Weird Scenes, EP 2011

The web site for Ant, The GameCat, Smith
Official Bridgeman Studio Artist

Album Artwork


The first EP from The GameCat recorded at live venues and studios around London through 2010 and 2011.

If you're reading this you almost certainly already have a copy of The GameCat's first EP, Weird Scenes - so thanks for that. If not, drop me a line and get one! Or I suppose you can download a ZIP file of the tracks and art work (see above), or just down load the MP3s of your favourite tracks (on the left).

The GameCat's material is undoubtedly first about fun, I hate proselytisers, politicisers, pariahs and pricks - there's a lot of them about. So yeah, this stuff is first and foremost about not taking ourselves too seriously. But there's a serious edge too. So here, on this secret page you can see all the lyrics of the poems that appear on, or have inspired, the tracks on the CD. I hope you enjoy them.

Since you've made it here, why not drop me a line, send me a text, or sign my guestbook. Let me know you've been here and you have the CD, and what you think of it. It will cheer me up immensely to hear from you. Checkout the toolbar at the top of any page on the site to contact me.

Thanks for getting the EP (or downloading it) and dropping by. Do take a moment to read the thanks on the cover as well - it would have been impossible to get anything out there with out the support of so many good friends. Thank you one and all - even those of you whom I know will hate it...

With that unquietening love that only a bearded man of 45 can impres upon one...

The GameCat Logo

2011
x

States of matter-imony
Recorded at the St. Mungos Studios in London

I keep vacuum bags Iíve filled
With the dust that fell from you
Wet my finger tip and dip
Sherbet fountain, tasty bits

I store the tears that were spilled
When I disappointed you
I like to bathe when theyíre distilled
Salty crystals are my pills

Gas or liquid or solid, you are
Lovable in a bag, or in a jar
Anyone can love, tits or arse
Lips or looks or
Thoughts or fucks

I bottle odours you release
In the night time, in your sleep
Nothing smells to me so sweet
As you do under sheets

Gas or liquid or solid, you are
Lovable in a bag, or in a jar
Anyone can love
Flesh and such
I love you
To your guts

Mortician
Recorded live at The Queen's Speech

You know it ain't a good day
When you start it digging graves

Dear mortician
I need a remind-ah
Do me a favour
And gently scalp her
It's okay
it need not show
You can take it
From down below

I said I would love her
For ever and a day
I meant I would love her
From beyond the grave
Please please help me
Misbehave
I want to fuck her
Before she decays

Dear gynaecologist
I need me a hole
Some where suitable
To stick my pole
Rigour Mortis
Has me caughts out cold
She has clamped up
Like a limpet on a hull

Dear taxidermist
I need a loving look
The kind that always
Made me want to fuck
Take your glassy eyes
And fashion some suprise
I want to see her
Cold dead eyes

I said I would love her
For ever and a day
I meant I would love her
From beyond the grave
Please please help me
Misbehave
I want to fuck her
Before she decays

I want to fuck her
Before she decays
I want to fuck her
Before she decays
I want to fuck her
Before she decays
I want to fuck her
Till the end of days

Punk Rock
Recorded live at the Poetical Cabaret

From
Jonny Rotten to Iggy Pop
I can't believe it's not punk rock
And next the slits will sell tampons
Give your a two for one wide on

The
Clash weren't taking the bastard piss
When they hinted towards this
Turning rebellion to franchise
London's calling so BT cries

I can't believe it's not punk rock
I can't believe it's not punk rock
I can't believe it's not punk rock
Nice
pension plan you fuck

Ever
Fallen in love with red mountain?
Do New York bagels give you kicks?
Did breakfast ever seem such bliss
As you consume to punk rock riffs?

Will
Sweet Suzy Sioux be selling shoes?
Will The Dammed be wooing you?
When a charity needs some grease
Will Ian Dury's bones be fleeced?

I can't believe it's not punk rock
I can't believe it's not punk rock
I can't believe it's not punk rock
Greasing wheels with your CUNTry life
You cu-uunts

Definition
Re-visioned by Mr. Michael Baines

You're the very definition of the taking of the piss
If you were with a prostitute, you'd charge her by the inch
If you were in a porno flick, there wouldn't be no sound
If you were doing anal, you wouldn't reach around

You're the very definition of the shock and the awe
If you were in a fight you'd kick 'em in the balls
If you were in a schoolyard, you'd sell 'em hardcore dope
N if you were in a funeral home you'd make a fucking joke

You're the very definition of original sin
When you lend a tenner you rake a hundred in
When you visit granny you steal her fucking teeth
Then demand a blowjob and give her HIV

You're the very definition of ABC1
You're the very definition of being a cunt
You're the very definition of Britain's Got Talent
You're the very definition of
Simon fucking bastard cunting bastard fucking Cowell.

Plaything
Re-visioned by Ms. Teri Mishun

Iím happy to be your plaything
I am your sex toy
It doesnít demean me
Well it does, but I donít mind

I love those Psycho moments
When Iím in the shower
Things get slippery underfoot
At your soapy touch

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

You raise me every morning
In your special way
Sometimes I find Iím bound and gagged
And I canít get away
I admire your expertise
With that thing you hold
If you were a pole dancer
Iíd be your pole

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

I love your naked skipping
You jiggle like a whore
You leave me here sweating
And panting out for more
Panting, panting, panting, panting,
Panting out for more

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy

I love your dirty looks
And push-up bra
Thereís more to you than
Meets the eye
Of those men you taunt
Thereís a piece of me you enrage
When I see you flaunt
They may pump your tyres up
But I will ride you home.

Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your toy
Happy to be your plaything
Happy to be your boy

Strange Girl
Re-visioned by Joe Inman with Joe on Guitar

You are
A bi-o-logical mistake
You are
a blot upon the
Landscape
The world can
well do-oo-oo
Without the
Likes of you

Ní time waits
For no-one
Ní no-one
Waits for you
Ní you think
That that is strange
But I know
Know itís true
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-girl
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-girl
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-

You are / A little de-ranged
I see it / In the games that you play
Itís almost / As if theirís no bra-in
To guide your / Your sense of shame

I Would / Like to purchase
A Genetic / Puncture kit
Just to / To try Ďní fix
Fix up / How you tick, tick, Tick, tick, tick

Ní time waits
For no-one
Ní no-one
Waits for you
Ní you think
That that is strange
But I know
Know itís true
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-girl
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-girl
S.T.R.-A.N.G.-E, Strange-

You are strange / Oh so strange
A little de-ranged-girl
You are strange, strange, strange
Oh so strange

I Will
Recorded with the Stag Night Singers by Dennis Gajetic at the Gadget Studios London

I will do things for, to, you
if you want me to, take you by the hand
I will, I will, I will, I will,
I will do things for, to, you
I will do the best I can, by you
if you want me to, visit virgin land
I will do things for, to, you
if youíd want me to
I do