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Bad Times
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songwriter musician undercover 404 john rl hunter john hunter paul moore shadow of the gun rupert hine rainbow warrior
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After spending some time in Australia backpacking with Paul and getting a lot of positive feedback from the few demos that we had we decided to return to Enland and start recording as 404 a new demo of 5 songs. "Give All You Got" "Something I Need". "Revved Up" "Let Me Go" and "I Don't Want To Talk". The demo gained the attention of Rupert Hine a major record producer who has worked with Tina Turner Stevie Nicks, Chris DeBurgh etc. In his letter he wrote that he "was beginning to feel that interesting tape from writers in this company without a record deal or indead with a record deal was becoming a rare phenomenon." We had a recording contract with BMG Records (USA) within six months. but due to Rupert's other commitments and our manager's conflicting interests our album that we were in the final stages of recording at Metropolis Recording Studios was never completed before the change of management at BMG. We were told that a 3rd of artists signed to BMG where dropped in a cost cutting exercise and 404 were part of this. 404 ended soon after. However the songs didn't visit www.johnrlhunter.co.uk
Song Info
Genre
Pop Trap-Pop
Charts
#12,910 today Peak #197
#713 in subgenre Peak #25
Author
john hunter
Rights
1990
Uploaded
July 28, 2007
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.4 MB 128 kbps 3:45
Lyrics
Bad Times ©1990 Words & Music by John Hunter Verse One Born in the bad times, here you can't choose sides. We walk on a thin line, trying not to really shine. We war with our own side, both think that we're right. We live on the dark side, where truth is a white lie, here in these bad times. Verse Two Soldiers sent to take command, from people who don't understand. Some people ask for them to stay, while others throw them their grenades. It's hard to tell just who's a friend, will these dangerous times, just never end. There's suspicion in the air we breath, these freedom songs are no relief, here in these bad times. Verse Three The money comes from far away, to some they call it foreign aid. It buys the bombs that fuel hate, our many thanks to all that pay. There's murder in the homeland, the truth is hard to understand. Let's sit down and we'll drink some beer and maybe they will disappear, here in these bad times.
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