Happy Accidents

by The Last Starfighters

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All proceeds from the sale of this album, minus the fees to bandcamp and paypal, will be donated to the Scleroderma Society.



released October 23, 2012

Recorded over a number of years in the first decade of this century in irregular sessions. Recordings took place in Derbyshire and were overseen by Robbie Newman.

They were shelved shortly after completion.

All songs by David Williams and Jamie Cattermole, except Untitled One which is by Jamie Cattermole.
All lyrics by David Williams.

The Last Starfighters were

Jamie Cattermole
David Williams
Robbie Newman


Alex Bowen
Richard Birkin
Dan Wheeler
Stephen Mansfield
Dan Johnson

Artwork by Dan Wheeler danieltwheeler.tumblr.com

Hear what Dan Wheeler and Jamie Cattermole are up to these days here cheapjazz.bandcamp.com

Hear what David Williams is spaffing out of his misery funnel here mallardthewonderdog.bandcamp.com

Hear Alex Bowen's solo material here alexbowen.bandcamp.com

This is Richard Birkin's band crashofrhinos.bandcamp.com
This is Richard Birkin emphemetry.bandcamp.com

This download includes an exclusive alternative front cover, you lucky bastards.

Thank you very much then. Bye bye now.



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The Last Starfighters Derbyshire, UK

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Track Name: A Different School
Lights on my way home
shivering yellow domes
and they lead the way every day
the hill into the town
the greens the mottled browns
that's my childhood years right there
and oh how that town
it chilled me to the bone
I never did warm up when I got home.
Years passed by like days
we went our separate ways
stupid stupid cacophony pleased me
and so another hill
a different town a different school
different faces same people more or less
and oh how that town
it chilled me to the bone
I never did warm up when I got home.
And now through speckled windows
I glance at shining candles
and my heart it skips a beat every time
and oh how I love
this shitty little city
this shitty little city is my home.
Track Name: Sure
I must stop writing love songs
they only serve to crop up in a set
reminding me of someone I should forget
and yet tonight I'm here again
on A4 lined and tired brain
tired eyes regurgitating the same
oh it's a shame, sure.
I must cut out the smoking
get a new haircut get a new job and start to run
to work each morning with my blue shorts on
forget old lovers
dust down the covers
and try to relocate my smile
what did you say? Oh, it's a shame, sure.
Track Name: Hiding Down An Alley
Hang a left then shift a right
you'll find me hiding down an alley in the middle of the night
with my heart on my sleeve
with my heart reminding you to quietly leave
now don't you think I feel the same way too?
Regrets, I've had a few
and I'm not busy right now so I'll list them all to you
first was the hour I was deflowered
in a close friend's mother's bedroom
why the hell did I allow some stupid drunk to jump some punk
some stupid kid who always thought after he did?
now don't you think I feel the same way too?
I'm trying to say I'm still in love with you
Next up the time of my foul crime
ignorance and arrogance and idiocy combined
to form a tear a make-up smear
and a distortionin that voice, that voice I no longer hear
and now it seems that all I ever do
is baby, say I'm still in love with you
Track Name: A Certain Social Something
I'm aware of what I said
I'm aware of what I did
I'm aware that I should leave right now
conversation hardly flows
when I'm gazing at my toes
hoping mumbles are deciphered
I'm aware that I'm a shit
aware you're all aware of it
aware that anywhere else would suit me fine
lately it has seemed to me
every day is a party
spent searching for an empty room to hide in
well maybe hiding could be my saviour
squat under a rock 'til everyone is in their graves, yeah
or pretend everything's okay, yeah
maybe pretending could be my saviour
if only I could half pretend that I was someone else, yeah
half someone else, yeah
Now I can smell raw meat
from across the street
must be the Chinese restaurant
I'd book a table, go to lunch
but I've got a nagging hunch
it would only make me sad
because a certain social something
makes me realise I'm nothing
when surrounded by the boozing and chat
I'd rather crawl away and hide
pretend my heart stopped and I died
then carry on being a social retard
maybe hiding could be my saviour
squat under a rock 'til everyone is in their graves, yeah
or pretend everything's okay, yeah
maybe pretending could be my saviour
if only I could half pretend that I was someone else, yeah
half someone else, yeah
Track Name: The Powercut
The lights stopped at eleven and the TV clicked to black
we mumbled complaint choruses and claimed old technology back
candles on the corners, river of brittle wax
conversations on vocations. awful choices made when we were relaxed
and it was too late to mention our uptight state of mind
had slipped into the evening like our sense of time
Three old friends from childhood gathered in the dark
sitting in a circle swapping memories and strumming guitars
then dry eyes barely moving, limbs that long since stopped
ground down like the hands of the shadowed living-room clock
was it too late to mention that all that we recalled
had long since passed like candles in the hall?
Track Name: Lonely Harold Blood
This is the tale of lonely Harold Blood
who lived his life as quietly as he could
he was a businessman, soft drinks were his trade
he manufactured cut-price lemonade
His suit was rust. his sins were lust,
bad drugs cheap booze and cigarettes
at least he listed those as his regrets
He drove around from town to town
with thirteen identical suits
he kept a loaded gun locked in the boot
of his family estate, missing the family of late
he never really liked them anyway
And after twenty years of idle driving
talking and selling when business was thriving
he drove out to his favourite little spot
a Welcome Break parking lot
took the metal from the case and fired one solitary shot
it echoed round, sound ricocheted then stopped
Lonely Harold Blood was found on Monday with the gun clasped in his hand
identified and burned away to sand
they searched his car, found the missing girl inside,
it was a shame he'd taken out her eyes
what a surprise, clichés exchanged
the quiet ones always turn out deranged
lonely Harold Blood was never any good
Track Name: Untitled Two
If you like I can move a little to the left or right, she says
he's in a daze
Autumn hum, naked hue, skin undone
then he cums
she's amazed
in three days it's been three minutes or three turns in bed
scratch her head
and so she's silently emptily unsatisfied

I don't like all this traffic, mumbles Francis as he slips inside
his one-fare ride to his job
office hours, home time slob
back to work, curse the boss,
the wife, the butcher and his son the fool,
one golden rule, he reflects
as he peels Orange texts
is remain calm and cool
in a momentary crisis or a brush with truth
don't hit the roof
close your eyes, fantasise, do anything but feel

As I stalk round this city
prowling pretty shifting so aware
of public glare
hide 'neath my hair
prepare and repair
we make plans
we may drizzle golden sugars on a slab of meat
proclaim it sweet, sour or stale,
read books, tell tall tales,
watch the news, tread on snails,
stare at hands, start up bands,
pick a team, form new plans
then recall how we've tried to remain
silently unsatisfied
Track Name: Arachnid Stations
Death march for the fragile ten thousand
ship them to an island
in a flag shrouded tomb

someone misapprehended the living
the dying, the deceased,
come let's edit the gloom

in/on TV networks
arachnid stations
those phony apparitions (apparations - cheating)
in the corner of the room

Death wish imposed on so many
by someone so empty
the proxy, the pawn

in an Empire of feared implications
not feared by a nation
busy mowin' the lawn

or glued to TV's
arachnid stations
those phony apparitions (apparations - cheating)
in the corner of the room

death wish for the nubile/fragile ten thousand
ship them to an island
ship them to their doom
Track Name: World's First Chicken-Wire Boy
I took some time to drink some drinks
I thought that it would make me smile,
it only made me think
that I can't live without you
and I'm fresh out of cigarettes
well what am I to do?

I couldn't think of the words
and when they came you were half asleep
you barely heard
now I have regrets,
that much is true
but if I can't quit cigarettes
then how can I quit you?
Track Name: A Plain Break
Run pathetic rabbit you're undone
Limp into the distance and saute in the sun
I don't want to write sad songs for you
should be a blip on my fair radar not a permanent tattoo

oil and water only separate, they can't combine
so why'd the oil waste the water's time?
Commit your crimes now honey,
I'll commit mine
or maybe go out of my head
in a bar 'til I'm dead

You said you couldn't see where it could go
I said the bedroom's far enough
you said I don't think so
what you lack is an ambition and a goal
what I lack in intuition I make up for with blind hope

maybe Saturday could bring a smile
or a hug or a kiss
from chapped and chattering
winter weathered lips
Well, I guess not and so I have been led
to go out of my head
spinning round in my bed

A cigarette break stumbles blindly into a plain break
went grinning like an imbecile, left like I'd been to a wake

and did you have to wear such pretty clothing
as you struck the final blow
or assume that I don't know shit about clothes?
You're right, now I don't know shit about you
nothing left now to do
so I'll go out of my head
out of my head instead