Checkin' Out / No-one Cares Infected / Tipuki Thunder
Never ones to disappoint, GBH have provided an EP on
which the music tears along like no-one's business though 'Tipuki Thunder' is a
much more sedate track and nicely finishes off the EP. I much prefer the
version of 'Checkin' Out' used here to the one subsequently recorded for the Fridge Too Far album. The packaging of this EP is
pretty good too with the budget even stretching to the taking of a nice big
photo of the band for the back cover. The tracks comprising this EP were later
included on the No Need To Panic CD re-release.
Checkin' Out
Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder
I'm in the wrong place, my face doesn't fit,
and I said "Motherfucker" when the bullet hit.
I bit on deep, I bit on hard,
all we got left now are memories and scars.
Think you're hard done by ?
at least you're alive.
See the guy checkin' out of Room 705.
Checkin' out now, checkin out the (Rat Race baby).
The squeakers are coming, contagious appeal,
I've had enough now, how do you feel ?
The shotguns are scary, the fireworks are fun,
Every day we take a call,
then another curtain call.
No One Cares
Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder
The night air's cool but your system's not,
you stand for what you care for, not for what you've got.
The streets are mean, keep your conscience clean,
you've gotta wrap up from the cold.
An' no-one cares with the stairy eyes,
an' no-one cares in the neon rays.
An' no-one cares if you're laughing or crying,
an' no-one cares if you're lving or dying.
Paranoia hits me like a bolt from hell,
you don't don't know what they're thinking, ain't no way to tell.
Throat gets tight, knuckles go white,
this is one ride you don't get off.
No-one cares, no-one cares,
he who wins is he who dares.
You cling to your posessions, make sure you make your claim,
'cus in this dirty jungle, stayin' alive is the aim.
Gotta be bold, don't trust a soul,
don't you know that walls have ears ?
Infected
Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder
You wake up one day,
to find you've been thrown away.
You've got no energy to speak,
you're just too damn weak.
Infected, infected,
injected misdirected.
Infected, infected,
and to it we're all subjected.
Your true self can't be found,
too busy slothing around.
You're staring into the sky,
death reflected in your eye.
M8 debts are chasing you down the street,
you run along on unsteady feet.
Wonder why you've got a turkey attack,
with a monkey livin' on your back.
Go on and stick it in,
gotta puncture the skin.
All of your loves in vain,
it's like playin' with a train.
Tipuki Thunder
Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder
He lives his life down on the beach,
his grilfriend's got the skin of a peach.
He likes a good time and he knows how to get it,
rolls his own, you've gotta give him credit.
As the waves come crashing to the shore,
Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more.
Don't need booze or no whore,
Tipuki Thunder give me more, more, more.
Tipuki Thunder, maui waui lightning.
His pockets bulge with wonders from all over the world,
and he's a real big bro' to all the boys and girls.
Holds his own but does tend to drawl,
he's got a photo of us going over the Niagra Falls.
He's a nice guy but don't mess with him,
he's a nice guy but don't mess with him.
He call us the 'jeebers' and takes us to gigs,
'cus back in the States you know, we're pretty big.
But I had to be down, I could not compete,
with air in my head and lead in my feet.
When he came to London the saw,
a midnight flit to find another bed.
But back home on the beach he can do no harm,
with his video collection and Charlie farm.
He's a nice guy but don't mess with him,
or you'll end up with a pair of concerete boots.
