Big Night Out In Rockingham (Tomás Ford Goes Shoplifting In Trax Version)

from by Tomás Ford

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about

Though I did a version of this for my Nobody Wants To Be You album, people kept asking about the mash-up version and I needed some kind of release-style closure for it. So I here it is.

If your intellectual property is in here and it pisses you off, please let me know and I'll take it down.

lyrics

We sit in my lounge room.

9PM. Friday night. Bored as fuck.

There’s nothing going on.

“Where we gonna go?” “Out.”

We stand up, head to the cars.

The merits of each club are debated.

This one’s sleazy This one’s rap

This one’s tacky And that’s just crap

I think seriously on the possibility of dancing at 2AM to bootylicious, undulating, dry rooting R&B...

I stop thinking.

The general consensus is that “tacky” is the best of our four options.

Plus we know the promotions guy there, so we might be able to scab ourselves some free drinks.

We crank up the car stereo and wank our way there.

On arrival at the club we are greeted by a smiling bouncer who remembers us.

Oh shit.

We’re regulars.

I’ve never been so embarrassed.

I look around.

While I’m here, I may as well get me some sex...

Having spent the entire night in the pursuit of sexual gratification, it is somewhat disappointing to find my only offer is from a woman named Angie, who is aged at a youthful 42.

“Fuck that for a joke.”

I wish I wouldn’t take myself so literally.

Nobody ever laughs anyway.

Half way home I call Angie a taxi on my mobile and dump her at the shopping centre.

The very thought of what could have occurred sends chills up my spine.

As I drive away, she screams horrible insults at me and I think of immature comebacks I’ll never use.

I get home and wander what happened to my friends.

Probably fucking.

Fuckwits.

I open the door and switch on the light.

It doesn’t come on, and the others behave in pretty much the same way.

It’s almost as if a thief has come into the house and taken only the light bulbs.

My body, without consulting me, decides that seeing as though I’m tired,

I

may

as

well

sleep

on

the

floor.

I arrive there with a THUD.


I wake up at dawn with the sun shining through the flyscreen and right into my eyes.

There’s a puddle of saliva sticking my face to the floorboards.

I stand up and head for bed.

credits

from Tomás Ford's Idea Of Fun, released September 13, 2007
Written and recorded by Tomás Ford, except the obvious samples etc. which remain the property of their myriad original owners.

license

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