A Cold Day In Hell EP (Full Session)

by Four Letter Word

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Welly: Vocals
Neil: Guitar
Tom: Bass
Wedge: Drums

credits

released December 18, 2000

Lyrics: Welly
Music: Four Letter Word
Except: Track 5 and 6
Design: Welly

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Four Letter Word Cardiff, UK

Punk rock band formed in 1991 in Cardiff, U.K. Released debut EP in 1995, debut album in 1998 on BYO Records. Toured U.S./Canada in 1998. Released second album on BYO in 1999 before Trade Mark issues with the first of many name claimers. FLW fought and won and soldiered on releasing two further albums and a handful of EPs, toured the U.S. again, before in 2011 they called it a day after 20 years. ... more

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Track Name: A Cold Day In Hell
A COLD DAY IN HELL

You can feel it in the echoes of a distant call
In the flaking ceiling of the dark school hall
In the faded ink on the carrier bags
In the crumpled pages of yesterdays news
In the broken ranks of the churches pews
And the fraying tatters of the town hall flags

It's a cold day in hell
You can see just by the cracks beneath your feet that all's not well
It's a cold day in hell
Well I guess that the day that would never come is here or can't you tell?
Cold day in hell, cold day in hell, cold day in hell, in hell

You can see it in the eyes of the drunk at first light
In the broken bottles that appeared overnight
In the junk food litter whipping up in the road
In the ageing furrows of the old man's frown
In the blackened clouds that threaten the town
Keeping it dark and keeping it cold

It's a cold day in hell
You can see just by the cracks beneath your feet that all's not well
It's a cold day in hell
Can you hear the echoes on the wind of a sad and distant bell?
Cold day in hell, cold day in hell, cold day in hell, in hell

You can feel it in the echoes of a distant call
In the flaking ceiling of the dark school hall
In the faded ink on the carrier bags
In the crumpled pages of yesterdays news
In the broken ranks of the churches pews
And the fraying tatters of the town hall flags
You can hear it in the clock that never keeps time
In the nervous chatter of the unemployed line
In the peeling poster you can see underneath
In the pool of blood where the victim had kneeled
In the shroud of mist that drapes on the field
And the clap of thunder as it tears through the peace

It's a cold day in hell
You can see just by the cracks beneath your feet that all's not well
It's a cold day in hell
Can you hear the echoes on the wind of a sad and distant bell?
Cold day in hell, cold day in hell
Track Name: Unsung
UNSUNG

I'm never gonna make a movie, never gonna write a book
Won't be realised or recognised, or given a second look
I'm never gonna be regarded, translated to a different tongue
I won't get a look in a history book, destined to be unsung

Unsung - we are one
Walking down the line 'til our day is done
Unsung - to our mothers clung
Six billion at a time under the sun

I'm never gonna be rewarded, for my efforts to aid mankind
I won't be in lights or reach great heights, my pictures are all unsigned
I'm not gonna be remembered, for anything I achieve
I just toe the line and do my time, and accordingly take my leave

Unsung - we are one
Walking down the line 'til our day is done
Unsung - to our mothers clung
Six billion at a time under the sun

I'm never gonna make my fortune, or walk in the hall of fame
We might have met but you'll forget, you won't recall my name
I'll never amount to nothing, I'm just a worker in the hive
But if the wheels don't turn you will not earn, the credit keeps you alive

Unsung - we are one
Walking down the line 'til our day is done
Unsung - to our mothers clung
Six billion at a time under the sun
Track Name: Kick 'Em When They're Down
KICK 'EM WHEN THEY'RE DOWN

It seems evermore that I am unimpressed
Everytime I step inside the viper's nest
I see them moan and spill their guts
I see men crying over paper cuts
And I just feel like an uninvited guest

Who's this weeks hero and who's to be despised?
Do you really think you're different from the world outside?
Who's this weeks leader, who wears the crown?
The price of admission... kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down...

I'm getting sick and tired of your social scene
Two fingers prop my flagging self esteem
I'm in a pit of hypocrites I think it's time I called it quits
There's only black and white, there's nothing inbetween

Who's this weeks hero and who's to be despised?
Do you really think you're different from the world outside?
Who's this weeks leader, who wears the crown?
The price of admission... kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down...

You're all just kissing arse to get where you wanna be
You want your respect, you want it for free
Can someone please tell me why I'd ever want to unify
With people who just like the same music as me?

Who's this weeks hero and who's to be despised?
Do you really think you're different from the world outside?
Who's this weeks leader, who wears the crown?
The price of admission... kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down, kick 'em when they're down...
Track Name: These Battered Photographs
THESE BATTERED PHOTOGRAPHS

In the darkest corners of where I never go
There's a whole load of people that I used to know
They just sit there quietly waiting, in silence re-creating
Someplace, sometime, somewhere, from long ago

These battered photographs
A frozen friend that laughs
A night from long ago, that now I hardly know
A future we all feared, is fading and dog eared
All bent and torn in half
These battered photographs

Their faces rarely ever see the light of day
And their edges slowly blend before they fade away
I can almost hear their voices, from days before the choices
Of where to go and when or maybe stay

These battered photographs
A frozen friend that laughs
A night from long ago, that now I hardly know
A future we all feared, is fading and dog eared
All bent and torn in half
These battered photographs

So I put them back to rest in their old tin box
My little gun with a trigger but no safety locks
Sending shots off in my head, of the times I thought were dead
Take away the slow decay that the mirror mocks that the mirror mocks

These battered photographs
A frozen friend that laughs
A night from long ago, that now I hardly know
A future we all feared, is fading and dog eared
All bent and torn in half
These battered photographs