Ladies and gentlemen, Raised By Owls presents The Great British Grind Off. Men stand your ground. Today we will grind, we will grind for our lives. A battle royal. A fight to see who’s best, a fight till the death. Pick up your axe son, show them the grind. I want you to grind them out of their minds. Do father proud by splitting some skulls. Conquer what is now deemed impossible. Here waits thy fate. Face the jeering crowd, so obnoxiously loud. They bay for blood. Time to prove your worth, show your attributes. The battle begins, you’re out of your depths. What lies in store, what is coming next? Failure or fortune, a mystery. The battle roars on for an eternity. When the dust settles will you arise? Passing the carnage and forward to the skies. Will you grind supreme? Will you grind supreme? Will you grind supreme? Will you grind supreme?

A blonde-haired killing machine, forced to slaughter through baking inadequacy. Don’t burn your cake! You’ve been Mary fucking buried.

Out from the pier they hear it, the howl, hard not to fear it. The hairs they feel them stand, their time is up – they should have ran. Impending doom is coming, beneath the moon that’s brightly glowing. The wolf it has no mercy, its yearn for blood – it’s always thirsty. This curse is ancient, passed down from generations. This town has no salvation, a plague upon this bastard nation. The moon does rise, the air is filled with their cries. Human mutation; this feast, bloodthirsty masturbation. This town they know its fate for which they provide bait. Young foolish naïve teens left to do as they fucking please. Unaware they’re sitting ducks, one by one close to being plucked. They’ve strayed too far from land, soon to shake the reapers hand. This curse is ancient, passed down from generations. This town has no salvation, a plague upon this bastard nation. The moon does rise, the air is filled with their cries. Human mutation; this feast, bloodthirsty masturbation. The man who hides beneath the fur and claws, his identity remains unknown. Cowering beneath the guilt of lycanthropic sin, so sworn to secrecy; the beast within. Remains of flesh and bone scatter this baron campsite. Blood sprays and loose intestines spread across the murky sand. As the sun does rise the locals come out from their shelter, they clean the debris from the carnage and march onwards with their lives. Until the next full moon…

Ainsley Harriot advises you to give your meat a good ol’ rub. Hot spicy meat! Ainsley Harriot advises you to give your meat a good ol’ rub. Hot spicy meat! Hot and spicy! Innuendo. Hot and spicy! Sounds like wanking. Hot and spicy! Innuendo. Hot and spicy! Ready, Steady, Cock! Ainsley Harriot advises you to give your meat a good ol’ rub. Hot spicy meat! Ainsley Harriot advises you to give your meat a good ol’ rub. Hot spicy meat! That’s it, nice and hot! Yeah-heh-eah bwoiiii!

Oh Dear, Its happening again and again. I’m starting to feel this is becoming a trend. Oh Dear, I can’t feel my face or my legs. Headaches, hot sweats, and vomit down my chest. The weekend is here, the narcotics they do call. My bodies in bits and my heads up the wall. Oh Dear, the room it is spinning again. The sky is deep purple and the floor is hot red. Oh Dear, reality is frayed at the seams. Paul’s had his moustache for an eternity. Distorted visions, palpitations, nearby sirens – paranoia! Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear Oh Dear. Melted faces, demon voices, always making poor life choices! Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear Oh Dear. Club lights flash, the rhythm hits, weird kebab, I’ve got the shits! Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear Oh Dear. Help me lord, I’m on my knees, Paul and Barry save me please! Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear, Oh Dear Oh Dear. The weekend is here, the narcotics they do call. My bodies in bits and my heads up the wall. Pass the bong it’s time to get rekt. Pass the bong, to me to you. Pass the pipe it’s time to get rekt. Pass the pipe, to me to you. Pass the pills it’s time to get rekt. Pass the pills, to me to you. Pass the needle time to get rekt. Pass the needle, me to you.

OFF TO THE PUB! I work all day, I work all night, I slave away. Friday comes, an end in sight, its pay day. Rip my shirt off, let my hair down, time to play. The shops all locked, its 5 o’clock, sanity will fray. I will meet you at the bottom of the bottle. Just let me sink, I would quite like to drown here. I will meet you at the bottom of the bottle. Just let me sink, I would quite like to drown here. Raise up this pint like a sword. Bring on whatever may come forth. Spirits; are they friend or foe? Time will tell – only you shall know. Take this chance, have a dance, 80’s school disco. Shoot some darts, play some pool, show the youth you’re cool. Nobby’s nuts, pet the mutt, smash the quiz machine. Busty barmaid, Johnny machine, you know what I mean? I will meet you at the bottom of the bottle. Just let me sink, I would quite like to drown here. I will meet you at the bottom of the bottle. Just let me sink, I would quite like to drown here. This is it, the time we all dread: “Last orders at the bar!” This liquor flows through our veins. Intoxication helps numb the pain. Consciousness is far from my abode and this sweet nectar helps warm my bones. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to work, Im off to the pub! I don’t want to think, I don’t want to work, Im off to the pub! I don’t want to think, I don’t want to work, Im off to the pub! I don’t want to think, I don’t want to work, Im off to the pub!

Tonight, my minions, sons and daughters of the northern darkness. Gather around thy alter and chant to our lord Lucifer. Show contempt to all the non-believers. Their place of worship, burn it to the ground. We are the disciples of our dark lord. Drape the robes atop your naked body. Take this blade and part your fucking flesh! Clutch this chalice and take a sip of the virgins blood. Initiation ritual has begun. Follow my commands, for I am your preacher. Denial will send you into the abyss. We are the disciples of our dark lord, We are devout followers of Lucifer!

The shadows he does roam, on the dim lit streets of London town. He’s stalking his prey, ready to feast on an innocent’s neck. Their pulsing veins, split with his fangs – their blood, he drains! Pierced flesh, blood flows, into the darkness their soul goes. Oh, Sweet Vampirism. On the high chair he does sit, modifying conduct as he sees fit. Mayor by day, Dark Lord by night. A heinous creature hidden in plain sight. His thirst for blood cannot be quenched. This city is ruled by the undead. Close your curtains, lock your doors. Awake all night with bated breath, an unrelenting fear of impending death. White pasty complexion can no longer withstand the light of day. The beast awakens, daylight now seems such a distant past. At nightfall he rides, listen out for his resounding laugh. On his bike he does now ride, countless bodies he’s had to hide. Rivers of blood that have been spilt, remorseless face shall show no guilt. The evil one who walks among us, calls himself the Mayor of London. His Thirst for blood cannot be quenched. This city is ruled by the undead. Boris Johnson, Lord Vampire. As the moon does rise he shall take flight, across this city on his Boris bike. The Shadows he does roam, on the dim lit streets of London town. By one name he is known; Dark Lord Boris Johnson, Vampire of London.

Hold your horses! Hold your horses! We’re quite flattered but zip up your trousers. Years of acclaim ruined by a twisted obsession. Bill this has to end but yes, we’ll remain friends. We’re glad you like our band but this madness is hard to comprehend. Our posters on your wall. No, we don’t want to see your balls. Spring Watch is a great show and yes, we’ll cameo. We know you look like our drummer Lee. Please get your genitals away from me. Hold your horses! Hold your horses! William Edgar Oddie, I’m not a bird, stop watching me! Bill, we didn’t want it to come to this but I’m afraid this restraining orders for you.

Scary Spice has a gangrenous arm, Scary Spice has a gangrenous arm. I tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I really want an amputation.

I’m crippled by debt.

Rotting from the inside out. My name is Rot Stewart and this is what I’m about. Putrid, I am fodder for the grave. Expiration, praise death I am his slave. Rot. Ruination, the worms feed of my corpse. Decomposition, this dirt I call my home. Wake up Maggie I got something to say to you.

Whose jizz is that? And what the hell is that smell? Where the flip is the exit? Whose finger is stroking my prostate? I have seen some terrible things across my journey in this life. But this takes the piss, BBC won’t have this. I do need the money, I should have just done Big Brother. I’m gonna be sick! I’ve seen Phil Mitchell’s scrot rot. I’m gonna be sick! I’ve seen Pat Butchers phat minge.

Enter my nan's bungalow, my mouth is dry as sand. My thirst needs to be quenched, I need a beverage of the steaming hot kind. Aww nan, put the kettle on, I need a cup of tea. My mouth is so dry, give it to me! Nan put the kettle on and while you’re at it get the hob-nobs. I yearn for this glorious liquid to be brought forth and graced upon my lips. Aww nan, you better get those Hob-Nobs, can’t wait to tuck into those bad boys. Dip them into my tea, radical! A lovely cup of tea, my nan made for me. A lovely cup of tea, what a glorious treat. A lovely cup of tea, my nan made for me. A lovely cup of tea, what a glorious treat. Do you take sugar? One lump or two? Do you take sugar? One lump or two? A lovely cup of tea, my nan made for me. A lovely cup of tea, what a glorious treat. A lovely cup of tea, my nan made for me. A lovely cup of tea, what a glorious treat.

David nobbed a pig.

The aroma fills my nostrils, smells so divine, it’s intoxicating. My erection prods my trousers. My mouth so moist, I can almost taste it. My knees are weak and my stomach is empty. A smile across my face, my delight cannot be contained. Grab my plate, grab my napkin, I am ready for this feast. I shall devour all that comes before me, annihilate the entirety. Dinner is served, the veg is steaming. The meat is beastly, the Yorkshire puddings gleaming. And here it comes, the fucking gravy, pour it all over, Smother it, baby!

What’s taking so long? I hate this queue but without it chaos would reign. Form an orderly line. Please, form an orderly line. I hate this queue but without it chaos would reign.

I don’t want to cause a fuss! I don’t want to cause a fuss! I’m so sorry even though it’s you that’s in the wrong. You see, deep down within me I know that I should just confront you, but I know I won’t, cos I don’t want the hassle. It’s not worth the grief. No, it’s not worth the grief. It’s not worth the grief and I’ve got enough on my plate to be dealing with. Hotel has mould, my foods gone cold, I don’t want to cause a fuss! Rejected card, the wife’s in a mard, I don’t want to cause a fuss! Pay cuts at work, loud neighbours a berk, I don’t want to cause a fuss! Someone’s burnt my house down and killed my kids, I don’t want to cause a fuss! I don’t want to cause a fuss! I don’t want to cause a fuss! I don’t want to cause a fuss! I don’t want to cause a fuss!

Oh, the moonlight cuts through the clouds so bright tonight. As it shines down upon the graveyard, a great evil stands in plain sight. This shrouded figure levitates over frost, chanting the names of those whom are long lost. In the left-hand a book and the right one a blade, summon an army – resurrect and enslave. A spirit appears. A female draped in white. A request; her soul to be free, from this pitch black eternity. The earth it trembles, a bellowing wind blows through the air. Hands start to rise from beneath the soil, their mortal shell shall be used for warfare. The undead will rise and they will be controlled, his astounding power has begun to unfold. The darkness will spread all throughout this here land, mere mortals shall worship and obey his commands. A necromancer intent on evoking bedlam. The deceased he manipulates. Humanity will begin to stagnate. Brucey is the undying. He has learnt the path to the secret of immortality. Dare to stand in his way you shall witness the intense force of a malevolent hex. Nice to see you to see you dead! Nice to see you to see you dead! Nice to see you to see you dead! Nice to see you to see you dead! He’s claimed this mortal realm. He’s twisted this world into hell. His power you cannot deny, the Dark Master he reigns: Lord Bruce Forsyth! Nice to see you to see you dead! Nice to see you to see you dead!

The desire overwhelms me, I can’t take my mind of this heavenly feast. The heat stimulates me, the question I face; gravy or mushy peas? The allure from the counter, the stench it intoxicates. The allure from the counter, the taste it invigorates. Celestial devourment! The newspaper wrappings, the salt & the vinegar. Celestial devourment! Ov fish and the chips, a feast for the kings. Go Large! Go Large! Go Large!

Tonight it will happen again, it’s happened before – will this night ever end? Tonight it will happen again, the perfect murder will transcend. Taken to the moors, searching for a glove. The hunt it soon will end. The dirt, your new found friend. Sexual assault, a slit across your throat. This lace around the neck, asphyxiated death. You will drive this van around the neighbourhood until I find a victim, when I do Ill flash you down. (flash you down) Use your charm to lure them in and make them feel at ease, Once you’ve got them hooked, reel them in and I will seal the deal. Tonight, it will happen again, Im not alone in this madness – Evil comes in pairs. Infatuated, the ideas we both share. This love has become a haze, my thoughts are impaired. Taken to the moors, searching for a glove. The hunt it soon will end. The dirt, your new found friend. Sexual assault, a slit across your throat. This lace around the neck, asphyxiated death. Callous! Vile! Massacre! Take this knife to the throat. Heinous! Vicious! Slaughter! A grave out upon the moors. Sexual assault, a slit across your throat. This lace around the neck, asphyxiated death. Hindley!

Come join the feast, we shall dine like it’s the last night of our lives. Through the great hall, laughter echoed – tales of slaughter, tales of gore. Spilt the wine like we spilt the blood. Countless men we have sent to die. Take your goblets, lift them higher – raise a toast up towards the sky. Can you smell the burning flesh from the men tied to the stake? His lordship’s smug expression, sitting firmly on the throne. Reminiscing former glories, take a sip from this cup of bones. Endless honours, endless praise - Well concealed, his wicked ways. Those whom dared, questioned his guile; They will soon meet the grave! From dusk till dawn he does slay, a bloodbath left in his wake. The men who cursed on his name, Inside a crypt their corpse lays. His madness is contagious, his acts vile and outrageous. His presence so tenacious, take his oath of blasphemation. Cliff Richard drinks from the skulls of his enemies, a cup solely made out of human cranium. Please toast a severed head to all the traitorous bastards. May they forever be engulfed by hell’s flames. A sword is plunged through the head and afterwards it cuts the neck. Brain removal, flesh is flayed. Dregs of carcass, tossed away. Hollowed out and clean the innards. The Removal of the slime. Take a blade and carve the cap off, the remains are filled with wine. From dusk till dawn he does slay, a bloodbath left in his wake. The men who cursed on his name, Inside a crypt their corpse lays. His madness is contagious, his acts vile and outrageous. His presence so tenacious, take his oath of blasphemation. Cliff Richard drinks from the skulls of his enemies, a cup solely made out of human cranium. Please toast a severed head to all the traitorous bastards. May they forever be engulfed by hell’s flames. This pearly white mask, that is worn day in day out. It’s a phantom, it’s a phantom, it’s hidden in plain sight. A wolf in sheep’s clothes, nobody suspects a man of the God. Nobody suspects, nobody suspects a man of God. What dwells beneath is vicious, so vicious, so evil. A darkness so heinous, it’s power is devastating. You don’t make 100 albums without making a few enemies. You don’t make 100 albums without making a few enemies. Cliff Richard drinks from the skulls of his enemies, a cup solely made out of human cranium. Please toast a severed head to all the traitorous bastards. May they forever be engulfed by hell’s flames. Please toast a severed head to all the traitorous bastards. May they forever be engulfed by hell’s flames.