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Perfection R​.​I​.​P.

by Pagan Wanderer Lu

Matthew is bleeding from his mouth The knuckles of the hands he shook They knocked him down The Asylum Seekers had a shit goalkeeper And the Young Offenders had some crap defenders Well who won the match? You know…. I can’t remember Working as a volunteer referee It’s not your job to keep the peace You’d think asylum seekers would be peaceful people And that young offenders would have to keep their temper Well who started the fight? You know…. I can’t remember What you fucking Raqi’s doing in our country anyway? Fuck you, motherfucker. We can kick your asses any day Take out your aggression on the pitch This is a gentleman’s game We all love to live vicariously Through the sporting achievements of our country But if an asylum seeker could be England keeper Then our team winning would just lose all meaning And a kick in the mouth Well that could just be the beginning….. We are all volunteers (we do what we want when we want to) Even the ones who Don’t really live here Matthew is bleeding from his mouth The knuckles of the hands he shook They knocked him down
Sell Space 00:48
Are you listening to this song? Then so are your customers And there’s room for sale in the final verse Five hundred pounds a word This song’s the ideal vehicle To get your message out To the 18-30 ‘indietronica’ fan demographic “PWL Shit Cloths” are the greatest cloths in the world They’re tough on stains and spillages And they’ll get you girls
And if they find those bodies buried under your immaculate lawn Not from this life, the one before Ah ah ah… Would that then prove perfection was never really within your grasp? Another finger in the dam? Ah ah ah… If they could regress you back to Some other life you’ve lived through Does that suggest you’ve no control Ah ah ah… Life is a ladder it’s true But all the rungs are sawn through By errors in the life before Ah ah ah… A simple life I look both ways before I step on anyone’s toes But still they kick me when I’m down Ah ah ah… The only place perfection’s found is between people making love That’s why it’s all but not allowed Ah ah ah… Until they work out how to charge you For stuff that you get up to They’ll have to try to sell you more Ah ah ah… There were no bodies hidden When you dug up the garden Maybe they were never there at all? Ah ah ah…
Put your faith in the hands of a bricklayer Use your faith, train Saddam as a bricklayer
Popplewell, Tillotson, Leverhulme, Gandalf Teacher! Teacher! Spray the foam on the… Spray the foam on the boy’s pectoral The Tree of Knowledge grows from barren ground here The apples fall from the trees in the distance Read the names on the corridors of power Engorged phalluses with rich parents Thick, strong planks in the walls of a boys’ club Our education there is none finer The hierarchy of sin is implicit Heaven forfend you go near a vagina My school reunion is not gonna happen The Tree of Knowledge can fuck my apples I took a bite now I can’t stay happy The Tree of Knowledge can fuck my apples Pray yourself to the top of the ladder Only the chosen return to the garden Make racist jokes until the asian kids join in Christians like you are why God invented lions These are the best days of our lives… Well you ruined mine
The Black Death (free) 03:54
England, you don’t believe in anything That’s why every high street in the country looks the same But I’d rather build a mosque than any more retail parks The Trafford Centre scares me more than riding London trains We’re trapped inside the storm from all the butterflies Of every single little thing we can’t be arsed to do And it’s really easy just to blame The Government But there’s really not a lot of them and there’s millions of you And if people could learn not to keep throwing their own faeces in the street During the Black Death Maybe we can learn to throw out things in different bins And if God made the world and God made people and people make a mess until There’s no people left Will the world still spin With no one left to worship him? And Hey kids! If you just believe in something…. You win a iPod England, you don’t believe in anything That’s why every teacher in the country looks depressed We spawn children indifferent to achievement All the while proclaiming how their country is the best Is it nature or nurture or just apathy That’s causing all the bus shelters to shatter overnight? We’re forgetting the lessons from our History That downfall follows empire like fight follows fight
000s & 111s 02:03
I’m a kid at a bus stop going to the municipal pool to meet my friends We are gonna have a good time good time Head full of summer and a pocket full of change But when I get there every single window’s tished in Soon there’ll be nothing left to do in this town So we’ll all stay home and we’ll all play with zeroes and ones…. Zeroes and ones, zeroes and ones…. I’m a second generation bus stop kid Living with the legacy of all the buildings that my parents kicked in Football field full of trees, youth club volunteers have quit Now we hang around the shopping center We buy cool clothes so we can look at each other Headphones on so we can’t talk to each other Head full of nothing and a pocket full of zeroes and ones…. Zeroes and ones, zeroes and ones….
Do I seek a simple life? Or is there life enough in these chords for two? Do I seek a simple life? Or is there life in these chords for me and lu….? This brand new dance ain’t so easy to do It’s easy to say ‘create if you want to’ There aren’t enough hours in the day to create it all We all seek a simple life Some will dance and some will fight Learn to dream with depression Boil life’s questions down until they become Endless usable fragments of…. Can music ever replace God? And if we’re all just machines For replicating genes Then what the hell can any of this mean? I wish I was on medication So I had something to stop taking And I feel deep inside There is nothing deep inside Just a black space behind my eyes And I sleep in her hands And my conscience flows like sand Through the pinch in the glass of my life I am just machine (we’re all just machines) We are all machines for dancing And when I lose my faith in song Your love’s what keeps me strong
Charlie and me we saw you supporting Leaves Andy! Where've you been? You say you've been busy I thought you moved to another city... Andy, tell me What did you think of my cd? Tell me the truth did you even get to track 2? We got out first review "'Demo' - Eskomolto What's with the interminable mock-latino vocals?" You know we've come from Mexico All the way to Manchester We thought music was better here Andy, where've you been? You say you've been busy I thought you moved to another city...
Lord I can't help thinking you don't exist and if that's really true Lord what kind of life is this? If I thought I'd find you Lord I'd search I'd leave no stone unturned But that don't sound too easy I know what I'd prefer I'm not asking you to jump through hoops for me I won't ask you to make me rich beyond my wildest dreams... Just five simple prayers to show me that you're there Five simple prayers to show me that you're there Five simple prayers that'd be enough for me, Lord Five simple prayers what's the statistical likelihood of being wrong? Five coincidences I can't explain away If I asked overtly If I spell it out and pray The space behind my eyes feels filled with things I can't explain I'd rather know you now than wait for the celestial plain Why must the sun in the sky just go over my head? Why must I sleep when I'm alive? Why must I learn when I'm dead?


watch the video for 'Tree of Knowledge' here:


released November 5, 2007

written/played/recorded by Andy Regan
mixed and mastered by Oli Horton at Dreamtrak


all rights reserved



Pagan Wanderer Lu Cardiff, UK

Electronica fuelled indiepop from South Wales.

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