Chorus
Laryngitis…has got a grip on me
Laryngitis…it won’t let me be
Verse 1 My throat don’t want me anymore
Been treating her like a
Bedford Street whore
Working her hard - with no affection
When she’s sore - pay no attention
It hurts to laugh - hurts to cough
Hurts to rap, Hurts to talk
I’m raging - cuz my doctor can’t help
But truth be told - I blame myself
Motherfucker I’m ill - and sick
Tell Mary Harney - I feel wick
Tell Mike - D it’s not time to get ill
I’m going to need a powerful will
Cuz vocal rest, is the only approach
Of sorting out my fucked up throat
With a larynx raw - and looking grotesque
I’m going on a silent protest
Verse 2
H-2-0 - guzz-l-er
8 month sore throat suf-fer-er
Lost at sea like a cock-l-ers
Exhausted like old muff-l-ers
Ballix - I’m immune to Lockets
Got a grip of sick-line dockets
Sir piss-a-lot - I’m always peein’
Drink enough water for ten Somalian’s
Off the liquid - cow’s produce
Plus salty shit and pure fruit juice
No more grass - or spicy foods
No more gigs - no more booze
That happiness - an elaborate ruse
Cuz I’ve been paying for all my dues
“But patience - it’s a - virtue
If ye give up it’ll only hurt you”
Verse 3
9 – months – without the sauce
Live like monks in Mount Athos
Feel trapped - like citizens of China
My larynx morphed into a vagina
Anal about throw maintenance
Hold my breath around cigarettes
Honey ‘n’ lemon makes no difference
How could I of been so ignorant?
To think shoutin’ - loutin’d be Ok
With beer, whiskey and grass that’s sprayed
Throat was fucked, but I didn’t care
Until I wound up in this dull nightmare
A spoilsport, in a party gaff
So – don’t smoke - in my flat
“Aye - Brendy killed the craic”
Fuck that - Brendy wants his voice back
Verse 4
Lady-less – a sober mess
On self-sanctioned – house arrest
Eating right – drinkin’ less
My ship’s a sinkin’ mess
Told my ma – I’m on the fritzle
My head’s like potassium crystals
Been stewing in my own spittle
Life ain’t sweet like a pack of Skittles
Emotions are – up the left
A mute – only – I’m not deaf
Shattered – I’ve got nothing left
An all time low - bass clef
Can’t bounce back – getting older
Longest sore throat record holder
Weather’s dry – it’s getting colder
Wrong place - wrong time like British soldiers
End
Get – the fuck out – of my throat – you cunt
Tell – your mates – that I've had enough
You – have long – overstayed your welcome
Your lease – has been up – for the past 6 months
One of my favorite records ever. So good, I bought it twice; once on CD at a Tribe One show, and again here on Bandcamp so I could listen to it on the app whenever I wanted. It's amazing. One of the best records of the year, hands down. Insane Ian