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All My Fish Are Dead

by The Vega Bodegas

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about

This is our first new release in over 3 years.

It was recorded, mixed, mastered and produced by Todd Campbell at Stompbox Studio in South Wales.

lyrics

ALL MY FISH ARE DEAD


You get what you pay for.
Pool parties, smooth shins, mojito painkillers and a tin foil getaway car.
Oh, extravagant life, you give me heart burn. You make me seasick.

Now the neighbours are at it again.
Drilling and fixing things. Flamingo wallpaper and screaming radiators.
I wish my eyesight would stop playing up at key moments in my book.
What’s that you said? All my fish are dead? All my fish are dead!

Talented Krishna’s and hairy ghosts. Who’s got the gumption for all this raw action?

Slime green fish tanks and helium frogs. What did you expect? Our atoms play musical chairs with our skeletons. Nice one Tony, have a great day. Hair smells like an oil slick chump.

Do you feel better?

Even Salvador Dali had to go into marketing. His saliva on each and every chuppa chup or however you say it.
Electrical fliers, slippery staircase. Don’t cross me on the way up, I’m just here for the pit stops.

Phew.

Now the neighbours, are at it again. Drilling and fixing things. Flamingo wallpaper and screaming radiators. I wish my eyesight would stop playing up at key moments in my book.

What's that you said? All my fish are dead.

Talented Krishna’s and hairy ghosts. Who’s got the gumption for all this raw action?

I’m operating on a whole other level here. All I had was a single coffee bean and a fine diameter of sunlight. Outside on my mile high decking. Real polished pine, or is it bone. I forget. Nightmare names, and bet time shadows. Shots of dewdrops straight from the heel of my family boot.

The strange thing is. Beneath all this, I’m hope. I’m love. Daddy was a big believer. Daddy was big believer.

Daddy was a big believer.
I have no idea what in, but he sure as hell put all that focus into a floating computer or a laptop, firing emails into the hearts and souls of everyone. Except you buddy. You are spam. Or sperm. I forget which is best.
Now, forgive me while I let this tinnitus settle down. It’s awfully noisy on this carousel.

Pick a body part
Any body part. Now hold it up to the light. What do you see? Millions and millions of tiny galaxies and meteors and spewing policemen pulling wheelies on their thumb nail pick up trucks.

That’s not what you expected is it. You came out tonight for a nice time, not an experience. There’s more to life than just eating chicken, the air is thick with cortisol and air freshener. Look what we did to the Amazon. Dragging our knuckles through the mud. Ripping out the planet’s lungs, it’s no wonder we are always howling and shouting at the moon or planning on terraforming an orbiting sportsdirect, and taking our final Pret with us to the grave, so we can say nobody ever quite wore white socks like I did.

How did this all happen? Can we please undo it? All my fish are dead.

credits

released June 25, 2021
Written by The Vega Bodegas

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The Vega Bodegas Cardiff, UK

"The Vega Bodegas trip the light fantastic between surreal stand-up and unhinged rock and roll" WalesOnline

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