RAW 64’s of BOREDOM #3 - All Aboard
-Beat made on my phone, using iMaschine 2
-Vocal recorded in Cubase -No monitors, just headphones with one, half-working ear
-Recorded late at night, making minimal noise
-Image taken by Janice D'Costa
-Written, produced and recorded in isolation by Paul Cree -why not?
LYRICS
I used to bored trains, bored and try and jump ‘em
ride it from Horley, to Clapham Junction
small town Surrey, to South London
I guess on a bit of a quest in search of something
left a trail to find my way back home
stick on stones on the railroads
couldn’t drive, couldn’t afford the lesson time
and the kids with whips didn’t really wonna leave their drives
took trips down to Brighton the seaside
record shopping and picking up the rave flyers
saw weird shit, like white guys in doo-rags
thinking back-home they’d probably get laughed at
in fact, probably slapped these towns were like that
they weren’t the worst but geezers up in shirts on the
lash to pull birds, were likely to get violent if they failed in their
search, or worse
a lot of fighting back home in the pubs and bars
us smart ones played the fish in a pond card
then went up London to go dancing in the raves
like fish out of water but a pond to a lake
in these cities I found a new breed of prick
sort of smart-arsed kid, went to uni bunned a spliff
considered themsevls enlightened ‘cos they listened to Jehst
then slag off my hometown and say it was full of inbreds
I’d think shutup mate, then shake my head
knowing one day they’d probably be my boss
sat around a table, putting ticks in a box
the power to say no, or take what I’ve got
early shifts north terminal, working in a shop
coming straight from the End, eyes all blood shot
Gatwick strip lights like droughts to a frog
fall asleep on the train back, missed my stop
back on the train and id get myself lost
looking out the window till my eyes would go boss
Croydon was the final frontier of the city through the boundaries
then back into leafy Surrey county
many times I avoided getting robbed
playing cat and mouse with gangs by getting on and getting off
sometimes guards locked doors between carriages
them slam-door trains carried some colourful characters
never saw transport police, only at matches
Saturday Millwall trips became standard
knew a couple of kids at my school who supported ‘em
95 first game, hooked, Kerry Dixon scored
grew older, beer became a part
post match piss-ups, pissed as a fart
on a train home, shared a can with a west ham fan
got off at his stop and threatened to slit my throat
there were times when I behaved like a prick
pissed up bunnin’ spliffs and vandalising shit
felt sorry for the cleaner, cleaning up my sick
when I’d consumed special brew and it erupted out my lips
performed acrobatics just to make last trains, there were
times when I didn’t and I’d be stranded till the next day
trying to kip with the waifs and the strays
invalidate my ticket so twice I’d have to pay
read books, wrote bars, poems and stories
end of the nineties right into the noughties
hiding in my seat, window-side preferably
wrote so much between, London and Horley
travel card, pen and a pad that was my weaponry
building up my armoury to advance on my arteries
trying to pump a lifeforce, into my heartbeats
and beat the boredom by beating some bars out of me
