bailer & retainer (hedge burners) - over spray lyrics
“some of these kids uhh, its grabbed them like a form of alcoholism or nicotine, um, i’ve actually had one in tears in front of me where he claims he can’t get on a train without having a can of spray paint or one of those monstrous felt tip markers in his pocket, he feels alone, he gets on the train and he doesn’t have one with him, and this kid is dead serious, he was in tears telling me about it…”
[bailer]
kickin’ on the line, doin’ loops, k!llin’ time
petty crime just to get a bit of paint while you beddy-bye
ready i wait with a mate or two, we create a few
pieces of mastery, midnight artistry
stars the only art critic ’til daylight creep in slowly
to erase dark like buff over flow pen
30ml dirty still, stains will remain
while other names fade like ironlak in the rain or sun
train‘ll come late with a painted face, some will smile
others hate anythin’ that they can’t explain
is it art or damage? seduce us if i manage
to leave the place battered, tore apart the train carriage
mesk and jaws, they left a path through the desert
so walk with respect, don’t forget all the effort
give credit it where it’s due, don’t cap what you can’t burn
or get left with the scr-p, now that’s what you might learn
it strikes like ransom, we’re the wild and bold
and drop burners like pyro that’ll leave a fire cold
master letter form, yes, get better than the norm
perform like we’re the veteran disguiser on the wall
puzle or epic, dazzled any skeptic
we kept up with the graffers all the same type retric
while street artists flourish, we stay under nourished
and rummage under carriage with the green bag of damage
that actually creates and elevates colour shapes from a duller day
as we shout “f-ck the colour grey!”
[retainer]
on a bridge with bailers, drop sl!ck retainers
with gripped stainers, they think it’s aimless
but they exist nameless, we get famous
the brick aimers, livin’ dangerous, each mission heinous
cops have caught me before i got a smokers’ fitness
throwup from door to door like jehovah’s witness
not talkin’ of the lord or promotin’ christmas
for photos and pictures you can’t own with riches
solo mishes, polo’s and b-tches
sl!ck rockin’ sunnies when i’m hittin’ on hunnies
p-ssin’ off gumbies, ink-blotched undies, sippin’ on bundies
punchin’ cones, drunk on romes
huntin’ home and construction zones for buff tones, bustin’ chromes
bombin’ tracks with raw designs
johnny cash, i walk the line
plot the trash all i find
never gonna change my word
veteran bomber like james hird
rack posca, paint preferred
never went to the top but my place was earned
patiently learned, and to my mates i burned
“it’s just the painting at night becomes the foundations for, you know, what you’re there for, which is to get the photos, to see it, to have that feeling of the adrenaline, just the power, of you know, you were there alone, once you see it you have flashbacks, you remember being there in the dark and painting and looking around, when you’re in the yard and you’re painting the train, you’re going against the governments, you’re going against the police, you’re going against everyone, it’s like rebelling fully against every system every authority just to get your work out, where going to the yard and being alone and painting alone is such a, sort of, spiritual thing”
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