formaldehyde

by On a Hiding To Nothing

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Will Baxter
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Will Baxter Anti-Flag, The Vandals and Rise Against having an orgy in a London boozer.

Good stuff. Favorite track: london road, mate.
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1.
04:29
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3.
03:02
4.

credits

released January 29, 2017

guitar/vox - richie
vox/guitar - al
bass/vox - jack
drums - xico

recorded, mixed and mastered by rob quickenden at ford lane studios

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Track Name: swagger
you must get tired making your tough face all the time, always working so hard just to keep that tough image intact, greeting any unlucky passer-by with your battle cry of 'what the fuck are you looking at?' your knuckles scabbed and black from putting last night's offender in his place, your reeboks scuffed and dirty from stamping your authority all over his face

moron and loser are labels you'll never shake no matter how many noses and jaws you break
reprobate

you keep watch over your road from your favourite street corner, or bus shelter if it's raining, always ready to attack anyone committing flagrant offences such as breathing or looking funny or making eye contact, that's asking for a slap, people need to know not to cross that line and you like a long drawn-out conversation so you break it to them one bone at a time

moron and loser are labels you'll never shake no matter how many noses and jaws you break
reprobate

the council own your estate but you stomp around as if you do, but someday someone will beat that fucking swagger out of you. cos you need a large mouthful of your own violent medicine, and you only learn one way, and that's by punching the message in

but it won't be me coming over all bruce lee and giving you the kicking you're way overdue, i'll just stare at my feet awaiting the imminent emasculating taunts as i pass you

moron and loser are labels you'll never shake no matter how many noses and jaws you break,
but you've got big plans and a whole life to dedicate to showing the world who's toughest on your estate
reprobate
Track Name: call me flyboy
i hardly sleep at all these days so i can keep watch through cracks in my boarded-up windows, keeping an eye on every passer-by for when the first signs start to show. i severed family and social ties and i've got a loft packed with supplies and i've got stacks of knives and axes, i'm fully prepped for when the dead start rising

i've done my homework on the living dead, memorized everything that max brooks said, and every source seems to agree you destroy the brain or remove the head. i watched romero movies til my eyes stung, played resident evil til my hands were numb, made sure i'm handy with a chainsaw and i've been practicing headshots with my bb gun

i told em judgement day is just around the corner but they look at me like i'm off my head, but when corpses overrun their streets and their brains are eaten then they'll wish they heeded what i said. cos i'll be ready and they'll be dead.

i've got my route mapped out for when it all kicks off, a lack of planning won't be my downfall. a quick stop to ram raid the gun shop then high-tail it to the shopping mall, and when i've sealed off all of the exits and blown every zombie inside to bits then i'll have my huge free perfect property in which to see out the apocalypse

i told em judgement day is just around the corner but they look at me like i'm off my head, but when corpses overrun their streets and their brains are eaten then they'll wish they heeded what i said. cos i'll be ready and they'll be dead.

i wish they'd hurry up and come and finally give an answer to the big question: will they be like the classic lurching type or those new ones that run?

i told em judgement day is just around the corner but they look at me like i'm off my head, but when corpses overrun their streets and their brains are eaten then they'll wish they heeded what i said. cos i'll be ready and they'll be dead.
Track Name: stuck record
what the fuck am i still doing here, watching my life slowly disappear? this was sposed to be something temporary, if i'm not careful it'll be a career. and i'll wake up one day and realise i'm 60 and my whole stupid life comprised just early starts and commutes, fighting arseholes in suits to get to a job i fucking despised
this stupid meaningless bullshit routine makes me want to put my foot through my computer screen

i don't want to spend my life in this lifeless office regretting chances i wasted and opportunities i missed. i know i'm here through lack of motivation, laziness, and procrastination but i guess i always thought i would amount to more than this

so now clockwatching's a main pursuit of mine, and so's staring out the window so i'm busy staring outside watching minutes crawl by, professionally wasting time
what's the point when all day you spend your time just crossing off the minutes left til the weekend, when you're all set to get shit done but you just sleep and drink and then you blink and it's monday again?

i don't want to spend my life in this lifeless office regretting chances i wasted and opportunities i missed. i know i'm here through lack of motivation, laziness, and procrastination but i guess i always thought i would amount to more than this

this isn't how my life was meant to go. i planned to change the world, not be an average joe. i'm not cut out for mediocrity, i'd rather fail spectacularly aiming high than succeed keeping my sights aimed low. must find something more than slacker to put on the résumé, and a job that doesn't wear my will to live away, get to work drafting my resignation and sorting out those job applications. tomorrow though cos i'm too wiped out from work today.
Track Name: london road, mate
i thought i said let's not talk politics, but somehow here we are. apparently that's just part of the cost of getting in your car. but it's late, i'm tired, my last train home left about half an hour ago, so now as well as shelling out twenty sheets i've got to listen to you moan about how you'd fix this country by sending the ragheads home.

not sure why you've decided it's ok to vent your nasty racist spleen at me. i'd love to tell you why you're wrong, you mindless fuck, but i'd like to get home so we are gonna have to just agree to disagree.

so now that we've done football, immigration's next up on your list, and how they're only here for the bennies or recruiting terrorists. my eyes glaze over as you whinge about your migrant pandemic costing honest hardworking bigots like you and how it makes you sick, working yourself up into daily mail headline hysterics, descending into a verse of your best britain first rhetoric.

not sure why you've decided it's ok to vent your nasty racist spleen at me. i'd love to tell you why you're wrong, you mindless fuck, but i'd like to get home so we are gonna have to just agree to disagree.

i get it mate, you're thick and angry, it must be hard to always have to bite your tongue and hide your disgust at the outrage of seeing people here who don't look like us saying foreign things you don't understand to each other sat on your bus.
and you've looked and decided that i pass your test of having skin that looks the same as yours, it's enough i guess for you to feel ok about getting it all off your chest, coming out with stuff so moronic and offensive that i'm almost impressed.
i'm not agreeing mate, i'm being polite, just cos i'm saying nothing doesn't mean that i think you're right, i didn't fancy a race argument to cap off the night but let's not pretend we're on the same page on this just cos i'm english and white.