Dead Again

September Sun

Some Stupid Tomorrow

Hail and Farewell to Britain

These Three Things

Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls

Slit My Wrist

Lyrics:

Your head starts to rock
As it nods in time 
With the rhythm dancing to this rhyme

Your head starts to rock
As it nods in time 
With the rhythm dancing to this rhyme

The beat holds you dear 
Your foot starts to tap
The crowd begins to clap.

Clap. Clap. Clap. 

"That's nice."....

I'll tell you a story about the first slow clap.
The tale is a little gory but it really does slap.
So now behold the glory of the slow clap rap.

"It all began with a kid called Markus"...

(Clap clap clap)

Markus was a simple lad
He scurried about his ways
He was young and tall, well fed 
Living in Ancient Roman days

His family: Middle Class.
The Colosseum: Full of Delights
He could afford to see the mighty fights.

Move sight to the Colosseum
Markus is sight seeing
A normal day, a normal fight
He just popped in for quick Punch 'N Bite

His Seat he's gotten 
Drink he's not forgotten 
Snacks? Check!
Gladiator gets killed by spear to neck.
The Crowd is Bored
Silence has soared.

Not a sound but the cry as the gladiator did die.

Not a sound, and around everyone is looking down with a frown.

Quick Death is lame.
What a shame.

Crowd looks for blame.
The Emperor is Here
He's Expecting a Cheer
The Colosseum is in Silence. 
Tension is in the air
Rising Expectations of Violence 
The Emperor has a death stare.

Vibe's are flat
Tensions are about to break
The Emperor is Mad.
His jowls begin to shake

(Flap flap flap)

Markus sees a need
He acts with sudden speed
He loves his Rome 
He loves his home
His next actions may get him killed.
Or, his Dreams could be fulfilled!

He claps out a song
Hoping to get the throng to clap along!!!!
Slow. Clap. A. Long.

Clap

Clap

Clap

Clap

He starts it slow, just a single bold beat,
Eyes are turnin’ ‘round to the emperor’s seat.
Clap… clap… now the rhythm takes hold,
One boy with a plan, now the crowd's getting bold.

Clap

Clap

Clap

Clap

The crowd is clapping 
People are cheering 
A happy populous 
Is what the Emperor is hearing

He smiles at Markus
He gives a small nod
Markus smiles back
While muttering "What a miserable Sod"

From satire to scene-stealer, Marcus is like a dagger,
The slow clap echoes like a victory swagger.
Now the Roman's roar, like lions in the cage,
Markus just smirks, he owns this stage.
No crown, no sword, no blood on his hands,
Just the first slow clap to land, that made them all stand.

That's the tale of Marcus who did a slap of a clap.

And now this song has to wrap.

So CLAP!!!!!!



Hail and Farewell to Britain

Type O Negative

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