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Why Can't You Write Something Nice For A Change?

by Tingle In The Netherlands

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Zoë
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Zoë Deranged and full of joy. It's everything I love about 80's music, filtered through the minds of the insane. The absurdity of the lyrics and whimsical nature of the music are superb, Favorite track: A Forest Of Cocks.
Lee Adcock
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Lee Adcock I love this. To no end. All the delicious darkness of EDM and early synthpop, but even more absurd and demented than before. Brilliant. Favorite track: I Lost My Heart To A Starship Cleaner.
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1.
Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag in a ditch Prostitute’s handbag sleeping with fish Prostitute’s handbag made in China Prostitute’s handbag bought with vagina It’s full of rubbers; I’m being honest It’s got more rubber than a rubber tappers’ forest Prostitute’s handbag with shiny clasp Prostitute’s handbag has gasped its last Prostitute’s handbag full of pants and socks Smooth patent leather like a cock with botox Tampons, lipstick, mobile phone, If it’s on vibrate, leave her alone. Prostitute’s handbag rotting to the core Prostitute’s handbag the world of a whore Prostitute’s handbag deep under ground Prostitute’s handbag lost unfound Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Prostitute’s handbag Lyrics by Helên Thomas with additional killer lines and filthy rhymes from Owen J.
2.
Meadows glean chided braveries in their smiling rook caution sipping ether in their tea, Temperate hedges the sidelines of corporate philanthropy emitting a visceral cry of slaughtered heartache that sweats your guilt onto the linen. Passwords flinging my ripped brain matter onto the point of pointlessness jab into reality with a Brompton Cocktail please, The scanner doodles ape words onto the sky of November withering with glee at the hirsute clouds of it all as we filter the earth, The tock tock of unsynchronised clocks mocks the nightly weather reporters’ patterns of meaningless, Fur lined faux temptation rustles the chill of jigsawed teeth at the entrance of the metallic cave, Bubbles taunt the static heads of wax coated eels hot spitting hiss flared incantations from diluted sun, Molten teeth drip magma smiles into moth eyed hollows, Tethered rain forces its sadness into the guffawing mouths of courtesans and oafs, Eyelids froth the bile of yesterday’s tears into the metal lungs of remorseful dogs, And so the darkness blinds the overhang of fleecy meadows that float through the tripesque skies of dappled withering. Chlorine cackle follows starfruit metamorphosis, The tarmac face mask of old cannot hide the laughter of winter whistling through panes like coiled spent automatic toys, Snow prompts ringside cold princess into feral games of sadistic stage psychokinesis, The wings of hope splutter dry their nuclear dream mistaken for snow bringing shadows to Japanese pavements, When they opened up his heart they found it was full of urine. Feathered dogs breathe velour into their masters’ pulmonary ephemera transplanting eyes into the sockets of a blind doll, The nuthatch winks at the one eyed half moon its mimic re-boot stirring the hedgelings to the rain of their forefather’s ire; no-one hears, Canal mouth of a lake of wires, Tentacles of daylight retracting into space, Dusty crash of a voice sensor strobe, Fat neon words like modelled balloons advertise has-beens, clowns, sex-shops, and distorted strip tease in the deep lake of a hall of mirrors, The dearth of woodwind finds ribboned heartache dribbling down the walls of blue crystal hotels in Siberia, Bomb a sky of clouds for a single drop, swallow at source your smile and walk away, Red lips for eyes cry holes full of laughter into the rotting eyes, ears, hair and mink coats of the skin and bone rich bitch old ladies of The Ritz. Devilish thoughts proclaim the spire of night as fingernails sail the sky in a flotilla of new moons traversing the witching hour sea with their venomous cargo, A starburst revolt of bilious dreams and ego roasted spittle eroding hard leather of annoyed, brave face hears crop sprayed crazy pave sound wave from frozen fog cotton mouth, Crow beaked horses gallop through a forest of cocks. Lyrics mostly by Helên Thomas with additional killer lines from Owen J.
3.
We met on a rocket ship on a special mission to mars You joked about catching moonbeams and sending them home in a jar In a silver heat resistant boiler suit you stole my heart Now I stargaze into space wondering where you are. This little rock we’re living on could vanish without trace You said you had cosmic work to do out in hyperspace And that it could be up to you to save the human race Zooming round quicker than light and sound in a supersonic carapace Down to earth on the interstate feeling some consternation A love triangle’s not my idea of a beautiful constellation Star crossed this woman’s scorned there’ll be no hesitation Got my gun and a diaper on speeding to a new destination Lyrics by Helên Thomas
4.
You can carry your own torch I aint carryin’ it for you no more Oh no. You took my love for granted I took it for granted that you’d snore Oh yeah. And if what you don’t know won’t harm you Then I’d really like you to know… That I’m shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman And I’m shagging him good. You don’t give me any money Then you say I look a mess Oh yes. I got a gold top off the milkman; he likes the way that I dress Oh yes. His resistance cannot fight me When he sees me in me nightie. Shagging the milkman, shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman, shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman, shagging the milkman Shagging him good! My love for you has curdled I wish you’d go away I’ll leave a note out for the milkman So I can have an extra pinta today. You called me a cow With floppy udders So now I’ve found myself another... Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging him good. Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Yes I’m shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Yes I’m shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Yes I’m shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman Shagging the milkman (repeat to fade) Lyrics by Helên Thomas
5.
Mammals 06:08
-The pontiff is a mammal -The mating behaviour of the monarch is unusually flexible -Radar operators have been known to resort to cannibalism -Up to 10% of astronauts are homosexual -The pilot produces the largest volume of ejaculate among primates and copulates with the greatest frequency -A police officer is made up of 100 trillion cells -The prime minister produces one pint of saliva a day -Fashion designers will risk their lives to protect their young -An estimated 1.7% of bishops are born with some degree of sexual ambiguity -The president contains 6KG of nitrogen -The film star¹s body consists of 60% water and contains 5 litres of blood -The aristocrat¹s secondary sexual characteristics include facial hair and enlarged breasts -The socialite¹s intestine is between 7 and 8 metres long - in their lifetime they will produce 45000 tonnes of waste matter -The corporate lawyer¹s skeleton is made up of 206 bones - The pontiff has 300 teeth and can reach speeds of up to 40 miles per hour - Radar operators can live for up to 8000 years - The aristocrat will frequently eat its own young - Monarchs frequently change sex during adolescence - The socialist can see in colour for up to 700 miles - The astronaut contains 80 KG of nitrogen - The pontiff has 300 teeth and can reach speeds of up to 40 miles per hour - Radar operators can live for up to 8000 years - The aristocrat will frequently eat its own young - The socialist can see in colour for up to 700 miles - The pontiff has 300 teeth and can reach speeds of up to 40 miles per hour - Radar operators can live for up to 8000 years - The pontiff has 300 teeth and can reach speeds of up to 40 miles per hour Lyrics by Owen J.
6.
7.
I lost my heart to a starship cleaner Drinking Flash in hyperspace I lost my heart to a starship cleaner Caustic fluids oozed out of his face! Lyrics by Owen J and Helên Thomas
8.
so bass pumping, sticky sizzle, tacky toffee hot you'd fry she giggles, winks and wiggles, on stiletto heels too high empty straw gurgles, cherry lips drain milkshake dry with powder puff fluff doggie, titillation totters by she's bubblegum, pink polkadot, rasps a girly, "Hi!" flirty skirt, tight low shirt, lids flutter; gives the eye butt so pert, hard tits alert; heaves a wanton sigh coy, beguiling, slutty girl could make a grown man cry sly coquettish, knows your fetish, doesn't have to try dream soft skin, you'd jump right in; in ecstasy you'd die ripe red wet mouth, dilated pupils know you will comply finger licking kiss curl twirled, too sweet to tell a lie she role plays, “Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth; I’m so shy!” but she’s a bird of prey, she pulls you closer with your tie lashes quiver, talons linger on your bulging fly only when you're snared and hard, you'll find out she's a guy. Lyrics by Helên Thomas
9.
Moonlight Daisies Honey Peaches Songbirds Kisses Blue Skies Laughter Paxil Ice cream Kittens Rainbows Sweetness Clover Sparkles Prozac Cotton Candy Flowers Sunbeams Lithium Serax Seashells Glitter Cherries Bluebells Frosting Stardust Nardil Roses Milkshake Lustral Snowflakes Magic Bubbles Cup Cakes Sweet Dreams Poppies Zispin Valium Fragrance Feathers Sunset Dancing Zoloft Bunnies Love hearts Xanax Lyrics by Helên and Owen in equal measure.
10.
365 06:56
Toothy tunnels bite into the traffic Birds survive on seed that stores the sun Baubles yawn adornment from the attic Refuseniks hibernate and shun the fun. Consign modish winter to the dustbin Skirts the florrid bulbous drinkers’ hue Gypsy moth’s a silkworm in a tailspin Green fashionista’s thinly skinned anew. Imbibe languid pomegranate sunscapes Tequila orange juice smears on the page Wizened wiser fruit mature from free grapes The final act the sepia flames of age Twizzling toffee apple solar systems Cowebbed Ebenezer greys your soul Happy bop Halloweens red headrush with them ‘Top of the Pops’ is making me feel old. Lyrics by Helên Thomas

about

Debut album by Tingle In The Netherlands.

credits

released February 14, 2013

Most music some words: Owen J
Most words some music: Helên T

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Tingle In The Netherlands Manchester, UK

Electro-pop collaboration between poet Helên Thomas & electronic musician Owen J based in Manchester UK.

Others have likened our sound to bands such as Kraftwerk, Ladytron, Chris & Cosey, Severed Heads, Soft Cell, Human League & Vince Clarke.
Although we have performed at Ste McCabe’s 'Pussywhipped' in Manchester, we consider ourselves to be a studio band & do not have any plans to perform live.
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