BARD RECORDS

Tag: Lyrics

  • We’ve Simplified Things

    We’ve Simplified Things

    Good news.
    You work here now.

    We’ve Simplified Things celebrates the modern miracle of making a service easier by getting the customer to provide it. Fewer staff, longer forms and considerably more efficiency, although nobody likes to dwell on exactly who it became more efficient for. Still, once you’ve finished doing the job, there’s usually a survey waiting to ask how well they did.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    For your convenience.
    Naturally.

    Used to be a service, now it’s making me earn it.
    Funny how convenience is just work in a nicer shirt.
    No one says it’s work, though, that would spoil the little trick.
    You just do a little more now while the service gets more slick.

    Less to ask, less to see,
    more efficient apparently.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    How did you do?

    Everywhere you go now, you seem to know the role.
    No badge, no little welcome pack, still somehow on the payroll.
    Nobody showed you anything, still you learned it quick.
    Funny what becomes a skill when someone else won’t do it.

    Quick and clean, nice and neat,
    one more little service off its feet.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    How did you do?

    The desks get slightly emptier, the forms get slightly longer.
    The signs say things are easier. Lovely bit of branding.
    Nobody seems surprised now, that’s probably the clever part.
    Take away the person, leave the process, call it smart.

    Nearly done. One thing more.
    Tell us how you found the service you performed.

    We’ve simplified things, nice and clean.
    Took out all the awkward bits, mostly human beings.
    We’ve simplified things, works a treat.
    You do half the service now, we call that efficiency.
    We’ve simplified things, nothing left to prove.
    Everything went brilliantly.
    How did you do?
    Please rate yourself from one to ten.

  • I Don’t Know Yet

    I Don’t Know Yet

    Something happened.
    Good news. Everyone already knows what.

    I Don’t Know Yet is for that awkward period between something happening and anyone knowing what happened. Usually about five minutes. After that there’s a witness, a cousin, someone who knows the family and a bloke in the pub with surprisingly detailed information. By lunchtime the facts are settled. By tomorrow they may even be correct. Waiting seemed an option, but apparently that looks suspicious.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Something happened.
    Don’t know what yet.
    Give it five minutes.

    Someone heard it from a neighbour who had heard it down the road.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who says he knows how this one goes.
    By eleven there’s a reason.
    By twelve someone knows who knew.
    By one it’s common knowledge.
    I’m a little behind the news.
    Saw two people by the doorway.
    One of them was on the phone.
    Couldn’t hear a word they said.
    Still, apparently it’s known.

    Could be this.
    Could be that.
    Bit late now.
    We’ve got the facts.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    I realise that looks quite bad.

    Someone saw a car there earlier.
    Someone says it wasn’t his.
    Someone’s cousin knows the family.
    That’s apparently useful.
    Chap behind the bar remembers something someone said last week.
    Didn’t mean much at the time.
    Means quite a lot since Tuesday.
    Every telling gets a detail.
    Every detail settles in.
    Nobody remembers who said what.
    Everyone remembers him.

    Could be wrong.
    Might be right.
    Anyway…
    that’s what I heard last night.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    Still getting the hang of that.

    More came out this morning.
    Didn’t quite fit what we’d heard.
    Nothing major.
    Just the people, place, the reason and a word.
    Funny thing, by lunchtime that’s what everyone had said.
    Apparently we’d known that bit.
    Must’ve got mixed up in my head.
    Bloke who knew the bloke says that’s the story all along.
    Nobody was actually wrong.
    Some bits just came out wrong.

    There we are.
    Mystery done.
    Nearly what we said at one.

    I don’t know yet.
    Sorry about that.
    Everybody else seems fairly sure of the facts.
    I don’t know yet.
    Give it a while.
    There’s a bloke who knows a bloke who’s cleared it all up now.
    I don’t know yet.
    Nothing to add.
    Everybody else seems miles ahead.
    I don’t know yet.

    I’ll wait till we know.
    Apparently we do.

    Something happened.
    Anyway.

  • Nothing Else Tonight

    Nothing Else Tonight

    I could go out.
    I just don’t particularly want to.

    Nothing Else Tonight is about an evening in which absolutely nothing happens, which turns out to be quite underrated. There’s washing I haven’t done, something forgettable on television and a plate I’ll deal with tomorrow. I nearly made plans simply because having no plans felt like something I ought to correct. Then I realised I was warm, comfortable and perfectly happy where I was. Sometimes being on your own isn’t a situation that needs fixing. Sometimes you just don’t fancy moving.

    ► BUY
    THOUGHTS, MOSTLY

    I left the washing where it was
    Turned the big light off
    There’s something on I’ve half been watching
    I’ve already lost the plot

    Someone’s laughing two doors down
    A car pulls up outside
    I thought about going somewhere
    Then changed my mind

    Nothing happened
    Nothing changed
    For once, that’s been alright

    There’s nothing else tonight
    Nothing I need to do
    Nowhere I said I’d be
    No plans I’m running to

    Everything I’ve left undone
    Can stay that way till morning
    There’s nothing else tonight
    And I’m quite happy here

    I found something in the freezer
    Ate it sitting on the couch
    Left the plate there for a while
    Still haven’t moved it now

    The heating clicked off hours ago
    Blanket round my knees
    Looked up and it was nearly midnight
    Could’ve sworn it was ten

    Nothing happened
    Nothing changed
    For once, that’s been alright

    There’s nothing else tonight
    Nothing I need to do
    Nowhere I said I’d be
    No plans I’m running to

    Everything I’ve left undone
    Can stay that way till morning
    There’s nothing else tonight
    And I’m quite happy here

    I nearly texted someone
    To see what they were doing
    Picked my phone up
    Put it down

    Didn’t really fancy moving

    There’s nothing else tonight
    Nothing I need to do
    Nowhere I said I’d be
    No plans I’m running to

    Everything I’ve left undone
    Can stay that way till morning
    There’s nothing else tonight
    And I’m quite happy here

    Nothing else tonight
    That’ll do me fine

  • Maybe That’s Enough

    Maybe That’s Enough

    Not everything needs a name.
    That includes whatever this is.

    Maybe That’s Enough is about liking someone without immediately needing to know where it’s going. He comes over, we have a good evening, he goes home and nobody has to turn it into a conversation about what happens next. After eleven years of knowing exactly where everything belonged, I’m quite enjoying leaving a few things undecided. Maybe it becomes something. Maybe it doesn’t. I’m trying not to ruin a perfectly nice present by demanding a future from it.

    ► BUY
    THOUGHTS, MOSTLY

    You said you’d call when you got home
    I didn’t ask what time
    I watched you leave, then made some tea
    And didn’t change my mind

    You left your jacket on the chair
    You’ll probably want it back
    I thought about what that might mean
    Then stopped myself at that

    Maybe that’s enough
    You come round, I let you
    We stay up too late
    I like being with you

    Maybe that’s enough
    Don’t need to make it more
    You know where I live
    You know which one’s my door

    You asked me what I’m doing Friday
    I said I wasn’t sure
    A year ago I’d need a reason
    Now I don’t anymore

    There’s still a toothbrush in the drawer
    I haven’t made you space
    You haven’t tried to leave one here
    I rather like it that way

    Maybe that’s enough
    You come round, I let you
    We stay up too late
    I like being with you

    Maybe that’s enough
    Don’t need to make it more
    You know where I live
    You know which one’s my door

    My friend asked what we’re calling this
    I said I didn’t know
    She waited for the rest of it

    There wasn’t any more

    Maybe that’s enough
    You come round, I let you
    We stay up too late
    I like being with you

    Maybe that’s enough
    Don’t need to make it more
    You know where I live
    You know which one’s my door

    Maybe that’s enough
    For now, I think it is

  • Not My Usual

    Not My Usual

    Apparently, “not my usual”
    isn’t the same as “not me.”

    Not My Usual is about the small pleasure of realising nobody else gets a vote anymore. I went looking for clothes, tried on things I’d normally walk straight past and spent slightly more than I intended. Nothing profound happened. I just stopped asking whether something looked like the person I’d been for the last eleven years. The jacket was unnecessary, the bags were getting heavy and I probably didn’t need half of it. I had a very nice afternoon.

    ► BUY
    THOUGHTS, MOSTLY

    I only came in for a look
    That’s what I told myself
    Now there’s six things on my arm
    And three more on the shelf

    The green one’s probably too much
    The red one’s slightly tight
    The woman says it suits me
    So naturally, she’s right

    I would’ve put it back before
    Said it’s not really me
    Funny how much easier that gets
    When no one’s there to disagree

    It’s not my usual
    That’s why I like it
    Little too bright
    Might still buy it

    I don’t need somewhere
    Special to wear it
    If it looks good
    That’s reason enough

    It’s not my usual
    Maybe that’s the point
    I’ve had the usual
    Long enough

    I tried the sensible one first
    It made me look like work
    The blue one nearly had a chance
    Until I saw the skirt

    I found a jacket half price
    That I absolutely don’t need
    Walked around the shop without it
    Then went back for it at three

    I used to hear an opinion
    Before I’d even left the room
    Now the only voice I’m listening to
    Says get the better shoes

    It’s not my usual
    That’s why I like it
    Little too bright
    Might still buy it

    I don’t need somewhere
    Special to wear it
    If it looks good
    That’s reason enough

    It’s not my usual
    Maybe that’s the point
    I’ve had the usual
    Long enough

    Two bags and a coffee
    More than I meant to spend
    I’ll probably take one thing back

    Probably

    Not today

    It’s not my usual
    That’s why I like it
    Little too bright
    Already bought it

    I don’t need somewhere
    Special to wear it
    If it looks good
    That’s reason enough

    It’s not my usual
    Maybe that’s the point
    I’ve had the usual
    Long enough

  • Black Dress

    Black Dress

    Eleven years is a long time.
    Apparently, it still fits by the door.

    Black Dress is about what remains once a long relationship has been reduced to boxes, possessions and two rather different versions of what happened. There are things worth arguing over and things you eventually realise aren’t worth another conversation. The dress stays. So does my name, my side of the story and, rather inconveniently for him, a perfectly functional life afterwards. He can keep the good towels.

    ► BUY
    THOUGHTS, MOSTLY

    You took the good towels when you left
    And somehow left the bills
    Three boxes marked “not worth much”
    Were mostly mine, but still

    You’d cleared your side by half past two
    I’d changed the lock by four
    Funny how eleven years
    Fits neatly by the door

    I found the restaurant receipt
    From somewhere you once lied
    Two drinks, a meal, a Tuesday night
    You said you’d worked till five

    I nearly rang to ask you why
    Then put the phone away
    I’d known enough for long enough
    There wasn’t more to say

    I kept the black dress
    I kept the receipt
    I kept my name
    You kept your story

    You took the towels
    You took your things
    You took eleven years
    And called it leaving

    I kept the black dress
    (black dress)
    It still looks good on me
    And I won’t be sweet
    No, I won’t be sweet

    Your mother called on Sunday night
    To tell me you’re “not well”
    I said I’m sorry, naturally
    She had a lot to tell

    Apparently you mention me
    Whenever things go wrong
    It’s nice to know I’m useful still
    Now that I’ve moved on

    You always liked the version where
    I couldn’t cope alone
    Still falling into pieces
    Still waiting by the phone

    Sorry if it spoils the story
    Nothing fell apart
    I bought myself a bigger bed
    And sleep right in the middle

    I kept the black dress
    I kept the receipt
    I kept my name
    You kept your story

    You took the towels
    You took your things
    You took eleven years
    And called it leaving

    I kept the black dress
    (black dress)
    It still looks good on me
    And I won’t be sweet
    No, I won’t be sweet

    You can tell them I was difficult
    I’ll give you that for free
    Tell them whatever works
    As long as it was mostly me

    Just leave out Wednesday morning
    When you came back for your things
    And stood there in the doorway
    Waiting to be let back in

    I kept the black dress
    I kept the receipt
    I kept my name
    You kept your story

    You took the towels
    You took your things
    You took eleven years
    And called it leaving

    I kept the black dress
    (black dress)
    It still looks good on me
    And I won’t be sweet
    No, I won’t be sweet

  • One Law For Everyone

    One Law For Everyone

    One law for everyone.
    Some assembly required.

    One Law for Everyone was inspired by a 76-year-old pensioner who managed to turn a burqa into something considerably more troublesome than a fashion statement. He’s studying Islam, considering conversion and identifies as a woman. Britain has spent years explaining how important it is to respect religious belief, gender identity and the law. Splendid principles, all of them. Then along comes an elderly gentleman who decides to take the instructions rather literally, and suddenly everyone needs to consult the manual. The police have their interpretation, the courts have theirs, and somewhere in Whitehall there’s probably a civil servant frantically searching for the section entitled “What If Somebody Actually Tries This?” The remarkable thing is that he hasn’t needed a megaphone, a protest march or even a particularly sturdy pair of shoes. Just a veil and an apparent willingness to test how all these carefully worded principles fit together. Whether his legal argument succeeds is for the court to decide. In the meantime, the questions are rather entertaining. One law for everyone. Apparently. Just don’t ask everyone at once.


    ► BUY
    EVIDENCE

    Seventy-six, a public menace,
    Armed with nothing but a veil.
    Britain’s finest wrote the rulebook,
    Then watched their logic fail.

    They banned the masks, then made exceptions,
    Left the small print nice and wide.
    An old man took them at their wording,
    And watched their courage hide.

    He’s studying Islam, might convert,
    Identifies as a woman too.
    Now the experts need a meeting
    To decide which rules are true.

    They can define a hundred genders,
    They can lecture us on faith.
    But a pensioner in Portsmouth
    Has them checking every page.

    One law for everyone,
    What a lovely little lie.
    Seventy-six, beneath a burqa,
    With a courtroom asking why.

    One law for everyone,
    One pensioner, one veil.
    A rulebook full of exceptions,
    And a law put on trial.

    Another veil, another protest,
    High-vis jacket, denim jeans.
    That one’s treated as religion,
    This one’s treated as a crime scene.

    They’ve got principles for the cameras,
    They’ve got standards for the press.
    They’ve got very different answers
    When the wrong man wears the dress.

    No one’s checking holy scripture,
    No one’s measuring belief.
    Just a sudden burst of certainty
    When it’s someone they can brief.

    One law for everyone,
    What a lovely little lie.
    Seventy-six, beneath a burqa,
    With a courtroom asking why.

    One law for everyone,
    One pensioner, one veil.
    A rulebook full of exceptions,
    And a law put on trial.

    Then he turned up at the court,
    The same black veil upon his face.
    They asked him to remove it,
    And made another special case.

    Would they ask another woman?
    Would they risk the same offence?
    Suddenly the fearless system
    Found a little common sense.

    The law’s not blind, it’s short of glasses,
    And the guidance needs a guide.
    They’ve got courage by committee,
    And a different rule for each side.

    They preach respect and equal treatment,
    Then get tangled in the cloth.
    An old man doesn’t need to shout
    To pull the bloody curtain off.

    One law for everyone,
    What a lovely little lie.
    Seventy-six, beneath a burqa,
    With a courtroom asking why.

    One law for everyone,
    One pensioner, one veil.
    They wrote the rules to govern him,
    Now the rulebook’s on trial.

    No riot shield, no master plan,
    No great revolutionary.
    Just a pensioner in a burka,
    And a state that’s scared of irony.

  • Already Happened

    Already Happened

    Nobody tells you it’s the last time.
    They assume you’ll notice.

    Already Happened is about the ordinary endings that never announce themselves. We expect important moments to arrive carrying music, speeches or at least a reasonable amount of ceremony. Most don’t. They arrive disguised as routine: the last familiar journey, the last visit to a place, the last conversation before life quietly rearranges itself around something else. Only later, often years later, do they reveal what they were. Indi-Glo Blue isn’t mourning the past so much as noticing how effortlessly it slips into it. The important days rarely look important while we’re living them. They mostly look like Tuesday.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Funny thing about last times.
    Most of them have already happened.

    There was a road I used to drive
    without deciding where it led.
    Knew the corners, knew the houses,
    knew which lights would change ahead.

    Couldn’t tell you when I stopped.
    Nothing said to pay attention.
    One day it was part of everything.
    Then it wasn’t anymore.

    No closing scene.
    No final line.

    Just something ordinary
    for the final time.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    I only noticed afterwards.

    There were people I saw constantly.
    Then monthly.
    Then sometimes.

    Nobody fell out.
    Nothing broke.
    Life just got remarkably good
    at filling in the gaps.

    Places changed eventually.
    Shops went, signs came down.
    I still know exactly where things were.
    Which isn’t much use now.

    No warning bell.
    No grand goodbye.

    Just one more ordinary
    final time.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    I only noticed afterwards.

    There are clothes I stopped wearing,
    songs I somehow stopped putting on.
    A version of me knew every word.
    He seems to have moved along.

    Things I thought I’d always do
    became things I used to do.
    No decision.
    No announcement.

    Apparently that’s enough.

    You expect the important ones
    to look important.

    They don’t.

    They look like Tuesday.
    Half past four.
    Keys on the table.
    Nothing unusual.

    Then years later you realise…

    that was it.

    It already happened.
    Didn’t notice when it went.
    No last look, nothing marked it.
    Just another day
    I didn’t think to keep.

    It already happened.
    No warning.
    Nothing changed.

    Just something I was still doing…

    until I wasn’t anymore.

    Funny thing about last times.
    You usually find out late.

  • Getting Toxic

    Getting Toxic

    Everyone should have a voice.
    Just not during my post.

    Getting Toxic quietly observes one of social media’s favourite contradictions. Platforms are celebrated as places for conversation, debate and free expression, right up until the conversation starts travelling in an unexpected direction. Praise counts as engagement. Disagreement somehow becomes “toxicity.” Indi-Glo Blue isn’t interested in online arguments as much as the strange performance surrounding them: announcing departures, explaining breaks, limiting comments for wellbeing, then returning a week later because the algorithm, unfortunately, never learned to miss anybody. It’s a song about wanting an audience more than a discussion, and discovering they’re not quite the same thing.

    ► BUY
    OBSERVED BEHAVIOUR

    Million people following, so naturally you’ve got some things to say,
    another little lesson for the people getting life the wrong way.
    Free speech matters, every voice deserves a chance to make some noise,
    funny how it works much better when they’re listening to your voice.

    Thousands tell you “well said”, hundreds tell you that you’re right,
    all that healthy conversation carrying you through the night.
    Then a few start answering, apparently they’ve got opinions too,
    that’s when open conversation gets a little toxic for you.

    Use your voice, speak your mind,
    everyone deserves one…
    the approved kind.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    Praise is healthy feedback, disagreement’s something else instead,
    one gets hearts and thank-you messages, the other’s better left unread.
    Block another hundred while defending everybody’s right to speak,
    nothing inconsistent there, you’ve made that perfectly clear all week.

    Comments limited for wellbeing, taking time to clear your head,
    seven paragraphs explaining why you’re leaving in a thread.
    Please respect the privacy surrounding everything you’ve shared,
    and thanks for all the lovely public messages that show you care.

    Speak your truth, make it heard,
    everybody matters…
    mind the words.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    Taking time away now, social media isn’t healthy anymore,
    statement’s been reposted by the team who’ll keep on running things for sure.
    Thanks for all the lovely comments underneath the leaving post,
    nice to know that stepping out can somehow generate engagement most.

    Back to clarify the rumours, back to thank you for support,
    back because the press have taken something slightly out of sorts.
    Then a quiet week of healing till there’s something new to plug,
    welcome back, refreshed and stronger,
    please remember, like and love.

    Stepping back, logging out,
    one more post to tell you all about.

    It’s getting toxic, something’s changed,
    people keep replying in completely different ways.
    It’s getting toxic, can’t you see?
    Everybody gets a voice,
    just preferably not at me.

    It’s getting toxic, time to leave,
    thank you for respecting this announcement in your feed.
    It’s getting toxic, that’s enough…
    See you when I’ve something new to plug.

  • Light Touch

    Light Touch

    Your privacy matters.
    Right up until somebody can make money from it.

    Light Touch grew out of growing calls to replace Britain’s data protection laws with a more “light-touch” approach in the name of innovation, AI and economic growth. Apparently the real obstacle to progress wasn’t a lack of technology, investment or ideas. It was the irritating habit of ordinary people expecting to know who was collecting their information and why. Funny how privacy is always described as a fundamental right until it starts slowing somebody’s business plan. Then it quietly becomes paperwork, bureaucracy and something we’d all be better off having a little less of. Just trust them. Probably.

    ► BUY
    EVIDENCE

    Your privacy matters to us.
    It’s just becoming
    a little inconvenient.

    Fill in your name, tell us where you live
    Tell us who you voted for, there’s prizes to give
    Tell us who you’ll vote for when election day comes
    Maybe your whole street gets the heating bill done

    Nothing suspicious, it’s a harmless little game
    Just your politics, your postcode and your name
    Then somebody asks what you’re gathering it for

    Funny how nobody likes that question anymore

    Privacy’s important
    That’s what they always say
    Right until the regulations
    Start getting in the way

    Light touch, light touch
    Cut the red tape down
    All those pesky little rules
    Getting business off the ground

    Your data’s safe with us
    Probably
    That’s the line
    Just give us fewer rules
    And everything will be fine

    Light touch, light touch
    Nothing here to see
    Funny how your privacy
    Became bureaucracy

    Now GDPR’s the villain, strangling enterprise
    Too many awkward questions about who gets what and why
    Innovation needs your data, AI needs feeding too
    Apparently the problem is the law protecting you

    Access and objection, deletion if you please
    Awful lot of rights when there’s money in the machine
    So strip away the burden, let the future through

    They probably won’t do anything
    you wouldn’t want them to

    Probably won’t profile you
    Probably won’t share
    Probably won’t find another use
    For everything that’s there

    Probably.

    Light touch, light touch
    Cut the red tape down
    All those pesky little rules
    Getting business off the ground

    Your data’s safe with us
    Probably
    That’s the line
    Just give us fewer rules
    And everything will be fine

    Light touch, light touch
    Nothing here to see
    Funny how your privacy
    Became bureaucracy

    When they want your data
    It’s innovation

    When you want it protected
    It’s regulation

    When they want fewer rules
    It’s economic growth

    And when you ask where this ends?

    Well…

    Nobody’s proposing anything.

    Yet.

    Give them your postcode
    Give them your vote
    Give them your habits
    Whatever you wrote

    Give them the rules
    Then watch them complain
    That protecting the public
    Is holding back gain

    Light touch, light touch
    Cut the red tape down
    Privacy’s expensive
    When there’s data going round

    Your data’s safe with us
    Probably
    So relax
    They only want the freedom
    To loosen up the Acts

    Light touch, light touch
    Progress guaranteed
    Funny how your private life
    Became something business needs

    We value your privacy.

    Probably.