Back Off

from by Teknopeasant

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about

A banjo-fueled account of a lost weekend in the legendary Inishowen peninsula. First featured live in session on the amazing Electric Mainline show on BBC Radio Foyle

lyrics

Back off

Back in the back of the van
Like a pack man, Heading back man
Telling other people all a the craic man
Eating dots and plots, having it have nots
Revving it reverend like it’ll never end
Don’t beg to differ if you spin at a whiff of her
Lift up her christopher streaming the locks and rocks
Like a pilgrim father asking is it much further
Mother of thousands crying out murderer
Shining the medal the treadle the tread mill
Linen and thread mills bouncing to Jeff Mills
This is the line of the party so follow her
Parity followers feeling much hollower
Esteem engines are working on overtime
Railing at white lines overtaking wunderkinds
Slighting the sins of the grandfathers’ lean kine

It’s the dreamtime the connection
Parallel citadel silver confection
Marble halls mirror balls walk it like pastry
She faced you disgraced you she’s going to outpace you
Are you going to sleep with the sheep in the cold leas
Green shields mean fields average measure
Hedging your bets for maximum pleasure?
Keep your sights high son, focus on the main prize
Wait for the heat and the dawn wind of sunrise

Packs of players, delayers, soothsayers
Opposite numbers, fumblers, tumblers
Empty gutted stomach rumblers
Pitchers, bewitchers, dank damp ditch-deliverers
Looking for corkscrews, fresh news, papers and fire
Touch the blue before you retire

Missing the mainstream caught in an up dream
Glorying relics of afternap noon team
Playing the part, getting a start
Breaking a heart for measure not pleasure
The eggs are needed love lies bleeded
Easily led like a pencil to water
Grammatical fanatical wolf and daughter
Says its bled I stand corrected
Getting collected here comes the hackney
Whack me back me
Into a corner I can’t report on you
Leave them standing,
Those girls a whole handling
Howling like hallions
I need you tonight
But we’re mock rock stars, Heavy
Rolling, Crystal - away home!
Dream of mansions
Dead-end expansions
She’s a bottle-blond spray tan beguiler
An apprentice Nail-Filer
She loves Bonnie Tyler
Was that a one-chance life time visit?
Was that the taxi fuck did I miss it?

Buncrana!!!!! I’ve had ya!!

Player piano is tenderly crackling
I’m hackling, going to get back wi them
Only a short walk to the long pier
Did ye not hear? Left holding a French girl
With a head skirl, she’s mardy
if you don’t believe me check out Thomas Hardy
Nobody’s entering shoes in the middle
with keys and phone save me the trouble
Curling up next to three black cases
Blank faces undercover like an elephant
But that’s irrelevant
A Tiny detective sniffs out perspective
Blames the bliss of one off-ness
For the kiss-off tear and snot fest
Miss the mess wi the mistress
Blanking the sack wi relationship hater
I’ll tell ye all the craic - later
I’ve had all that any man can stand

Buncrana - I’ve had ya!
48 hours march into mayhem
Rattling like a tin can, off the drink man
Back in black in the back of me red van.

credits

from The Raw Deal, track released March 4, 2011

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about

Teknopeasant Donegal, Ireland

Teknopeasant aka Conor O'Kane is a Banjo-shredding blues-punk mountain-man preacher for the post-apocalyptic generation. His no-holds-barred assaults on consumer society, greedy agricultural practises and pointless political labyrinths work through the innterplay of musicality, humour and rage. His gentler side comes across in his beautiful folk songs and country-blues tinged tales of caravan life ... more

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