Pastoral Existence by Other Half

And after years of this shit, I think the resolve might be starting to slip
So let’s quit, up and move to the sticks and find a regular fix
Some leather-clad creep in a farmhouse, with more cash than he knows how to spend

A pastoral existence, sounds like a bliss to me

Weekends waving at families in hatchbacks, as our eyes roll to the back of our heads
Walking the 3 miles down to the mill, man, just to get there and push you in
And I hold your head under the water, a minute longer than I probably should
You come up spluttering trying to scream, so I grab your head and do it again

A pastoral existence, sounds like a bliss to me

Attracting animals close enough to kick, and kicking them as hard as we can
Terrorising the local community, actually giving them something to think about
And I think about the things we’ve done, man, in the grotesque quiet of night
Then kill it with the last of the stockpile, the rest we can leech off the land

A pastoral existence, sounds like a bliss to me

• Punk
• indie
• noise
• noise rock
• pigfuck
• post hardcore
• post punk
• post-hardcore
• post-punk
• punk
• punk rock
• Norwich