my first baby steps at a kind of ‘protest song’ - which I’ve dedicated to my wee brother James T.

Combination of subject matter, and electronicky ‘bothy ballad’ style verses with my rough sung/spoke delivery in N.East scottish vernacular means that its not exactly easy listening but ‘hopefully-provoking’ (;-) course if yer fay aberdeen - ye’ll hae nay probies (;-0

chopped beats, synths, music, words & vocals - paul T

verses

kids home at eight, prison at eighteen, AIDS at twentythree

wrapping presents for his boy, he died on christmas eve

doon it i station, pink police faces, didnae ken fit to say

couldn’ae lift yer coffin- though, six pounds wiz a’ ye weighed

schemie, beastie, junkie, is a’ they had tae say

another loon like jesus- hangin, on the walls of our estate

chorus

hey……. Jamesie, hey, hey (repeat)