Dennis Nilson's vocal recordings are public domain in the UK, so I sampled some here. He was quite a disturbed fellow, killed 12 - 15 men in London in the 70's and 80's.
I got called into work today, so I had to throw something together with some loops from Apple and the text to speech algorithms that come from macOS. Came out pretty twisted and gnarly. I swear this round has been my worst for these slapdash jobs compiled at the last minute.
The production on this is fuckin’ gnarly and not in a good way. I’m sorry. I mixed this on a pair of ear buds in a classroom full of high school senior boys working on their IB oral exams. It was less than ideal.
lyrics
Scaferlati cigarettes
That old Kentucky burn
Jailor, spin the tape again
And tell me what you learn
I hear the hammers calling
The hangman’s mouth a foam
Got me a baker’s dozen
Disciples in my home
Loved them in my way, I did
Ligatures and all
No, they’ll never leave me
But they’re reeking in the hall
Dressed in dolly’s clothes, they are
My loves, they all but burn
The stinking of their passion
To feel their flesh, I yearn
Sorry, lost my way, I have
The blood does flow, I say
Do you have a tissue?
I haven’t wanked today
Scaferlati cigarettes
That old Kentucky burn
Jailor, spin the tape again
And tell me what you learn
Drunken loving man I was
All tits and candy floss
‘Fraid my latest crush, he feeds
My garden’s haircap moss
The coppers they came running
I told all was to tell
Though they barely listened
I acquitted myself well
Yes, I am a monster
And I love a pint of beer
Maybe I was made this way
For the crime of being queer
I hear the hammers calling
The hangman’s mouth a foam
Got me a baker’s dozen
Disciples in my home
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