[the ikara cult]

Originally Posted by jon boy

when i lived in leeds my mum came to visit one day when we where playing milwall. the look on her face when the bus windows the milwall fans where on came through and a large bald drunk man was punched by another large bald man was an image i cant ever forget.

'you'll never make it to the sation, you'll never make it to the station...'

 

The evil is not in extremes
It's in the aftermath
The middle mass
After the fact
Vulturous in the aftermath

Summer close season
A quiet dope and cider man
But during the season
Hard drug and cider mates

The boy is like a tape loop
The boy is like a uh-uh

Not much contact
Drinking, the men wait
They are set at nought
Because cripple states a holy state
Because cripple states a holy state
The Werhmacht never got in here
The Werhmacht never got in here
The Werhmacht never got in here
The Werhmacht never got in here
Thought it took us six years
The werhmacht never got in here
And living here you whisper, bub
And living here you whisper, bub!

This boy is like a tape loop
And he has soft mitts
But he's the last domain
Of a very black, back room brain
He learned a word today
The word's misanthropy
And he's running to and from
The cats from tin pan alley
And he's running with and from
The cats from tin pan alley
And going down the alley
Take the cats from the alley
Up to them
The alley's full of cats from tin pan

Come into the back room Brian
And meet
The middle mass
The middle mass
Vulturous in the aftermath
Middle mass