Excerpt for F.A.T.E: Alphas and Betas by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Copyright 2018 Andrew Robert Chapman

Published by Andrew Robert Chapman at Smashwords

Edition 2019.2.1

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

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Table of Contents









Keep ‘em Poor

Scarlet Women

War Dogs

Wean (Myself)

White Privilege

Song background information




Keep ‘em Poor

Scarlet Women

War Dogs

Wean (Myself)

White Privilege

Song breakdown/explanation


War Dogs


About the author

Other books by the author

Contacts and Links


In computing the term ALPHA refers to a program or application which is in a useable but unfinished state, effectively a prototype. It is neither fit for production, release nor sale and, indeed, may be subject to a major rework or even consignment to the digital scrapheap. The term BETA refers to the phase of software development where the program more or less represents its final form and is usually exposed to a select group of future users for testing, feedback and fine-tuning.

It is in the computing sense of the words that this book’s song lyrics are presented.

The ALPHAs have all been put to music, albeit a simplistic bass or guitar melody and, although the standard of the resultant audio file can by no means be compared to that of a professional studio recording, they serve to give the listener a good idea of the rhythm and metre of the lyrics.

Audio files which have the backing instrumentation of a band, but quality reminiscent of a 1970’s bootleg, are referred to as BETAs and have been crudely recorded during band rehearsals. These files effectively represent the finished state of the song before work starts in a professional recording studio.

The names of the audio files are suffixed with a six figure number, representing the date they were recorded. For example, WarDogs-180710 was recorded on the 10th of July 2018. BETA songs are characterized by BETA in the file’s name.

ALPHA lyrics are subject to frequent change, polish and optimisation but I only occasionally have the time to record the revised vocals. That is why the lyrics sung on the MP3s, linked to in this book, often won’t reflect the more up-to-date written words.


When I starting compiling this book’s content I was asked for whom I was writing it for. I replied “For myself.”

Contrary to all advice concerning writing eBOOKs, my motivation is not to appeal to a wide audience, achieve international fame nor make a fortune, large or small. The song lyrics in this book were written with the hope and intention that they one day achieve immortality on a professionally produced studio CD. But, since I started writing poems in 2012, the amount of rhymes, ditties and lyrics has swollen to the extent that any plan to record them all is hopelessly unrealistic.

Thus, instead of them languishing unrevealed, unread and unheard of, a plan formed to make them accessible to the world via a self-published eBOOK. Should just a single word, line, stanza or refrain from the book’s lyrics raise a smile, give pause for thought or even manage to inspire a single person, then my time and effort have been more than worthwhile and rewarded.


In 2012 I was asked to write lyrics for several band projects, one of which was to lead to the formation of the rock band WildScreW and culminate with the production of a studio CD, “Writing On The Wall”*, at the end of 2016 with myself as vocalist.

The CD’s title song was to become a finalist in the 19th Great American Song Contest.

*Paperback readers must navigate themselves manually to the hyperlinks embedded directly in the eBOOK by referring to the “Contacts and Links” section, where all relevant hyperlinks can be found, including the location of any audio files.


The songs in this book represent my work on new ALPHA/BETA material for a band project called F.A.T.E., formed in 2017 and named after its members (Frank Suß, Andy Chapman, Tobi Muff and Erich May) four of the five members of the disbanded WildScreW.

All guitar, bass, vocals and vocal melodies for the ALPHAs were recorded by myself on a home PC using REAPER and married to prose which either already existed in my archives or was written from scratch.


The eBOOK links to my WORDPRESS site SONGANDVERSE reveal that I write my lyrics using a colour code to optically highlight the various song parts. Thus the simply typed PRE-CHORUS and CHORUS serve to reflect the text contained in their equally colour coded counterparts at the start of the song. BRIDGE and PARLANDO parts of a song are also uniquely coloured, in order to visually separate them from the other song parts.

Unfortunately, for eBOOK compatibility, all text has been coloured black/automatic.


The clock tower strikes thirteen, where a church used to stand.

Since the slaughter of the Holy Wars, religion has been banned.

Against gender-hate, it was decreed: that the sexes are the same.

A sea of dreary dungarees address each other plain “comrade”.

When your offspring love and serve, the deep State.

When you can’t find the words to, communicate.

You are ordered when and where to, express your hate.

Welcome to the nightmare, we’re just running somewhat late

(Welcome to) 1984

Educated to know nothing, heads devoid of all views.

No one dare contradict, Big-Media’s news.

Sweet dystopia! Double-plus good, eternal war against “terror”.

“The Party” keeping dumb proles safe, the perfect blameless oppressor.

When you daren’t talk to strangers, in the room.

When your children spy and report, your every move.

When you’ve literally nothing, left to lose.

Welcome to the nightmare, we’re just a little overdue.



When laws defend the lawless, plutocrats.

Corporations throttle free speech, and middle-class.

Life’s dictated by the dead hand, of the past.

Welcome to the nightmare, the New World Order, at last!

Copyright 23.9.2015 Andrew Robert Chapman


Drivin’ hard – day and night.

Out of my mind, out of sight.

They want my ass – dead or alive!

I ain’t goin’ down – without a fight.

Got Gold. Got guns.

Beer, bullets an’ a truck full o’ fun!

I’m out in the Badlands

Got guns. Got Gold.

A slim momma an’ an open road!

We’re out in the Badlands

Way out in the Badlands

Bidin’ time – kickin’ cans,

’round ‘n’ ’round circlin’ the pan.

When this shitstorm hits the fan?

Activate my masterplan!

Get guns. Get Gold.

A fast chopper an’ an open road!

Head out to the Badlands


Head out to the Badlands

Way out in the Badlands

Deep down in the Badlands

Good times in the Badlands

Copyright 12.6.2018 Andrew Robert Chapman


Yesterday livin’ wild ‘n’ fast, today trapped in intrigue.

Like a lamb, led to the slaughter, I’m way outta my league.

She’s got all bases well-an’-truly covered, there’s no place left to hide.

Every sinew-screamin, “Stay for the ride”.

She’s got the moves, got the rhythm, got the finest kit.

She’s in control, on a roll. I’m champing at the bit.

(Dominatrix). She got the whip hand.

(Dominatrix). I am just a man,

(Dominatrix). playin’ by her rules

(Dominatrix). mind my Ps and Qs.


Whips ‘n’ paddles, rope ‘n’ chains, leather, skin and rubber.

Birthday suit ‘n’ thigh-length boots, my dominating lover

makes me flinch, makes me plead, screams “No pain no gain!”

Got me begging on my knees, crying out her name.

She’s got the moves, got the rhythm, a sexual pastiche.

She’s in control, on a roll. I’m straining at the leash.


Suffocation, golden showers, acronyms galore.

My lady taught me what pain means, dirty BDSM whore.

Alas good things come to an end, nothing is forever!

But I am marked, I can’t forget, my mistress dressed in leather.


Copyright 23.3.2016 Andrew Robert Chapman

Keep ’em Poor

I scoff at your Gods and your beliefs, for the bloodshed they have caused.

The pain, the suff’rin’, the righteous spite and countless religious wars.

In the name of peace, in the name of love, convert or burn in Hell.

Tortures and slaughters in the name of the Lord, front A paedophile cartel.

Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor.

Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor.

Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor.

Keep ’em poor, keep ’em poor.

All high and mighty preachin’ pious hate from Bethels built of blood.

Pompous rituals right in the face of the boundless starving poor.

An obedient flock, good little sheep, all useless braindead eaters.

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