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2014: Lyrics & Poems

Copyright 2019 Andrew Robert Chapman

Published by Andrew Robert Chapman at Smashwords

Edition 2019.2.6

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents





Too Late

Cluster Fuck

Down The Rabbit Hole

Untrue (3 Verse)






Walpurgis Night

Walking On Air


Deathly Grey

End Of Beauty (3 Verse)


(You Don't) Cut It

Song background information

Cluster Fuck




Song breakdown/explanation

Down The Rabbit Hole




About the author

Other books by the author

Contacts and Links


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.


Before I joined eleven of my lyrics to musical melodies and sang them with a rock band in a professional recording studio, I used to take an inordinate amount of time fettling my rhymes so that, at least to my mind, the metre, the rhythm, the pace, the meaning, everything I considered vital to the flow and comprehension, was as perfect as I could manage.

I was effectively writing poems.

I was to quickly learn, however, that as soon as a poem is put to music, the strict rules which apply to prose become extremely lax or are completely thrown out of the window. The words which now wrap themselves around a musical melody can be shortened or lengthened by the articulation of the singer in a way which can not be donated or conveyed in a poem’s written form (although I sometimes attempt this by breaking words with hyphens or compressing them to phonetics). Furthermore music producers and studio adaptations and necessities place further demands on a songwriter and a song’s structure, which cause last minute lyrical rewrites and polishing in the studio.

And thus it was I decided, after my experience with WildScreW, that I would purposely leave all my future poetic efforts in a much rawer and less-polished state. Should the occasion arise that such a poem is put to music, then that would be the time to spend the extra effort refining, polishing and honing the rhymes.

Over the years I have also discovered that it is best to literally dump to (digital) paper what ever words and ideas are coursing through one’s mind: Effectively not applying a filter. When I started writing poetry I too often thought “This idea is too puerile!” or “This isn’t my style!” or some other reason not to progress with whatever idea had pushed its way to the front of my mind. And, in my case at least, that usually led to writer’s block, as my work on a different idea would be hindered by the interference from recurring themes from the original, blocked poem. By starting (though not necessarily finishing) any ideas which come into my head, my mind finds closure with that thought concept and is free and uncluttered to move unencumbered onto the next idea, although it is also the reason why there will be a certain tally of poems which are in dire need of polish, fettling and which even contain unfinished lines or rhymes.

Poetry, in all its forms, is an art. You either like a painter’s realism phase or their abstract work. Rarely both. But I hope you stumble across a couple of rhymes which make the time you’ve taken to read them more than worth your while.

2014 was a year in which around half the total lyrical work was married to WildScreW musical melodies. Turning the poems into songs.

The WildScrew songs “Untrue” and “Misery”, which were developed from Thomas Wild’s guitar melodies, so called ALPHAs, were penned and professionally recorded on the studio CD which was released at the start of 2017. “Untrue” was based on a three verse poem of the same name and “Misery” was developed from a poem titled “End Of Beauty” (the original title of Thomas Wild’s guitar melody) and was sung as such until a couple of months before the band went into the studio.

The WildScreW ALPHAs “Down The Rabbit Hole”, “Ballbreaker”, “Heartbreaker” (based on “E.M.P.”), “Walpurgis Night” and “Walking On Air” are, in my opinion, all useable ALPHAs and hopefully will one day also be recorded as part of a professional CD album.

The songs are presented chronologically in the order they were written and copyrighted.


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.

Too Late

A wedge of black swans fills the sky in the East.

Quiet voices of reason are long silenced by the Beast.

The paper-trail burns before the golden goose-chase.

Too late to turn and run – so best put on your bravest face.

And the puppet masters laugh,

watching their tired puppets burn.

The meek seeking their wrath,

the lowliest worm’s about to turn.

But it’s,

too late – don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Too late – don’t say I didn’t say.

Too late – to make things better.

Too late – to save the day.

Divide et impera – guerilla warfare decimates the foe.

Distract you from their actions and maintain their status quo.

Like a master magician you can’t help diverting your eyes.

Wrapped up in a thin-veneer the promised dream covered their lies.



A wedge of black swans landing simultaneously in the West.

Streets and cities razed as the innocent protest.

The clever and the crooked have long left the battle zones.

And the rest fighting it out, like hungry dogs over a bone.



©2.12.2014 Andrew Robert Chapman

Cluster Fuck

Loosely based on Billy Talent – Surprise Surprise

They got you hypnotised,

got you in a deep sleep.

They got you comatised,

got you under real deep.

They got you so far down,

you may never wake up.

Try to open your eyes,

to the cluster fuck.

You can’t see the bonds, you can’t feel the chains.

But you know you’re not free, so you must be enslaved.

It’s a cluster fuck – ‘cos they sold you the lies.

It’s a cluster fuck – when you open your eyes.

It’s a cluster fuck – ain’t nothin’ you can do.

It’s a cluster fuck – yeah, ain’t that the truth?

It’s a cluster fuck – a cluster fuck.

Got you followin’ rules,

that they change every day.

Say you’re living your life,

doing things their way.

Think of those wasted years,

you’ve been down on your luck.

And there’s no way out,

it’s just a cluster fuck.



Keep you calm on the outside,

but you’re ragin’ within.

They got your name and number,

own your tattooed skin.

You don’t scream and shout,

you daren’t break their laws.

A millennium rebel,

blind to a lost cause.



©29.10.2014 Andrew Robert Chapman

Down The Rabbit Hole

Down the rabbit hole.

Down the rabbit hole.

Down the rabbit hole.

Down the rabbit hole.

Welcome to the myth, deep dark labyrinths.

Open your eyes wide to lies hidden in plain sight.

From men on the moon to Guidestones of doom.

Once you’re here you’re trapped there ain’t no goin’ back.

Follow the rabbit. The white rabbit.

Down the rabbit hole. Down the rabbit hole.


Propaganda news, parrots partisan views.

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