Baby P

Free music for professional licensing

God Made Animals
Great And Small
Some That Slither
And Some That Crawl
And Social Services Employ Them All

This album is a tribute to the victims of the SS. No pun intended whatsoever.
Some may think this is in very poor taste. Just remember that it was the British tabloid media who took innocent pictures of naked toddlers by a professional artist and stuck "censored" stickers over their genitalia, thus adding a sexual dimension where non was intended whatsoever. If they are offended by this album, I'd be absolutely delighted..... FLM
As for the "Baby P" case, it is indeed tragic. But children througout history have been tortured, beaten and raped. Even royalty. However, the best social workers in the world are never gonna stop this stuff happening completely, short of a complete psychological understanding of child abuse which is some time away, and even then there's no absolute guarantee.
What these cases do mean is that more kids will be taken away from loving working class families who's only "crime" is poverty.... Newspapers want MORE state control in YOUR lives, and LESS restrictions on the super-rich club....

Forget psychedelic, this is psychotic pop at its f**king best. If you don’t like this album we recommend that you take more drugs till you do. Sleep depravation helps a bit too.

Once again the “bunch of spastics from Peckham” return with some ludicrous yet infectiously catchy music, libelous opinionated gossip and exceptionally poor taste. Some alternative mixes of previous music are included on this album.

Written, produced and performed by Andy Wainwright. Additional production and remix by Twiggy. Musicians: Andy, Twiggy, Nev, Stuart Mallinson, Tammy Hales, Katy Morton, Rachel Brown


Assisted Suicide Bomber

Went to my doctor
with a pain in my head
said I had a tumour
and that I’d soon be dead
well I just shrugged my shoulders
cos I didn’t give a s**t
I said “cut the c**p and give me
A diamorphine hit”

So I met a girl who sang the blues
Who’s now reduced to sniffing glues
Done so much crack she can hardly sing
And reckons Daddy was The King.
cos we’re stuck in Big Brother’s House
We smuggled in some Famous Grouse
I’ve got no dollars, not a dime
And now it’s medication time

So as I sit and smoke my bong
I sing this resignation song
Guess I ain’t happy and nor are you
Cos all my f**king dreams came true
I’d be the bootleg Mark Chapman
But I can’t even fire a cap gun
Should I take this axe and kill kill kill
Test the existence of free will

Cos they built this wall
Around the school
To protect
The Kids both big and small
But this idea was pretty rank
‘cos Thomas Hamilton didn’t have a f**king tank

Let’s faces the thoughts been in our heads
Of shooting little toddlers dead
Of genocide and incest too
Whist loaded up on special brew
We’ve all got our sour grapes
Dirty secrets, child rapes
And if you think this taste is poor
You tory c**ts believe in war
What if Madeline McCann
Came from Iraq or from Iran
No column inches and no fame
But like Shylock, she bleed the same

London, new york , gaza strip
Moneys kind and people s**t
Now as I’m sitting in this ward
No OBE or grammy award
In very frail mental health
Haloperidol’s made me p*ss myself
And just for a second I could actually see
There’s a lot more that a little bit of Elvis in me

Some people say you shouldn’t do drugs
But you’re saying it too late
Some of its genetics
And the rest of it is fate
Well rock is a religion
A journey through the soul
Where Tammi turns to Shirley, and Shirley to Nicole
The faces change
But not the guilt
Of decadence
Integrity spilt
Indulgences of rock and roll
The highest priest has sold his soul

Mushrooms pills and LSD
A growing web of conspiracy
I’m paranoid and way to go
I’m on the f**king Truman show
Delusions of grandeur
Illusion of life
Cutting your wrists up
With a kitchen knife
Remind yourself it’s just a ride
And no-one has ever really died

The Assisted Sucide Bomber
The martyr for the thick
God gave me everything that I want (and I really really want)
And I wanted to be a pr**k.