UNMASTERED PREVIEW FROM FORTHCOMING RECORDINGS

Greetings - Droylsden Swagger

Alex Solo - rhythm guitar, vocals, organ
Daniel Forsyth - lead guitar
Jonathan Hughes - bass
Matt Ahern - drums
Roisin Brehony - vocals
Louis Brehony - sax

Recorded and Mixed by Jim Adama at SSR Manchester


Sitting On Top Of The World

Electric Guitar, Mandolin: Daniel Forsyth
Bass: Jonathan Hughes
Fender Rhodes: Andy Semi
Drums: Matt Ahern
Lead vocals, 12-string guitar: Alex Solo
Backing vocals: Sally Cook, Roisin Brehony, Laura Mc, Lauren Dawson
Djembe: Jack Hardiker

Music and lyrics by Alex Solo and Greetings, after '9PM(Till I come)' by ATB and of course Dolly Parton.  
Mixed by Chris Hamilton at Toast Recording Studio
Master by Kri Kri in that there London

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GREETINGS – 12 to 12 [2012]

workin 12 to 12 or til the man says stop
everybody here wants to get along
except for one lad, he thinks he’s real bad
i hope i clock off before he clocks on 
that ive 
slowed down on the quota (ah-ha)
and changed his name on the rota
now it jus says ‘nob’

its the only way i can play god, when im
workin 12 til 12 or til the man says
everybody here wants to get along

i can do it, i can stay strong
i work these hours to right my wrongs
cos i’ve been under the water (ah-ha)
u try and keep ur head up but they hold u down 
now the weeks go by like a merry-go round
when i flick that switch and hear a whirrin sound i know 

that i’m 
workin 12 to 12 or till the man says
workin 12 till 12 or til the man says 
workin 12 til 12 or till the man says 
stop

prometheus chained to the rock
keeps lookin at the clock tick-tock
be a workhorse work til u drop
giddy giddy up giddy giddy up 

(oohs)
(ahhs)

oh how i’d like to steal away
the sun don’t shine, you don’t make hay (any other way)and ain’t that the truth 

prometheus paid his debt
but is mi eagle dead not yet
i can see its silhouette
comin to get mi comin to get mi

watch me cut those chains lose
i take my head outta that noose
i’ve bin choking too long
see now how my legs grow strong
and i hit that mile of tarmac
like a greyhound tearing up a racetrack

i let my feet do all the talkin (you were running away)
and the bosses stood there gawpin
at mi style and pose (wheet-woo)

...and i’ve got a new job now! 

but once again im 
workin 12 to 12 or til the man says stop
everybody there wants to get a long

except for one lad, he thinks he’s real bad 
i hope i clock off
to be forever gone 

——————————————————

Greetings

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