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Down the Allotment

by Surfin Turnips

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1.
Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: Oh Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung. Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. The souls did from their bodies fly,— They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, Like the whizz of my cross-bow! Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray— O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway
2.
Windbound 03:09
3.
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5.
6.
Cider Police 01:46
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8.
Cider Riot 02:23
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13.
Mr. Carrot 03:28
14.

about

Welcome to our latest bountiful musical harvest - Down the Allotment!

The allotment is like a magical hidden dell where you may find gnomes, pixies and mythical cider crusties whom you thought had disappeared years ago, burried in mud, swillin the scrump as they tend their marrows. There be sheds a-plenty and compost mounds where the aged punk rocker and young'un alike can meditate with their flaggon of the golden liquid, contemplating the meaning of anarchy in today's post-post modern existence. Tis crazy who you'm sees up there these days. Us Turnips are lucky to live in an areal with many special places. Supplies of marrows are harvested before each gig and delivered to the punk rock hoards in tribute to the link between the old music and the land. Little do they punks realise what legends have been growing these succulent delights, sometimes it might be that guy from the Amebix, Chaos Uk, Disorder, Chaotic Discord, Lunatic Fringe, Vice Squad or even yer mum, blimey the other day we were digging out a massive pile of rotten vegetables and we found one of the original line up of Onslaught at the bottom. We were trying to shift a old garden gnome tudder day when all of a sudden it woke up - turned out to be that guy from Hacksaw, blimey he wern't happy that we woke him.

We had considered going more folky as we get older - but no! We have created this album in honour of the Westcountry Cider Punk scene,you will hear plenty of new cider punk anthems as well as stories of the olden times when cider was stored down the park er else yer Mum would drink it when you got home, of adventures off to brave new lands such as Kingswood High Street or Bedminster where you'd risk hoards of local tribes chopping yer head off and using it as a football. There be some salty songs of the sea, some of the fields and orchards too. So when you listens to this, turnip up loud and get thy dancing boots on, get in the pasties and invite round the neighbours, let the party begin and dance like lunatics! We all bin locked up fer too long! See ya all down the allotment!

Jamer - Gits/banjo/vox
Titch - Bass/vox
Matt - Drums
Ian - Accordian
Randy Mavis - Mandolin
Mr Loco - Ultra moog, sound effects and spoons.

Recorded at Dockside Bristol 2019-20.

credits

released March 13, 2021

Surfin Turnips

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all rights reserved

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about

Surfin Turnips Bristol, UK

Lifting the cider jar since 1991ish.... weem not sure.

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