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Born to be a Thief

Born to be a Thief

Genres
Bluegrass, Americana, Folk, Country Rock

Keywords / Mood
Moody, Driving, Intense, Powerful, Epic.
Themes of rogue lifestyle, world-weariness, other-worldliness

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Banjo, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley.
Electric Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith
ISRC - UKWC92300043
ISWC - T-319.648.189-3
Tunecode - 576660BW

Lyrics 
 

Sometimes I believe

I was born to be a thief

Born to look for more

Than I can see

 

I’m all out of love

I’m all out of hate, 

When they put me in the ground

The devil’s out of work

 

 

Vs1

Doesn’t matter how you roll the dice

It’s still the same old luck every night

There’s echoes of my life at every stop on the line

 

 

CHORUS

 

 

 

Vs2

I wound up no place special on the map

Wearing devil skin boots and a half-inched trucker cap

I ain’t got a Gambling problem just a horse that never wins

 

 

Chords:

 

Intro - Em

 

Ch “Sometimes I believe”

Em / Bm / D / Em (double stab) x 2

 

Vs “Doesn’t matter how you roll the dice”

Em / G / D / Em

“There’s echoes”

G / A / F#m / Em

Holy Ground

Holy Ground

Genres
Rock, Hard Rock, Blues Rock

Keywords / Mood
Intense, Dark, Epic.
Themes of standing tall, strength

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Pedal Steel Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux.
Vocals and Guitar - David Roux
Pedal Steel Guitar, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith
ISRC - UKWC92300039
ISWC - T-319.648.201-2
Tunecode - 576660EM

Lyrics 
 

I stop seeing double if I close just one eye

Thinking’s bad, feelings are worse and I ain’t got time to cry

I am my own god, I am my own devil

Got a foot in both camps, a drink in my hand it keeps me on the level

 

It don’t matter how you play the game it’s still the same old chance

It’s cold standing in my shadow, I don’t hear your song and dance.

I write my luck, I’ve dealt my hand

I’m not the type to run and hide

You’re standing on holy ground

 

 

I cast a real long shadow, hold a grudge til the end of time

Don’t ask me for forgiveness if you know you crossed my line

You’re acting like you’re Jesus but you don’t look like my son

I’m god around here so sling your hook, don’t walk you’d better run

 

It don’t matter how you play the game it’s still the same old chance

It’s cold standing in my shadow, I don’t hear your song and dance.

I write my luck, I’ve dealt my hand

I’m not the type to run and hide

You’re standing on holy ground

Bag of Bones

Bag of Bones

Genres
Rock, Americana, Rhythm and Blues, Classic Rock

Keywords / Mood
Driving, Emotive, Hopeful, Positive, Upbeat, Optimistic.
Themes of being imperfect but giving your all

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Clean Lyrics, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written By David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Bass Guitar - David Roux
Drums - Ryan Smith

ISRC - UKWC92300042
ISWC - T-320.738.701-3
Tunecode - 580341DP

Lyrics 
 

I ain’t homeless

I’m just rough around the edges

Guess it looks like I’m coming apart at the seams

It’s taken 20 years to break in these old blue jeans

 

I’ve got my best friend on the end of this lead

And we can both see you’re the one in need

 

You can take this bag of bones

Take this bag of bones

Well if you need them you can take them home

 

Maybe i’m long in the tooth

But I ain’t 20 years old and bullet proof

I ain’t as fast as I once was

I ain’t got much to my name

Except some aches and pains

 

I’ve got my best friend on the end of this lead

And we can both see you’re the one in need

 

Won’t you take this bag of bones

Take this bag of bones

Well if you need them you can take them home

Chicken Fried Snake

Chicken Fried Snake

Genres
Rock, Bluegrass, Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Uptempo, Driving, Thumping.
Themes of otherworldliness, a strange place

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums,  Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke, Acoustic Version

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Bass Guitar - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith

ISRC - UKWC92000001
ISWC - T-931.718.938-1
Tunecode - 394639BU

Lyrics 
 

I double parked the mothership at the drive-in diner motel

Chicken and Blues called to me and the small town clientele

‘Crystal’ said the name badge ‘I guess it’s a table for one?’

Tonight I’m flying solo, I’m a greedy son of a gun

 

Coffee or Moonshine, Whatever it takes

If you’re sittin’ in tonight

It’s chicken-fried snake

 

Chicken fried snake

 

It ain’t champagne on a Tuesday 

Or Friday’s fish and chips

It’s reptile without cutlery

Serpent and Garlic Dips

 

I’m a rhinestone cowboy

In a nudie suit

I just ordered myself some deep-fried python boots

 

Ask about the menu, is that a mistake?

Ain’t you got nothin’ but

Chicken Fried Snake?

 

I got a one-track mind and I’m gonna go to town

Gonna chew this cobra and wash it down

Well Here comes dinner through the glory hole

With A fistful of fries and coiled rissole 

 

I’m a rhinestone cowboy, with venom on the side

Want it done poultry style the way the colonel fried

 

Ask about the menu, is that a mistake?

Ain’t you got nothing but 

Chicken Fried Snake

 

Chicken Fried Snake

Chicken Fried Snake

Chicken Fried Snake

Done my Time

Done My Time

Genres
Roots, Blues, Rock, Gospel

Keywords / Mood
Rhythmic, Chain Gang, Bluesy.
Themes of exhaustion, working hard

 

Instrumentation 
Acoustic Guitar, Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Hammond Organ, Male Vocal, Female Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Vocals, Bass Guitar - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith
Vocals - Trish Burke-Manser
Organ - David Evans

ISRC - UKWC92100020
ISWC - T-305.549.519-3 T-305.549.475-8
Tunecode - 467692ET

Lyrics 
 

I’ll be older than God by the time I’m done

Tell the man I’ve done my time

 

Been a long time since I seen the sun

Tell the man I’ve done my time

 

Eyes down yonder, down the steel line

Tell the man I’ve done my time

 

One more rivet, claim my nickel and dime

Tell the man I’ve done my time

 

 

It’s 6:05 I’m running Dry

Give it 12 hours I’ll be back on this line

 

Breaking sweat, breaking rocks

Call Your Devil off, I’ve done my time

 

6 more hours till my work stops

Call Your Devil off, I’ve done my time

 

Wanna ride the train not lay the track

Call Your Devil off, I’ve done my time

 

They tell me this is life but it aint all that

Call Your Devil off, I’ve done my time

 

It’s 6:05 I’m running Dry

Give it 12 hours I’ll be back on this line

It’s 6:05 I’m running Dry

Give it 12 hours I’ll be back on this line

 

I’ve hammered white hot rivets with these fists for mile upon mile

I’ve got a thirst like an Arizona desert with cactus growing down my throat

And I’ve done my time, you call your devil off, cause I’ve paid my way

And when that whistle blows I’ll be first in line

I said I’ll be first in line

 

I’m running Dry

Give it 12 hours I’ll be back on this line

It’s 6:05 I’m running Dry

Give it 12 hours I’ll be back on this line

Red Rag

Red Rag

Genres
Rock, Blues Rock, Funk Rock

Keywords / Mood
Uptempo, Grooving
Themes of being bewildered, lyrical metaphor around colour

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Pedal Steel, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley.
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Pedal Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith

ISRC - UKWC92100018
ISWC - T-321.598.182-7
Tunecode - 589018AW

Lyrics 
 

I’m just a I’m a kid for being green

I’m just a I’m a fool for feeling blue

You make me scared you call me yellow

You’re just a red rag to a bull

 

I learned to swim 

When I fell into the river

I had my first smoke

When I caught myself on fire

 

        

I learned how to drive 

When daddy died at the wheel

Thank God I learned 

How to sing to earn my dinner  

 

I’m just a I’m a kid for being green

I’m just a I’m a fool for feeling blue

You make me scared you call me yellow

You’re just a red rag to a bull

 

I learned how to fist fight

When Momma she dressed me 

dressed me up in her heels

 

Well, I learned how to balance

And that attracts ladies

‘Cause I’ve got that appeal

 

You said your name was Scarlet

You left me black and blue

You stole all my colours

And my deep purple CD Too

 

I’m just a I’m a kid for being green

I’m just a I’m a fool for feeling blue

You make me scared you call me yellow

You’re just a red rag to a bull

 

I felt that I was right on your trail

You see I’m fluent in barroom braille

Well you turned and you gave me a wink

And I saddled up alongside you

You said “For starters, just buy me a drink”

 

 

I’m just a I’m a kid for being green

I’m just a I’m a fool for feeling blue

You make me scared you call me yellow

You’re just a red rag to a bull

Rollin' Stone

Rollin' Stone

Genres
Rock, Americana, Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Driving, Retro
Themes of chasing a figure, communing with the dead

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Electric Piano, Organ, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Keys - David Evans
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92100017
ISWC - T-305.549.747-3
Tunecode - 467692EN

Lyrics 
 

Every time I call you up on the phone

You never pick up cause you ain’t home

You got me tied up, stitched up and sewn

I always knew you was a rolling stone

 

These walls are paper thin

There’s tattoos on her skin

Drinking bathtub Gin

And I hear everything

 

There’s a band next-door, 

Working on a tune

Did I hear your voice

Are you in their room?

 

 

Every time I call you up on the phone

You never pick up cause you ain’t home

You got me tied up, stitched up and sewn

I always knew you were a rolling stone

 

 

 

I drain my glass and turn it upside down

I call your name, are you around?

I Watch It slide across the floor

Are you in this room or just folklore?

 

I hide my lyrics in the cracks in the stones

I hope you read them now you’re safe at home

You got me tied up, stitched up and sewn

I always knew you were a rolling stone

 

 

Give me a sign

Come on and tell me that you’re here tonight I know you can hear

 

You’re rolling

 

 

Every time I call you up on the phone

You never pick up cause you ain’t home

You got me tied up, stitched up and sewn

I always knew you were a rolling stone

 

I hide my lyrics in the cracks in the stones

I hope you read them now you’re safe at home

You got me tied up, stitched up and sewn

I always knew you were a rolling stone

Enough About Me

Enough About Me

Genres
Bluegrass, Americana, Country, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Fast-paced, optimistic, witty.
Themes of unbridled confidence, ego, 
humorous
 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Organ, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal, Female Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Keys - David Evans
Vocals - Trish Burke-Manser
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92100021
ISWC - T-305.549.465-6
Tunecode - 467692EV

Lyrics 
 

No one gave me this black eye I had to earn it

I was throwing shots above my weight

You’re my Goliath, you can call me Dave

They say fortune, it favours the brave

 

She said Fuck you, and the horse you rode up in here on

I always stand my ground, I never run

Let’s get outta here, c’mon let’s split

Use my custom saddle, it’s got my face on it

 

 

That’s enough about me, let’s talk about you, what do you think about me, I’m the best you can do

That’s enough about you, let’s talk about me, I’m a 12 on a 10 scale I should be on TV

 

There were five of them and one of me

If you’re taking bets just wait and see

Watch me strut my moves on the old dancefloor

No one grooves like me, I’m a drunk outlaw

 

 

That’s enough about me, let’s talk about you, what do you think about me, I’m the best you can do

That’s enough about you, let’s talk about me, I’m a 12 on a 10 scale I should be on TV

 

Bridge

Oh look around you, the sun is coming up

You’re running out of options, I’m gonna try my luck

I don’t know what hurts the most the slap around the face or the hangover I’m working on I’m a Friday night disgrace

 

 

That’s enough about me, let’s talk about you, what do you think about me, I’m the best you can do

That’s enough about you, let’s talk about me, I’m a 12 on a 10 scale I should be on TV

Back in the Game

Back in the Game

Genres
Rock, Americana, Hard Rock

Keywords / Mood
Driving, Intense, Expansive
Themes of heavy drinking, partying hard

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92100015
ISWC - T-305.549.489-4
Tunecode - 467692CW

Lyrics 
 

There’s a lot you can learn on the Old Oxford Road

We went Budweiser rafting and the beer it flowed

Sitting beside her was an old blind tiger

‘Can I get you a drink?’ She said of last summer’s cider

Let me know, oh let me know

 

Now we’re back in the game

Line up the pieces

White Russian Knights 

Whiskey Pawns for chasers

Now we’re back

 

The old blind tiger, he gave me a wink

‘Won’t you come down and join me for an illegal drink?’

It’s 9:55, it’s getting late

Let’s get one more round in, these are going down great

 

Now we’re back in the game

Line up the pieces

White Russian Knights 

Whiskey Pawns for chasers

 

Back in the game

Line up the pieces

White Russian Knights 

Whiskey Pawns for chasers

Now we’re back

 

Now we’re back in the game

Line up the pieces

White Russian Knights 

Whiskey Pawns for chasers

 

Back in the game

Line up the pieces

White Russian Knights 

Whiskey Pawns for chasers

Now we’re back

 

 

Now the old blind tiger hooks his paw through my arm

Says ‘What’s your name, my drinking buddy? Now we’re back in the game’

Got it Made

Got It Made

Genres
Country, Country Rock, Americana

Keywords / Mood
Sweet, Romantic, Retro, Witty.
Themes of chasing a figure, communing with the dead

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Organ, Pedal Steel Guitar, Lap Steel, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Pedal Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Keys - David Evans
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92100016
ISWC - T-302.682.513-4
Tunecode - 446701GP

Lyrics 
 

Gonna make us some shoes, gonna walk real far

Gonna build us a boat and I’ll play this guitar that I made you

Whilst wearing our  shoes

 

Gonna make us some suits to go with our shoes

Gonna cut my own hair and drink my home brew, 

won’t you join me for a bottle or two?

 

 

‘Cause I’m Jack, Jack of all trades, master of none

And I made you love me and that’s a home run

 

Drifting on downstream our toes in the water

All the things that I made her, I could have brought that just ain’t me

That ain’t my style

 

So let’s make a big noise, let’s make the news, 

Let’s start a new craze with home made tattoos

Drinking home brew, whilst wearing our shoes

 

 

‘Cause I’m Jack, Jack of all trades, master of none

And I made you love me and that’s a home run

 

 

Now our shoes have got holes

This guitar’s out of tune

Our homemade tattoos are faded and blue

 

‘Cause I’m Jack, Jack of all trades, master of none

‘Cause I’m Jack, Jack of all trades, master of none

‘Cause I’m Jack, Jack of all trades, master of none

And I made you love me and that’s a home run

Sea Legs

Sea Legs

Genres
Americana, Alt-Country, Country, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Laid back, reminiscient, powerful, emotive, reflective
Themes of valuing friends, friendship

 

Instrumentation 
Weissenborn Lap Steel, Guitar, Piano, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal, Female Vocal, Fiddle

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Weissenborn, Bass Guitar - Pete Briley
Keys - David Evans
Drums - Ryan Smith
Vocals - Trish Burke-Manser
Fiddle - Rachel Crick


ISRC - UKWC92100024
ISWC - T-305.549.502-4
Tunecode - 467692FQ

Lyrics 
 

Last night we took a turn down memory lane

I can’t remember a single damn thing

 

I’m sure you’ll remind me, I’ll be asking

You’ll tell me we all ached from laughing

 

 

I’ve got my sea legs

I’m used to spinning yarn in spinning rooms with all of you

I’ve got my  my sea legs I’m used to 

Spinning yarns with all of you my friends

 

 

We lined the track, and we rode the train

Now I don’t know where we’re headed, we’ll be back again

 

Another year older, another year wise

And I’m happy with these laughter lines round my eyes

 

 

I’ve got my sea legs

I’m used to spinning yarn in spinning rooms with all of you

I’ve got my  my sea legs I’m used to 

Spinning yarns with all of you my friends

 

 

Another year older, another year wise

And I’m happy with these laughter lines round my eyes

 

I’ve got my sea legs

I’m used to spinning yarn in spinning rooms with all of you

I’ve got my  my sea legs I’m used to 

Spinning yarns in Spinning Rooms

I’ve got my  my sea legs I’m used to 

Spinning yarns with all of you my friends 

There's No Easy Way to Say This

There's No Easy Way to Say This

Genres
Rock, Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Retro, Witty, Foot stomping
Themes of wrestling with confronting a difficult topic through a witty lens

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Lap Steel, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Lap Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92100022
ISWC - T-305.549.502-4
Tunecode - 467692FQ

Lyrics 
 

Theres no easy way to say this

Guess I'll say it to your face

Theres no easy way to phrase this

Got my bags packed just in case

 

Theres no easy way to break it

Guess its time that I admit

I'll write a note and mail it

She might buy that for a bit

 

 

I'll pretend that nothing’s happened

I was home here all along

The dog he’s got me covered

I was here and wrote this song

 

 

There’s no easy way to say this

Well I really must confess

Think it’s getting kinda complex

And I shouldn’t make you guess

 

I’ve worn the carpet out

And I’m staring at the phone, 

The dog thinks he’s in trouble 

He won’t even touch his bone

 

 

Theres no easy way to say this

Guess I'll say it to your face

Theres no easy way to phrase this

Got my bags packed just in case

 

Have Mercy

 

We’ve been here before

We’ll be here again

You know me too well it’ll happen again

 

There’s no easy way to this

There’s no easy way to this

There’s no easy way to this

There’s no easy way to this 

It’ll Happen Again

Blame the horse

Blame the Horse

Genres
Americana, Rock, Spaghetti Western

Keywords / Mood
Moody, Epic, Intense, Ethereal, Spaghetti Western
Themes of being cursed with bad luck, losing at gambling

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Lap Steel, Organ, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal, Female Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Lap Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Keys - David Evans
Drums - Ryan Smith
Vocals - Trish Burke-Manser


ISRC - UKWC92100023
ISWC - T-305.549.519-3
Tunecode - 491885KR

Lyrics 
 

I lost it all on ‘Tennessee Hero’

Dressed to the nines a proper de Niro 

All I’ve got is a hole in my shoe

 

a Bad bet from the outset, I’m looking for outlet

Trying to cash a bad check, trying to hide a shamrock tattoo

 

 

I’ll blame it on the horse

Never blame it on the truth

I’ll blame it on these worn out home made shoes

 

I’ll blame it on the suit

I’ll blame it on the blues

I’ll use any, any old excuse

 

 

Nothing ventured nothing feared

I’m dusty, I’m billy, I’ll be frank

I’ve grown a beard

 

That night it all went wrong

My fortunes were all gone

You left me by the tracks

Scratching out this song

 

Guess work is for the folk

Who can’t pick out a winner

Thank God I learned to sing for my dinner

 

 

I’ll blame it on the horse

Never blame it on the truth

I’ll blame it on these worn out home made shoes

 

I’ll blame it on the suit

I’ll blame it on the blues

I’ll use any, any old excuse

 

 

 

I’ll blame it on the horse

Never blame it on the truth

I’ll blame it on these worn out home made shoes

 

I’ll blame it on the suit

I’ll blame it on the blues

I’ll use any, any old excuse

End of the Line

End of the Line

Genres
Americana, Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Relaxed, Reflective, Optimistic
Themes of reflection, introspection, not being done yet

Instrumentation 
Acoustic Guitar, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Vocals - David Roux
Guitar - Pete Briley



ISRC - UKWC92100025
ISWC - T-305.549.519-3
Tunecode - 491885KR

Lyrics 
 

what you do in the day time 

Keeps you up in the night time

Sweatin’ out hard times

Beyond the end of the line

 

Missing sunshine and good times

Cheap wine and moonshine

It’s not the end of the line

Oooooh

It’s not the end of the line

Sunday Drivers

Sunday Drivers

Genres
Rock, Americana

Keywords / Mood
Driving, Retro
Themes of chasing a figure, communing with the dead

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Lap Steel, Bass Guitar, Flute, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Lap Steel, Flute, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300041
ISWC - T-325.498.979-8
Tunecode - 630925KM

Lyrics 
 

There’s a time, time and a place

When I should act my age

For twenty years, i’ve been having a phase

 

When we were young we so dumb

We thought we were smart

Staring in the mirror I thought I was a work of art

 

I’m too old to smoke, I’m too young to quite

The only thing the whiskey got up was my hopes

i’ll admit

Bad luck’s better than no luck

Any edge over blind old guessing, better than anything I got right now, I count that as a blessing

 

 

I kept my vow, a rock n roll survivor

I’m still a weekend warrior I’m not 

A Sunday Driver

 

When it’s lights out

I’ve stopped checking under the bed

Because these monsters, they’ve been living in my head

Small Change

Small Change

Genres
Rock, Americana

Keywords / Mood
Angry, Frustrated, Footstomping
Themes of Money, not having enough money.

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums, Vocals - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300040
ISWC - T-325.498.979-8
Tunecode - 630925KM

Lyrics 
 

You’re giving me small change

It’s driving me insane

Every Nickel, every penny, every dollar, every dime

Gonna Hustle, gonna fight, gonna make it mine

 

(Small Change)

 

Been playing these joints for a lifetime

In the flip of a coin gonna make it a gold mine

 

Chasing dreams for copper and brass

Working for green and I don’t mean grass

No idea I got all the kit

 

Stole a Jeff beck lick don’t give a two bob bit

 

It’s driving me insane

Every Nickel, every penny, every dollar, every dime

Gonna Hustle, gonna fight, gonna make it mine

 

(Small Change)

 

 

Make it rain, 

In for a dollar, in for a pound,

In for a pony when I’m 3 bucks down

From lady Godiva to Aryton Senna if you’re talking cash, 

Show me the treasure

 

It’s driving me insane

Every Nickel, every penny, every dollar, every dime

Gonna Hustle, gonna fight, gonna make it mine

 

(Small Change)

 

You’re giving me small change

It’s driving me insane

Every Nickel, every penny, every dollar, every dime

Gonna Hustle, gonna fight, gonna make it mine

SOS

S.O.S.

Genres
Rock, Americana

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Keywords / Mood
Upbeat, Celebratory, Joyful
Themes of being a lifelong rock 'n' roller

 

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300036
ISWC - T-325.498.967-4
Tunecode - 630925HP

Lyrics 
 

I done good things and bad things and everything between 

Church on Sunday gives me six more days to sin

Fill your glasses, I’ve got some holy water

always knew we’d need something, something a little stronger

 

 

I Don’t do it to get high, I do it to get by

‘Cause I’m a giver, and I’m still 

giving them hell

 

 

They can’t save our souls above the noise of our rock'n'roll

With our loud guitars and our cheap cigars

Nobody hears the bell toll

 

 

We can’t all be Beatles when we’re too damn rollin stoned

We’re getting older but there’s rock here still living in these bones

We’re the luckless few whose lives went straight down the sink

I sold my mother’s teeth to buy us all another round of drinks

 

 

You’ve thrown a drowning man both ends of the same old rope

But I still see you, ‘cause I brought my periscope

 

 

They can’t save our souls above the noise of our rock'n'roll

With our loud guitars Nobody hears the toll

They can’t save our souls above the noise of our rock'n'roll

With our our cheap cigars and our loud guitars

Nobody hears the bell toll

 

 

They can’t save our souls above the noise of our rock'n'roll

With our loud guitars and our cheap cigars

Nobody hears the bell toll

We can’t save our souls we’re slaves to rock n roll, with our loud guitars and our cheap cigars

Nobody hears the toll

 

I don’t do it do get high, I do it to get by

I’m a giver and I’m still giving them hell

Rotten Apples

Rotten Apples

Genres
Rock, Americana, Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Driving, Bluesy, Rootsy, Witty, Charming, Cool
Themes of rotten apples, black sheep of the family

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Lap Steel, Cigar Box Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Cigar Box, Vocals - David Roux
Cigar Box, Lap Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300035
ISWC - T-325.498.967-4
Tunecode - 630925HP

Lyrics 
 

You call us rotten apples

‘Cause we landed with a thump

You threw us on the compost heap, 

fermented, we came back drunk

 

Eve gave us the eye

We ain’t no providers

Not sweet enough for apple pie

We ended up in cider

 

We’re rotten apples, rotten to the core

Black sheep of the family too rotten to ignore

We’re rotten apples, rotten to the core

You know you really want us, keep coming back for more

 

You pulled us to the ground

Just like newton said

“watch where you’re going boys, you bumped me on the head”

 

 

Should have never left the orchard, should have stayed up in the tree

Never fallen from the branches but hey, that’s just gravity

 

 

 

We know you got your eye on us, We know you think we’re cute

But here’s the moral of the story, don’t pick low hanging fruit

Outlaw

Outlaw

Genres
Rock

Keywords / Mood
Uptempo, exciting, powerful
Themes of being an outlaw, of being in a gang, being part of a brotherhood

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300045
ISWC - T-325.498.967-4
Tunecode - 630925HP

Lyrics 
 

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

And my bad attitude is a concrete imperfection

Well If you cross me I’ll make you pay a toll

Cross my palm with wine and beer and lots of gold

 

‘Cause I’m an outlaw

I’m an outlaw

You’re one too

 

The road to hell points in all directions

I see you standing there in my reflection

So bring your voodoo shit and all your superstitions

Let’s hit the road it ain’t no apparition

 

‘Cause I’m an outlaw

I’m an outlaw

You’re one too

 

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

And my bad attitude is a concrete imperfection

Well If you cross me I’ll make you pay a toll

Cross my palm with wine and beer and lots of gold

 

‘Cause I’m an outlaw

I’m an outlaw

You’re one too

Graceless Time

Graceless Time

Genres
Americana, Blues, Classic Rock

Keywords / Mood
Retro, Romantic, Bluesy, Cinematic, Emotive.
Themes of sticking together through hard times

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Pedal Steel, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal, Female Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Acoustic Guitar, Pedal Steel, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Guitar - Buzzy James
Drums - Ryan Smith
Vocals - Trish Burke-Maner


ISRC - UKWC92300044
ISWC - T-325.498.983-4
Tunecode - 630925KP

Lyrics 
 

Don’t love me, ‘cause the pain ain’t worth the pleasure

It’s a long road and we’re on this path together

I’m a swinging noose in your tree

I’m a smiling bitter pill

If you won’t leave me, maybe I’ll find someone that will

 

But we’ve laughed, in life’s changing face

We’ve found a timeless grace

But we’ve laughed, in life’s changing face

And this rope it won’t break

 

I’m still the shining noose in your tree

A reminder of what I used to be

Just a one-night fantasy

A tight knot that’s my guarantee

 

But we’ve laughed, in life’s changing face

We’ve found a timeless grace

But we’ve laughed, in life’s changing face

And this rope it won’t break

Fear the Bite

Fear the Bite

Genres
Blues, Roots

Keywords / Mood
Moody, Cinematic, Intense, dark
Themes of darkness, otherworldliness, New Orleans, Voodoo

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Acoustic Guitar, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Guitar, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums, Vocals - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300037
ISWC - T-325.498.970-9
Tunecode - 630925HR

Lyrics 
 

I cursed the sky cause its dark at night

I beat the ground cause I cannot fly

You fear the dark, I fear the night

 

And we wander down a dark, dark road

 

I curse the things that I cannot do

I curse the folk that i been bonded to

You fear the dark, I fear the night

 

And Still we wander down a dark, dark, dark road

 

 

I curse the dog that followed me home

A feral stare I’m just skin and bone

 

You fear the dog, I fear the bite

 

And we wander down a dark, dark, dark road

 

 

With all this time on my hands

It’s got me busy thinking

Maybe it’s the horse that’s been drinking

El Dorado

El Dorado

Genres
Rock, Americana, Bluegrass

Keywords / Mood
Fast paced, galloping, exciting, celebratory
Themes of drinking, partying, finding El Dorado

 

Instrumentation 
Electric Guitar, Banjo, Bass Guitar, Drums, Male Vocal

Versions Available 
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, Acapella, Bespoke

Credits 
Written by David Roux, Peter Briley
Guitar, Vocals - David Roux
Banjo, Bass Guitar, Vocals - Pete Briley
Drums - Ryan Smith


ISRC - UKWC92300038
ISWC - T-325.498.972-1
Tunecode - 630925HT

Lyrics 
 

One last round then we’ll call it a night

Line ‘em up, let’s do it right

Hold my beer and watch me go

‘Cause I’m 5 drinks in, 

El Dorado

 

 

 

I got the voice of a fallen angel 

That’s spent a little time in hell

A thirst for life and a hunger for death

I’m the founder of a drinking cartel

 

 

One last round then we’ll call it a night

Line ‘em up, let’s do it right

Hold my beer and watch me go

‘Cause I’m 5 drinks in, 

El Dorado

 

 

Hold my beer and watch me go

I’m 5 drinks in and I’ll let you know

My Amigos in La Familia

They’re waiting for me in El Dorado

 

 

A Drunken Ghost and a Drunken Host

A dead man’s hand that’s my bravado

A Voodoo Queen and a Horse named Hero

They’re in this bar in El Dorado

 

 

Mama’s screaming Please don’t go

Daddy says you’d better come home

But my amigos La Familia are

Raising hell in El Dorado

 

 

One last round then we’ll call it a night

Line ‘em up, let’s do it right

Hold my beer and watch me go

‘Cause I’m 5 drinks in, 

El Dorado

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