All dressed up and we got somewhere to go
We're all dressed up in our Sunday clothes
Me and my baby
See us walking down the road
We're going to the hop
Down at the hall you'll find us dancing
I'm dancing right across the floor
Me and my baby
See the people
Hear them shout for more
Me and my baby
See us doing all those fancy steps
We're dancing at the hop
This dance is the coolest yet
One boy he grabs a foreign girl
And he never even asked her name
He wants a dance
And he wants it now
And he can dance
Let me show you how(Music: Owen, Steer)
(Lyrics: Walker)
Insipid fumes bellow from the atrabilious chimney
Whilst in the sanctified crevet I calmly pillage and rake
For hot dry powdered human slag
Still steaming in the crematorium's grate
Bio-organic ebullition, bones tar, tallow dehydrates
For my deleterious horticulture so that I may cultivate
Your mortal mechanism dies - in nutrients rich
In the hallowed turf you lie - just for the taking
Charred sinew's as good as lime, no phosphates do I need
Deteriorated flesh used as top-soil, to replenish and nourish seed
Spreading this human potash, as ash matured
Recycling my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for use as manure...
Irrigating tears are shed, but the ground still must be fed
And there's no rest for the dead
(Lead fills: Dust in the mausoleum by W.G. Steer)
Tipping and dusting up the spilt contents of urns
Every morsel that glows like ember on the fire
Extinguishing all hope of beatrific dispatch
These charred chassis desired
Exequiet rites now performed, a coronach sooting up the flu
Enter my execrable inferno, even in the after-life there's work to do
The nitrogen content's high - but the flesh is weak
At the graveside mourners cry - you're never to wake again
(Lead: Compost humous horticulture by M. Amott)
Burnt brisket renews the ground, to germinate my seed
Cremated bodies are my spoil, to use them as plant-feed
Ploughing this abhorrent human manure
Seedling my rich harvest, bring out your dead...for the soils to devour...
Dry the dead are bled, because the ground must be fed
And there's still no rest for the dead
(Lead: Humanure by W.G. Steer)
I propagate - dust in the grate
Ashes to ashes - dust to dust, diluted in water and sprayed on crops
Charcoal, fats, flesh and soot fertilising pasture with active fertile rot
Incumbent - latent calories are spent
Ashes to ashes - dust to dust renewing the land with corpse