Junior Bill

by Junior Bill

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1.
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04:34
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credits

released November 15, 2018

Rob Nichols - vocals, guitar
Joel Beswick - keyboards
Rory Saunders - bass
Jim Strickland - drums

Recorded and produced by Andrew Sanders at King's Road Studios
Mastered by Matthew Evans

Percussion - Jon Cole
Trumpet - Laurence Collier

Backing vocals - Luke Owen, Maddie Jones, Mike Johnson, Sally Thomas, Francesca Dimech, Tumi Williams, Peanut Williams, Hjordis Moon Bradford, Dan Lambert

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Junior Bill Cardiff, UK

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Track Name: There's A Wolf In Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
Ey yo, wallahi, swear down
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
Oooooooowwwwwww, swear down!

I swear down
It’s got claws
It scared the boys when they were selling their draws
It’s on the prowl with fried chicken in its jaws
It’s climbing up the block to the 13th floor

Don’t lie to me
Say wallahi
Told my sisters and they seen it too
They said it shoulda been locked up in Bristol Zoo

Cos there’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown
Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, swear down

On Clare Road
I seen its tail
Flash around the corner and my face went pale
It’s scaring the cyclists on the Taff trail
And as it went past the mosque everybody bailed

Don’t lie to me
Say wallahi
Saw it howling on the roof
The CCTV got conclusive proof

Of a wolf in Grangetown
There’s a wolf in Grangetown

In the light of day
It was a dog that went astray
With no collar around its neck
But I was too scared to have a check
Track Name: Romas
She sits in purple jogging bottoms
The other kids, didn’t want em
She’s got blim burns, jet black curls
It’s safe to say she’s one of the girls

The girls and boys of the poet’s corner
New-Plasnewyddian fauna
Keep each other near, hold their families dear
Life is tough when you’re not from round by yur

But why do we play in different parks?
Why do the police focus on certain streets?
It’s in the smashed out windows and tougher concrete
We only swing to certain beats
It’s a patch of ground, we don’t hang around
And those who reside got pushed to the side
It’s for the Czechs
This one’s for the Romas and the Czechs
They don’t no respect
This one’s for the Romas and the Czechs
Now everybody’s calling for their heads
They don’t like your Burberry threads

“Someone went through my bins again
They want what I’ve got so we can’t be friends
Tearing up City Road in your Mercedez Benz
They must be living a life here at my expense
What pretence.
Let’s keep them the other side of the fence!”
Track Name: The Butetown RATS
There's a bomb in the docks from World War II
And no one knew what to do
There's a bomb in the docks from World War II
And no one knew what to do
Councillors, old sailors too
None of them had half a clue
So keep this between me and you
There's a bomb in the docks from World War II

One cold night in '43
Under rubble and debris
An unexploded bomb was found
Near the Curran's factory
The council wanted it thrown away
Locals wanted it on display
Docks, Bute, Tiger Bay
None of them would have their say

We rats had nowhere to hide
Where to hide? Where to hide?
Waiting for the Butetown blitz to subside
To subside, to subside
With swallowed pride

'Cause no one knew quite what to do
With the bomb in the docks from World War II

Deep beneath the city streets
For centuries we've lived in peace
But we're taking the bomb for ourselves
For the good of the community
We are the last blast of the old filth
From before the bay was built
We now claim what's rightly ours
And tonight blood will be spilled

We are the keepers of this city, this city, this city
We're gonna blow up the Mermaid Quay, the Mermaid Quay, the Mermaid Quay
Track Name: Old Cardiff Winds
Sob stories unfold
The end of Connaught Road
You hear the smashing of windows
In the still of the night
The men of Plasnewydd
With cars and guns to play with
Under a shady terrace
Go on undisturbed

Gonna need a bigger rug
To hide all you featherweight thugs
Peoples proud and picaresque
Make way for the picturesque
Gonna need more paper
To cover the crannies and cracks
Hide the destitute and dispossessed
Lay the old world down to rest

But oh, don't you wish you'd been there?
There brushing steam from your hair
There with the gulls bickering
On old Cardiff winds

Pen-Y-Lan slumbers
City Road rumbles
Lonely sex workers stumble
And dealers cavort
The African barbers
Home to a snake charmer
Oh, I think they'd probably harm us
If you crossed their path

Glory be to shopping centres
God give us Marks & Spencers
Breathe life back into the streets
With capitalist ventures
There came a razing tide
Pushed the people to the side
Washed away the riff raff
Forever up the river Taff

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