
Stale and faceless or crudely sewn in
How comely the gushing under your dressing
How comely the gushing under your dressing
The right one’s intact but the left ones a mess
Say they’ll crawl, spill their guts before you
Derail the cause, spill their guts before you
Don’t be so cocksure if you know what’s good for you
Track Name: Sonny Mottram
For three months anal fistula
Mottram Sonny Mottram
Sincere to his last gut
Talk a good man
This maids a new one, you glide it in
Vague and clueless, laced on bluegrass and pigskin
Mottam Sonny Mottram rides again
And as implied he rides
Mottram Sonny Mottram’s set to croak
Sincere to his last gut with gusto
Breathes the last breath he can muster
Mottram crumby Mottram
For three months anal fistula paid the cost
Track Name: You Want Something?
His craft was sacrosanct witchcraft for those who know
She was sculpture, statuette, a figurine of supreme technique
Skill for joinery, a hem of embroidery tacked to her sleeve
She was his Toulee Toulee
More or less all this happened in due course
He was an eloquent mason
Worth seven on the sauce
A henchman lesser to none and all
Sucking in his luck for dumb luck, he forged
And so with that
I was blinded to the fact
This guy’s a quack for sure, he’s a quack
A rat, a sap, but what a peach
Stuffed in her backend a juniper
Keen and evil a surgeon’s son
She’s acting silly and dumb
Cursing him golden for what he’s done
Saying, ‘tradesman by the flexion of your instrument
One of these days your servant’s gonna get some
And you get stung.’
A purveyor of gutsy smut
A dramatic pause between each utter of his discourse
With no cause to speak of
He forged, he forged
Stuffed down her backend’s alluded to way back when
He surveyed his trade
Paraded what he made at his workplace
In sum it was 205
What he wouldn’t give to find a sacrum
Hanging from her backbone a pound of sweets
Hanging just below the knees dropping off
She’s a sapling, he’s a sap
She’s a sapling, he’s a sap
She’s a sapling, what a peach
Track Name: Cut Loose and Then Some
Tender yourself to the cause
Be the author of their falling off
The slump will spill
Toppling the standstill
Silence the goodwill and applause
It’s all more shameful than it was
But I’m afraid for them and not us
In fives and tens they bust out the cut loose gang and I say ‘wow’
Roughhouse kids lip synch to every orifice say ‘wow’
The old boy’s soaked in oil, acrobats like a sack of boils, ‘wow’
Making stumps out of stiffs, you comb them out like this and say ‘wow’
Busting out the cut loose years, fill each female pouch with aqueous ‘wow’
Say ‘you ain’t seen nothing, yet there are five more acts ahead, wow’
And with that they fled
And you got dressed
Now that’s a downfall and then some