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James Domestic

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  • Store
  • Bio
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    • Photos
    • Push on Through
    • Faze Out
    • Mañana
    • Carrion Repeating (album)
  • Artwork
  • Poetry
  • Contact
  • Other Music Projects
    • The Domestics
    • PI$$ER
    • Tokyo Lungs
    • Hazard Profile
    • Körd Värld
    • Botched Toe
    • Cabro
    • Bring The Drones
    • Dub Weasel
    • Da Groins
  • Bonus Stuff! [Subscriber Only]
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  1. BEAN COUNTER

From the recording Carrion Repeating

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Lyrics

Well, you take a little bit of something from there
And a little bit of something from there
You got to manage it, balance it
Collect it and wreck it
You’re like King Herod
But there’s no baby for anyone
Except for you and your cronies
Troughing down on your baby limb soup
And what can you really do?
What can you really do?
You’re a cunt that can count
You’re a cunt that can count
Yeah, you’re just a cunt that can count
But you know the worth of nothing
Well, you’re a cunt that can count
Yeah, you’re a cunt that can count
You’re just a cunt that can count
But you know the worth of nothing
Well, it’s a “tactical restructure”
That’s what they say, and then they fuck you
Twice the work, half the staff
While they’re poncing round the golf course
Having a laugh at your expense
It sticks in my craw
Not because I love my job
I fucking hate it to be fair
But it’s like being in stasis and getting wages
And now you’ve fucked it
You’re a cunt that can count
Well, you’re a cunt that can count
You’re just a cunt that can count
But you know the worth of nothing
Well, you’re a cunt that can count
You’re just a cunt that can count
Well, you’re a cunt that can count
But you know the worth of nothing
I’ve seen a horse that can count
Tapping it’s fucking hoof
You can barely do anything that any sentient being can’t do
And I’m including livestock in that
Even Kev could out-moo you, and he’s as thick as shit
People are nothing but numbers
And it’s your job to crunch ‘em
Grind ‘em into dust, mate
You know that you must, mate
You’ve got a brand-new pool to pay for
Take your anaconda for a wander through your spreadsheet
And we all hold our breath
Bean counter!
You fucking bean counter!
Wielding your projections on growth
But you don’t use your loaf
‘cos you’re a numerical oaf
Bean counter!
Bean counter!
You’re a cunt that can count
Yeah, you’re a cunt that can count
Any cunt can count
You don’t know the worth of nothing
Ah, you’re a cunt that can count
You’re just a cunt that can count
Well, you’re a cunt that can count
But you know the worth of nothing
The worth of nothing

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