Folk Dance from Folk Dance by Dog Explosion

Folk Dance


Old fashioned drums pick out the beat
Thick skins flappin' under sacred sheets
Flying half-mast on familiar streets
Pickin' and lickin' at the red wall meat

Flying far too low in the forbidden zone
Over hostile tribes of outdated clones
Hard-working, hard-drinking, hard-nosed to the bone
They gave birth to the first in a long line of drones

Lickin' up the dust as the servants dance
Ringin' out the bells and the sweaty pants
Uploading content to the hater banks
For a last little dribble of innocence

As word filters down to the grebs on the ground
Balls roll round, no team-players to be found
Interrupting the stream in the final dream
All for the glory of the opposite team

New creatures emerge in the ultimate purge
It's an eye for an eye and bloody hell on earth
And they're shaking and pounding on the banquet barge
Extracting juices in the final surge

• E.B.M
• Electronic
• Industrial
• Post-punk
• Punk
• Vocal
• Nottingham