On May 31st 2010, we completed the backing trax for all the songs on the forthcoming release entitled "In-Equality Street" The session was recorded at Perry Vale studios in Forest Hill, South London and engineered by Pat Collier.

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 2 Minutes

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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2 minutes to say your lot,

2 minutes that’s all you’ve got,

2 minutes to change my mind,

2 minutes don’t waste your time,

2 minutes to serve an ace,

2 minutes then rest my case,

2 minutes, have I said too much?

2 minutes, 2 minutes.

A ton and twenty seconds, don’t you understand?

I need information, as to what you’ve planned.

2 minutes to pay your dues,

2 minutes can’t pick or choose,

2 minutes to guess my game,

2 minutes then pass the blame,

2 minutes to stop the flow,

2 minutes ‘cos I won’t let go,

2 minutes, it’s only time,

2 minutes, 2 minutes.

Countdown to zero, I’m waiting for your call,

less than one remaining, before you start to fall.

2 minutes to make your mark,

2 minutes before the dark,

2 minutes is this the end?

2 minutes, 2 minutes.

So what's it all about? Sometimes I don't know myself, but it started over a game of chess where I was trying to suss out the opposition. I later used some of the original lyrics in "Enemy of the world"

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 No one needs to know

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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I never steal, and I won’t rob,

but signing on is just a job,

the cost of living made me sick,

so I get my beer and fags on tick.

I’ve got to find a get rich scam,

take a tip from uncle sam,

a nice little earner on the side,

cash in hand, a case of pride.

     The woman upstairs has loads of men,

     No one needs to know,

     Next but ones on crack again,

     No one needs to know,

     I ain’t worked since I don’t know when,

     No one needs to know,

     The socials on my case again but no one needs to know.

A man is measured by his wealth,

but what’s it worth without your health?

no one knows and no one cares,

'cos I ain’t got no stocks or shares,

If unemployments on the rise,

we’re a long, long way from paradise,

and more bad news is on it’s way,

fuck tomorrow, live today.

     Chorus

Sheldon casually mentioned a long time ago he wanted to do a song about some oddballs who live in his block on the Newhaven ghetto. It took me a while before finishing this but I quite like the lyrics. The intro is a piss take of "Ballroom Blitz" but works a treat!

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 I'm not afraid of the dark

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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I lie awake in bed at night,
can’t get to sleep until I hear the sound of daylight,
I pinch myself to ascertain I’m still alive,
no time for mourning, no final warning.
Someone is shouting in my head,
I heard a whisper, of a rumour that was once spread,
I’m so confused, I don’t know what I should believe,
I need restraining, no one’s complaining,
I’m not afraid of the dark.
And as the twilight starts to fade,
I trust you’ll never make the same mistakes that I’ve made,
this medication seems to aggravate my brain,
the sound of thunder, it makes me wonder?
I’m not afraid of the dark.
A screech of an owl, the still of the night,
a demon awakes, the mosquito bites,
my shadow reacts as I stare at the wall,
I’m locked in my room, no escape from it all.
I drift away try to forget,
I fear I’m drowning but refuse to get my feet wet,
am I conscious? maybe this is all a dream?
alarm clock bleeping, disturbs my sleeping,
I’m not afraid of the dark.

This was the first song I completed for the current project way back in April 2008 At first I struggled with the lyrics to this, "2 Minutes" and "I don't wanna be" but fortunately the songs were just strong enough to merit inclusion.

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 The Prisoner

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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For every prisoner there has to be a key,
I’ll take the easy route and shun reality,
the grass is greener here but no place left to hide,
I can’t run forever though, and god knows how I’ve tried,
I bowled my maiden over,
now I’ve been hit for six,
I am the prisoner.
I’d like to rid the world of war and poverty,
but justice says I have to die before I’m free,
my only crime was wanting something more than this,
I closed my eyes and claimed that ignorance is bliss,
you have your piece de resistance,
I wish that I had mine,
I am the prisoner.
Minutes turn from days to years,
winters long forgotten fears,
can’t pay a ransom when there ain’t been no demand,
so dry your tears.
The sun is shining now but every day it rains,
locked in another life where nothing seems the same,
I’m only sleeping ‘til I wake up from this dream,
one step from paradise the grass is always green.
no man can move a mountain,
my soul is not for sale,
I am the prisoner.

In my humble opinion, there are just three songs on this project I consider to be amongst my finest. This is one, but I'm not sure how well it will be received when performed live. The prison I'm referring to, is life itself! There is only one way out, - death. This is part of a recurring theme throughout this batch of songs that questions our very existence.

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 Stand up

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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They offered us a future, a promise to us all,

we rallied with the masses, to see the mighty fall,

I’m proud to say I answered, perhaps it was in vain,

then came a shift in power, our hopes washed down the drain.

     A swing to the left,

     A swing to the right,

     but you won’t see no change tonight,

     A swing to the left,

     A swing to the right,

     stand up, stand up, it’s time to fight.

We read your manifesto, pages by the score,

some had cause to doubt you, been down that road before,

we carried on believing, faithful ‘til the end,

destined for the scrapheap, refused to break or bend.

     Chorus

A politicians nightmare, scandal, lies and sin,

the media had the headline, dealt with ample spin,

questions raised in anger, answers all the same,

beaten to submission, until we rise again.

     Chorus

Many were taken in by "New Labour" in 1997 but it didn't take long before they showed their true colours. Now we have a hung parliament, extreme left, far right or middle ground, todays politics are all pretty much the same. Perhaps they should all be hung.

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 Mohammed

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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I work for eighteen hours in your local corner shop,

from dawn until the evening when my body has to stop,

we share the same desire, to see the troubles end,

you’ll have no need to worry when Mohammed is your friend.

     Oh, Oh-Oh-Oh, I don’t think so!

Please don’t call me Ali, ‘cos Mohammed is my name,

I’ve never hurt nobody yet I always take the blame,

despite my peaceful protests, your predjudice is clear,

‘cos no one wants a muslim for a neighbour over here.

     Oh, Oh-Oh-Oh, I don’t think so!

I could change my name to Jesus,

It would cause a lot less fuss,

I’d wouldn’t need an I.D. card to travel on a bus.

So if I pleaded guilty to these crimes I am accused,

you’d get your satisfaction though it’s me who’s been abused,

but what of all those victims that we saw bombed or burned,

stand up and be counted and take heed of lessons learned.

     Oh, Oh-Oh-Oh, I don’t think so!

Mr Hannaford is convinced someone will kill him for singing this. Read carefully, it's obviously written in the 1st person and therefore acceptable? Truth is, anyone could be the terrorist living next door.

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 Enemy of the world

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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We’re living in a game of chess,
an international dirty mess,
higher ranking politicians,
bend the rules to suit ambition.
King and Castle under attack,
if you call check, we will react,
world war three may have to wait,
you ain’t no friend that I’d call mate.
    Enemy of the world,
    guilty without trial or jury,
    Enemy of the world,
    sentenced by the peoples fury,
    Enemy of the world, 
    live today but die tomorrow,
    Enemy of the world,
    where you go we’re sure to follow.
Two sides meet to wage a war,
all the squares make sixty four,
no one trusts the x offender,
we won’t succumb to their agenda.
Offer us your resignation,
tempting fate by provocation,
this play on words is most obscene,
forfeit the pawn, protect our Queen.
    Chorus

Following on from the previous song, it's obvious who the real enemy of the world is. What a shame that Britain has become the 52nd state.

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 I don't wanna be (part of an Insane Society)

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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I don’t wanna walk the street at night,

I don’t wanna cause a fuss or fight,

I don’t wanna be a substitute,

I don’t wanna wear no three piece suit.

I don’t wanna drive a flashy car,

I don’t wanna be a superstar,

I don’t wanna shout or demonstrate,

I don’t wanna communicate.

I don’t wanna know no right or wrong,

I don’t wanna sing the same old song,

I don’t wanna play away from home,

I don’t wanna give the dog a bone.

I don’t wanna run when I can walk,

I don’t wanna hear your nonsense talk,

I don’t wanna watch the news at ten,

I don’t wanna play guitar again.

I don’t wanna surf the net for porn,

I don’t wanna see the crack of dawn,

I don’t wanna join the welfare state,

I don’t wanna be in bed by eight.

I don’t wanna have a bath each day,

I don’t wanna go to church and pray,

I don’t wanna ask the reason why,

I don’t wanna live, don’t wanna die.

One of my "list" songs was very easy to write but not so quick to record. I think this is very "77" and will probably become a live favourite.

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 She don't understand

Music by Paul D. Waghorn - Words by Sheldon Hannaford

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I’ve been down town to place a bet,

I need some luck, ‘cos I ain’t seen too much yet,

these penny pinching times are starting to hurt,

then “Star-Tip” gave a 5/1 dead cert.

When I get home it’s nag, nag, nag

motormouth with a Gucci designer handbag,

she sent me out for coffee, milk and bread,

I stumbled through the door pissed out of my head.

     She don’t understand,

     She don’t understand,

     She don’t understand,

     ‘cos I am what I am.

Wednesday night, stayed in and watched T.V.

dropping hints she wants to have a baby,

this conversations getting out of hand,

I’m far too old to want to be a dad.

      Chorus

I’m laughing, she’s crying,

her monthly fear of dying,

I think it’s PMT,

when she takes it out on me.

This was previously released in it's demo form on "Is this England" a compilation CD of bands we've played with over the past few years. Mr Hannaford had some scribbled words in his notebook which we collabarated on at his luxurious penthouse suite in Newhaven. Dedicated to Nikki (sorry)

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 Sticks and Stones

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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The boys had a bender, on the other side of town,
seven pints of lager, with a chaser every round,
a few familiar faces, were giving us the eye,
we wern’t going nowhere, so we offered ‘em outside.
     Sticks and stones will break your bones,
     but words mean nothing, 
     vengence is an ugly crime,
     but we've got to do something?
They had but one intention, to settle an old score,
as the bottles started flying, someone called the law,
although we were out-numbered, we had to stand our ground,
a night out to remember, on the other side of town.
     Chorus
We had a different post code, our faces didn’t fit,
made to feel un-welcome, but couldn’t give a shit,
seven were arrested, a night spent in a cell,
home in time for breakfast, innocent as hell!
     Chorus

Very "Oi" inspired, but in a minor key giving a slightly different feel. This started life known as "Postcode punch-up"

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 CCTV

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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On every corner, in every town,
there is a camera, looking down.
Are you the subject? maybe it’s me,
somebody’s watching, on C.C.T.V.
won’t go to heaven if I choose to steal that car,
can’t drown my sorrows at the bar.
     Oh no, not me
     this ain’t reality,
     big brothers watching you,
     tune in to,- 
     C.C.T.V.
What a performance, day in day out,
if that’s entertainment, I’ve reasonable doubt.
I’m not an actor, ain’t won no award,
a pose for the camera, so naturally bored.
I’ll plead not guilty though my alibi ain’t strong,
don’t judge the jury ‘cos they’re wrong.

     Oh no, not me, 

     this ain’t reality,

     big brothers watching you,

     tune in to,-

     C.C.T.V.

My personal favourite on this collection. Another of Sheldon's ideas that I called to order. I pinched the radio bit from one of those police documentary programs that's on every night of the week.

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 Anthem

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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You want me to write an anthem, - that’s really not my bag,
I don’t do songs to sing along ‘cos I find them all a drag,
I ain’t no human jukebox,
so I can’t play your request,
but when you’ve gone, I’ll carry on and do what I do best.
My formula is simple, - I’ll keep it short and sweet,
I like to rhyme in 4/4 time with lyrics on the beat,
and just before the chorus,
there’s a bridge that I must cross,
so all aboard this major chord where melody is boss.
So here it is,- my anthem, I wrote it just for you,
the words are wrong and it’s far too long, - two minutes fifty two,
I could use another hook line,
forget the middle eight?
well if that’s all right, I’ll sleep tonight, the mix will have to wait.
It doesn't need a solo,
but I’ve done one anyway,
you’ll be amazed, its nicely phrased,
to show off I can play.
You want me to write an anthem,
that’s really not my bag.

In answer to a request that I write more "anthemic" songs, I came up with this. A song about a song, not very punk rock is it? but wait 'til ya hear the bit at the end. I'm glad I don't conform to the norm!

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 No surrender!

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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Cocaine, Junk and L.S.D.
put the fear of god in me,
I get no kicks from beer and fags,
jerkin’ off to mucky mags,
my boots are clean but the mind is dirty.
Places, faces far way,
deceipt and lies a price to pay,
can’t you paint a bigger picture?
‘cos I’ve become a neutral fixture,
this joke is cracked but no one’s laughing.
     On a one way street there’s no surrender,
     no retreat or turning back,
     you know my name, you know my number,
     please let me in.
Helter skelter, black September,
one free ride ‘cos I’m a member,
I’m at the top, going down again,
ain’t felt this good since I don’t know when,
my fake I.D. is as good as sterling.
     Chorus
And I can’t control my white line fever,
should I flush this chain or pull the lever,
call my bluff and ring my bell,
wake me when I’m feeling well,
dawn has broke but the light is fading.

     Chorus

Can I be forgiven for not knowing where I was going when I was writing this? You have to read between the lines to come up with nothing. I'd give up my day job if I had one!

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 Another soldier

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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Another soldier died today,
lost in action so far away,
they told his story on the news at ten,
here we go again, - not another soldier.
He joined the army at seventeen,
on parade, his uniform pristine,
his parents joy, watching in the crowd,
so very proud of their little soldier.
It started out as such a thrill,
intensive course in how to shoot and kill,
loaded guns no longer toys,
he’s one of the boys, a fighting soldier.
The battle raged on the shifting sand,
inflicting torment to a foreign land,
taken hostage by the enemy,
grim reality of another soldier.
There are ways and means,
to disquise his screams,
kicked and beaten he could take no more.
They found his body somewhere out of town,
no uniform just naked facing down,
the silent guns and the smell of death,
his dying breath, was to die a soldier.
I mentioned earlier about the death theme, well, it can't get closer to reality than this. Everyday it appears we lose a soldier in a war that shouldn't be. This is one of the best songs I have ever written.

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 This is what we do

Words & Music by Paul D. Waghorn

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It’s a long, long way to Leicester, around the 25,
‘cos it’s all uphill from Brighton, when no one wants to drive.
We play for love, not money, it’s rare when we get paid,
no chance of fame or fortune, or even getting laid.
     So get out and support the chosen few,
     'cos we would be nothing without you,
     this is what we do.
We love the Black Marias, First Wave and All Flags Burn,
we’re all in this together, so listen, look and learn.
Punks and skins united, the boys from Citizen Keyne,
Saxby and his Warriors, the UK Vacant team.
     Chorus
For some the night is over, we trust you had such fun,
it’s a long drive home to Sussex, to see the rising sun,
but if you bought the T-Shirt, maybe a CD too,
we’ll be your friend forever, and we’d like to say, -
Thank you!
     Chorus

Dedicated to all the bands who perform for little or nothing other than enjoyment playing second (or third) fiddle to "name" acts. We deserve more but we ain't gonna get it!