St. James Urinary Blues

by Matt Stockl

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released June 27, 2013

All music and lyrics by Matt Stockl except St. James Infirmary (trad. arr. by Matt Stockl)

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Matt Stockl UK

Upbeat songs with downbeat lyrics and a dark sense of humour. Live, Matt plays folk-leaning acoustic music, stripped back and solo, whilst his demos are fused with synth drones, layered harmonies, homemade percussion and glitch electronics. Recently his songs have received regular play on both BBC Introducing and BBC6 music with Tom Robinson. ... more

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Track Name: Don't Piss In The Well
There is a knife that cuts the night, a voice that hacks and keens uncalled for. There is a chorus swells grotesque and dogs that circle round and sing. And on the street outside the glass all is feral, tense and lawless and at the bar inside the wild bride, the adult child, the addled soaked and simplified, the sleep-walkers, the animal. the amplified.

There is a special place in hell for you.
There is a special place in hell.

I am the consummate professional, the seasoned performer. I aim to entertain with showy licks and slick refrains with jokes and tricks and drinking games and sheer commanding presence. But to receive in full the riches with which I deign to adorn you offer up your soul in whole, cease your brawling, hold your heckles, stand in silence, open wide, prepare to travel to the other side.

There is a special place in hell for you.
There is a special place in hell.
There is a special place in hell for those who piss in the well.
Track Name: Laugh Yself Feral
Split my sides, so funny I could die creased up in the middle in a pile of gleaming teeth and teary eyes with foaming mouth and rictus smile laugh yself feral with yr friends and with yr family tonight. Laugh yself feral at the folks, the walking jokes the ones emerging from the smoke to take the stage. Obscene absurd laugh until it hurts.

For the price of a license fee see the many hopefuls stripped of flesh live in glittering HD. See the many hopefuls queue to try and pacify the grinning lions licking offal off their teeth. Laugh yself to bits with me happy in the knowledge that despite our flaws we're better off than these deluded dickheads living in a dream, folded into packages then hammered squeeling into the machine. Laugh yself to bits with me, laugh yself to pieces at the idiot swinging in the breeze. Laugh yself to bits with me, laugh yself to pieces at the idiot who hangs himself on screen, peaceful and serene like the beast that walks to slaughter without thought of anything. Laugh yself feral at the idiot twisting in the breeze. Laugh yself feral at the idiot who hangs himself onscreen. Laugh yself feral then apply to be on ITV next week.
Track Name: St. James Infirmary
Well folks I'm going down to St. James Infirmary to see my little baby stretched out on a long white table, she looks so good so cold so pale.

Let her go let her go god bless her wherever she may be. She may search this whole wide world over but she'll never find another sweetheart like me.

16 coal black horses to pull that rubber tied hack, it's 17 miles to the graveyard but my baby's never coming back.

When I die bury me in my straight leg breeches, put on a boxcoat and a stetson hat. Put a 20 dollar gold piece on my watch chain so you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

Then pull apart your bones and put em back together, tell your mama you're somebody new, feel the wind blowing tell everyone look out here it comes and I can say whatever I feel like to you.

And hire me 6 crap-shooting pall-bearers have a chorus girl sing me a song, place a jazz band on my hearse wagon singing hallelujah as we roll along.

Well folks now that you have heard my story, say boy hand me another shot of that rye, and if anyone else should ever ask you just tell em I got some of those St. James Infirmary Blues.