Half Cut

by The Jollars

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The Jollars debut album, released on Aggrobeat Records aggrobeat.jimdo.com


released April 15, 2016

All songs by the Jollars. Recorded, mixed and mastered by Stephen Dwane 2014-2015 at Big Skins studios and Steve's house in Dublin. Front cover art by Inkie Skyes. Back cover art by John Coughlan. Photography by Mercy Kellikidis. Layout by Mercy Kellikidis. Logo design by Chris Reilly and the Jollars.



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The Jollars Ireland

The Jollars- 3 piece Oi! band hailing from Cork City, Ireland

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Track Name: Rebel Bootboys
For the skins from the Blackpool flats
Mess with them you're under attack
Mayfield crew just the same
Different generation, same old game

Always outnumbered, never outgunned
And when the aggro starts, we will never run

Scooters on show down the Grand Parade
Mods would be stupid if they stayed
Strutting their stuff on Daunt Square
Wouldn't be advised to stop and stare

Rebel by name, rebel by nature
Mess with them they'll fuckin bate ya
Cork city bootboys, fight to survive
Cork city bootboys, still alive!
Track Name: Mayo's Finest
You're Mayo's biggest export, an ignorant country guard
A sack of shit and blubber with a face like a slapped arse
You wish you'd been in the Heavy Gang, doling out the beatings
You got the heavy part down right, God knows what you've been eating
You like to put the hurt on those who don't do what you say
Used to beat the wife as well until she got away

Big guard – big gob – you love acting the knob
You think – you're hard – but you're made out of lard
Your time – will come – when it does you better run
Big guard – big gob – you love acting the knob

You are a sad old bastard who everybody hates
Even the other coppers call you “piggy no mates”
You like pushing women around both half and twice your age
If there was any justice you'd be locked up in a cage
It's easy to be a hard man when the state has got your back
Some night sometime, just you and me, I'd love to have a crack

There's far more than him that's wrong with the so called justice system
An institution that's diseased and he is just a symptom
Laws are made for the powerful and not for me and you
And we learn soon enough to fear the thug army in blue
Track Name: Wrathclyde
Firstly sir, don't lie to us, or we'll stich you up – no bruises, no fucking cuts
Jack boots, shaved head, tatooed skin, don't mess with us 'cause you won't win
You've got an Irish tag on your case; gives me cause to discriminate
We've the right to do what we choose answer us back son and you will lose

'Cause you look like a hooligan, you look like a thug
And no-one's gonna question me if we make you look a mug
And if you ask me why it's as true as I stand
I do it to feel bigger and I do it 'cause I can

Now then sir, what does this mean? There's no way thats a German football team!
Expect us to believe that stands for reggae as well? You're looking to spend the night in a Glasgow cell!
Well now sir, your arse must be on fire and once you're inside it'll be up for hire
We've the right to do what we choose answer us back son and you will lose

So you think you're hard, you think you're smart, you think you're some kind of upstart
Think you're cool and you think you're mean, well I'm a part of the machine
'Cause I'm the law and I've the right to drag you in day or night
These are my streets and I'm the king don't mess me son cause I'm right wing
Track Name: Hang Em High
You controlled this country for many long dark years
You maintained an empire built on shame and fear
You were the moral authority, telling us about right and wrong
I can't believe the irony,lokk at what was going on

For all your talk of morals you were the ones without them
You can stuff your sermons now 'cause no-one gives a fuck about them

Slave labour in the Magdalenes, abuses in religious schools
How could an entire country have been taken for fools
Of course you had your allies in the law and politics
Who let you abuse your power, well it makes my stomach sick

There should be a reckoning, make the Catholic clergy swing
Line them up against the wall, and everyone responsible

Mumble weak apologies to your victims in defense
Refuse to do the decent thing and offer recompense
I know if I had my way I would take your last cent
And give it to those people, I'm sure you'd then repent

You claimed the keys for Heaven and the keys for Hell below
If Heaven's full of you lot, I know where I'd rather go
You were getting away with raping little kids
And telling ordinary people to be ashamed for what they did
“It's a sin to have sex if you're not married, it's worse if you are Gay”
But systematically abusing children in your eyes is ok...
Track Name: The Fight
Another talking head on the TV, a commentator on the radio
Selling their bullshit to you and me,telling us how it's got to go
Making out we're in the same boat, share the pain was always such bullshsit
Its the working class that always have to pay, ruling class dont suffer a bit

The wealthy are protected while the rest of us take the pain
Supporting a system that doesn't support us and if we take it we must be insane

We have always had to fight for all of the things we know should be ours by right
Job security, any decent pay, social welfare or the eight hour day

Living in the age of austerity they tell us there's no other way
Public resources for private gain its not our debt and we won't pay
Tax the roof over your head, tax the water out of your tap
Putting the burden on the ordinary folk, just tax the rich cunts and cut the crap

The times the bosses win are the times we're too afraid
The times the bosses back down are the times that they are made
And I don't know about you but I've heard as musch as I want to listen to
Until the rule of the rich is through we'll have to do what we always do
Track Name: We're Not Leaving
You know you're not the first, and you won't be the last
An entire generation forced to emigrate en masse
Been told that the grass is greener on the other side
But you know that you've been taken, taken for a ride

Push 'em, shove 'em, tell 'em where to go
Anywhere but here, we don't wanna know
Push 'em, shove 'em, know they're gonna crack
Bring 'em to the ports and stab 'em in the back
Push 'em, shove 'em, nothing for you here
Make 'em feel worthless, fill 'em full of fear
Push 'em shove 'em, never to return
Another generation who've been burned

We've heard it all before, how we're to blame
How we should all just hang our heads in shame
Standing there with hands outstretched
Nothing but a pauper, a horrible wretch

In the depths of despair, growing suicide rates
They try to misdirect, to misdirect our hate
To the migrant workers, and our own class too
But I point the finger of blame, it's pointing squarely at you

They say I dreamt too tall
When I hardly dreamt at all
Say I speculated too much
I never did anything such
They say I borrowed too big, make me out to be a greedy pig
Say I'm stepping out of line when I try to get, get what's mine
Track Name: The Gone Offie
Not a lot in your pockets, just some lint and a couple of bits
Not enough for a night on the town but you're in the form to get off your tits
So off we go down the hill, past the Sin È and the Uptown Grill
This part of town may be dark and dank
But that's where we go when we wanna get tanked

Your arse a bit dodgy, your guts a bit sore
But you were out of your mind for under a score

At the Gone Offie – if you're not picky stick your head in the trough
At the Gone Offie – go in with a twenty you can drink your head off

It's the morning after the night before, all you're after is the fucking cure
Just the one would nearly do the job but you can get six for a couple more bob
Before you know, back to square one, the craic is 90 having loads of fun
Drinkin on a budget is as easy as this – just hit the Gone Offie for a rake of cheap piss!

Cheap gat – how bad? It's gone off? We'll be grand!
Foreign booze, out of date; cheap as chips, it's fucking great!

I've drank in many cities, drank in many towns
Been to many offies, you know I like to shop around
Since I'm in Cork city, the most one I've frequented
Has been the Abbott's (gone off) Ale House, it's where I go to get demented
Track Name: Tommy No Bobs
I've no meas, I've no class
Haven't got the cash to cover my ass
It's all just smoke and mirrors
Rubbing shoulders and high end dinners
Filling up the champagne flutes
Little do they know that I've no loot
Got me hands in pies all over the place
Should have P.D wanker tattoed on my face

It's amazing how far you'll get with a swanky suit and some bouncing cheques
Don't you know that a wink is as good, a wink is as good as a nod to Tommy No Bobs

They're after me, the you know who, the taxman, the fucking revenue
They're after me but it'll be some land, 'cause in my pockets I've only my hands
I've always tried to make a quick buck
But it's all gone wrong now I'm royally fucked
My mate Billy will get me back on me feet
'Cause cunts like us, we're always elite
Track Name: The Oi! Father
Raise a glass to J.J
Who takes all my money on payday
For a pint of plain, a pint of stout
To calm your worries, calm your doubt
Generations before have done it you see
Knocked back the stout thats brewed by the Lee
So raise your glass, sink the brew
You're one of our own Cork City Crew

Our Stout, it's made in Heaven
Murphy's is your name
If Beamish comes we'll drink it all the one
Puts that Guinness muck to shame
Lead us all into temptation
Deliver us from thirst
Tomorrow morn we'll wish we weren't born
But we'll get the pints in first

Arthur's day is such a waste of time
1000's of people standing in line
Say cheers to the advert at 6 o' clock
But by that time we're already locked
At closing time we're in an awful state
Wouldn't take a piss on St. James' Gate
So raise your glass sink the brew
You're one of our own O'Murchu
Track Name: Thick Like Me
He's just an ignorant cunt

Well I was smoking outside the pub one night, having a chat to this lad
And I was getting on grand with him until he said something that made me mad
He said he didn't like those who weren't Irish and he didn't like those who weren't white
Well I don't like ignorant wankers so I told him he was full of shite

“Made a racist comment but you didn't agree, oh shit I thought you were thick like me!”
Thought he was safe being an ignorant bastard
Started talking shit about immigrants, didn't realise that I'd take offense
It's not his fault, he's just an ignorant cunt

Well he soon realised that he made a mistake, could have been the boots and braces
He didn't know what a real skinhead was, thought he was talking to a fellow racist
But I have no time for that shit at all, I told him what I thought of his muck
Told him he should go and get his ginger head checked before it got kicked to fuck
Track Name: Terraced Heaven
CITY! REBELS! Let's go!

It was the place for all the shams to go, gatting vodka and taking yokes
Chanting, fighting, getting the score, most of the time ending up on the floor

'Cause ya stood there since the age of seven with your boots and braces in a terraced heaven
Plastic seats are there instead, the spirit of the shed, nearly dead – Oi, Oi!

The older boys have had their day, now it's the time to have our say
Work like dogs all week long, but next week the shed'll be gone

Tried to make us sit like knobs, we'll always be Cork City yobs
End of the week, our frustration, will be reported to the fucking nation

You can't hide us we're here to stay, you can't hide us not going away
We'll stick together, proud and true, middle finger salute just for you

We'll hunt Coughlan out