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Barbed Wire and Brass E​.​P.

by emperor penguin

/
1.
Every time you look into his eyes a switch goes dead in your head Then every little lie he wants to try will find a home in your bed Tell me that you’ll exercise some caution when he says ‘you’re the one’ He’s a prophet of the falsest kind so don’t come back to me, when he’s gone He’s a dead loss, waste of space who wouldn’t know the truth if it walked right past him You can’t see what we see, he’s simply an apology so just ignore him He would sell every member of his family if he found a buyer Can’t trust a single syllable that he utters with a grin when he says God loves a tryer Turn round and start running, you should have seen him coming His promises have pie-crusts, easily made and broken Every time you look into his eyes a switch goes dead in your head Then every little lie he wants to try will find a home in your bed Tell me that you’ll exercise some caution when he says ‘you’re the one’ He’s a prophet of the falsest kind so don’t come back to me, when he’s gone Don’t look into his e - - y - - e - - s ... he’s a false prophet Don’t look into his e - - y - - e - - s ... Don’t look into his e - - y - - e - - s ... Don’t look into his e - - y - - e - - s ... he’s a false prophet false prophet false prophet
2.
Blame it on your stupid cousin, thirteenth in the baker’s dozen Happening again and again Fresh from singing hymns of hope, dispensing justice with a rope In the hands of twelve angry men The look of indecision is the same for friend or foe By order of the donkeys you are told it’s time to go What you get is what you see, interlocking travesties In the hands of twelve angry men They ploughed it in beneath the sod, thinking they’d complete the job In a world behind a looking glass The moon will rise above the fields, and every year the harvest yields Another hoard of barbed wire and brass The look of indecision is the same for friend or foe By order of the donkeys you get told it’s time to go They’ll nail you to a piece of wood, and tell you it’s for your own good The wisdom of the twelve angry men You met the Kaiser’s daughter and she’s looking rather cute Run it up the flagpole see if anyone salutes What you get is what you see, interlocking travesties In the hands of twelve angry men Men, men, - we’re the angry men Men, men, - we’re the angry men Prejudice obscures the truth Who can tell the lies from proof? You say you didn’t do it You can say it once again You can tell it to the 12 angry men You can tell it to the 12 angry men
3.
Red-haired daughter with the palest arms Weaving and weeping all day The fairest one among the women Veils her face in shining linen. Robe made of silk from a distant land slippers that glitter with gold Compromising circumstances Would not repel his bold advances He leads the cavalcade He’s at the head of the parade He’s got two wives and two religions Oooooh, Helena Oooooh, Helena Oh, Helena Oh, Helena Rome was her oyster but the seafood spoiled So, she turned her back on the world She left her father, lost her mother Kept away from all the others Something in a dream Led the seekers to the scene Turning suffering to devotion Oooooh, Helena Oooooh, Helena Oh, Helena Oh, Helena
4.
The curtains are closing on his last November, a box of possessions lies open Fingers move dust from the letters and photos, memories of words left unspoken start to awaken and crystallise into the birth of their affair Sixty years later he sits with a lock of her hair The house seems to sense that there’s one of them missing, a vacuum in every corner He took all her clothes to a shop in the village, their scent which he used to absorb her Gone are the thousands of shampoo and sets she perfected in the town square Sixty years later he stares at a lock of her hair The years cascade and fold in on themselves, calendars will fade into farewells He almost hears the peal of their wedding bells, melting time and portraits on the bookshelf Casting their spell... He pulls up the covers and stares at the moon, it’s almost as if she was still there Sooner than later her hand will reach out to him, lead him to where she went back to No one will care what became of that lock of hair

about

"Slick sounds underwrite humorous and intelligent lyrics, alongside occasional left field moves as catchy hooks, rooted in post-punk, powerpop and psych-infused art-rock abound. The influence of XTC, Elvis Costello, Squeeze and Nick Lowe can be heard throughout." Shindig!

"Emperor Penguin is back with an impressive third EP, lots of different style elements here; prog, new wave, and power pop. Slick production and melodies that stick!" powerpopaholic.com

"Sonically, the record reminds me of The Beatles in White Album mode while the lyrics are so Elvis Costello." PoprockRecord.com

credits

released October 16, 2020

JT - vocals, bass, guitar
Neil Christie - vocals, guitar, keyboards
Nigel Winfield - vocals, guitar
Richard Wilson - drums, piano

Recored at home and at Highbury Fields Forever Studios, 2020.
Mixed and mastered by Cameron Lister.

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emperor penguin UK

Savage Frenzy Productions is proud to present those peerless purveyors of powerful pop: EMPEROR PENGUIN.
Nigel: guitar, bass, vocals
JT: guitar, bass, vocals, harmonica, ebow
Rich: drums
Neil: guitar, vocals, keyboards, computer stuff
... more

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