Top Songs By Tom McLeod
![Listen to Scream Into The Void (Gloria's Version) [feat. Marshayla Christie & Tom McLeod] by Luke Di Somma, see lyrics, music video & more!](/mkimage/image/thumb/Music221/v4/75/85/6d/75856d2d-f0fe-c81b-fa60-a52b61732765/199350808098.jpg/375x375bb.webp "Listen to Scream Into The Void (Gloria's Version) [feat. Marshayla Christie & Tom McLeod] by Luke Di Somma, see lyrics, music video & more!")
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Tom McLeod
Lead Vocals
Glenn Colquhoun
Spoken Word
Lisa Tomlins
Background Vocals
Kirsten Te Rito
Background Vocals
Emanuel Psathas
Lead Vocals
Age Pryor
Electric Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tom McLeod
Songwriter
Glenn Colquhoun
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tom McLeod
Producer
Sarah Lineham
Associate Producer
Tom Broome
Mixing Engineer
Chris Chetland
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Little Johnny,
you look ill.
Could I offer you a pill?
Take it with
a bowl of soup,
hair of dog,
eye of newt.
Side effects
include remorse,
alopecia,
guilt, divorce.
Above all else,
this one instruction
guarantees no
loss of function.
Lean in now,
let's click the ticket.
Blink and you will
barely miss it.
Quickly now
I need to whisper.
Stop right there.
That's 15 minutes.
15 minutes
Mrs Murray, how are you?
(15 minutes)
I like your hair.
I like your shoes.
(15 minutes)
What's the problem?
What to do?
(15 minutes)
Impetigo?
Feeling blue?
Hmm
Mmm hmm
Sorry to hear that Mrs Murray
Tell me
Got a cough?
Got a cold?
Your lumbago?
Getting old?
Lost your marbles?
Iron low?
Borborygmi?
Getting slow?
Just as well you've
come to see me.
Who knows where
all this will lead to?
Just one thing
at the beginning.
Stop right there.
That's 15 minutes.
Oh my God, what are you doing?
Oh I was just wondering?
Are you asking me another question?
Post traumatic stress disorder,
Jesus Christ, I can't pass water
Broken heart? Broken toe?
Fit them in the space below.
See that girl,
her head's in a whirl,
upside-down,
it's spinning round and round,
telling you,
what she's not telling you,
what's up, doc?
Forget the fucking clock.
Jesus Christ, now how's the Mrs?
Hear you've lost your holy stiffness.
What's the matter, step inside.
Hmm, looks nasty, open wide.
There, inside your holy innards,
suffocating weight of sinners.
Best to fix that before dinner.
Can't right now, that's 15 minutes.
Dunk you in my tea and biscuits.
Eucharist and all that business.
Which of these have greater powers
than the Lord of Quarter-Hours?
15 minutes
Mrs Murray, you again?
(15 minutes)
How's the weather?
How's the pain?
(15 minutes)
What's the problem?
What to say?
(15 minutes)
Indigestion?
Looks like rain
I love to have
these little chats.
That will be
enough of that.
Meningitis.
Blepharitis.
Gingivitis.
Cellulitis.
Sinusitis.
Balanitis.
Prostatitis.
Myositis.
Carpel tunnel,
it's a juggle.
Boy in bubble?
Could be trouble.
Carcinoma.
Teratoma.
Beer and coma.
Leaky stoma.
See that man,
he's never been that sad,
understand,
he's watching where you're at.
Wants to know,
all your Hello, hello.'
Yes or no?
Do you even give a damn?
See that girl,
her head is in a whirl,
upside-down
it's spinning round and round,
telling you,
what she's not telling you,
what's up, doc?
Forget the fucking clock
15 minutes
15 minutes
15 minutes
15 minutes
I feel sad.
There's no time for that.
I can't sleep.
Take your pills.
I have a cough.
Stop smoking.
I have an itch.
Scratch it.
Oh my God, what are you doing?
Are you asking me another question?
Don't you know you can only ask one question every 15 minutes?
I'll tell you what the problem is.
You're too poor to be sick.
The following you can afford,
Mozzie bite, or knock on door.
Blood pressures have just gone up
What?
By another fifty bucks.
Ouch!
You should know I can't be bought.
No, no!
Conversations, add a nought.
Every sadness has its map.
Finding that is half the knack.
Who the fuck made 15 minutes
all the time there is to listen?
15 minutes
Icebergs only tip what's hidden.
15 minutes
Every sadness has its glisten.
15 minutes
I love to have these little chats.
15 minutes
But that will be enough of that.
Oh my God, what are you doing?
Oh I was just wondering?
Are you asking me another question?
Tongues out. Lungs out.
Stick your Mitts out.
Bad dream?
Poor stream?
Phlegm green?
Has been?
Can't pee?
Cold feet?
Sore knee?
On lean?
Canned meat.
Jammed meat.
Just like sardines.
(Oh my God, what are you doing?
Are you asking me another question?)
Tonsillitis.
Anthrax.
Amaurosis fugax.
Pharyngitis.
Laryngitis. .
Faciitis.
Stomatitis.
(15 minutes)
Carpel tunnel,
it's a juggle.
Boy in bubble?
Could be trouble.
(15 minutes)
Carcinoma.
Teratoma.
Beer and coma.
Leaky stoma.
Hypertension,
not to mention.
haemorrhoids,
out of the question.
Paranoia?
Get a lawyer.
Halitosis?
Try to focus.
(15 minutes)
Little Johnny, you look sad.
Mrs Murray you again?
(15 minutes)
Can I offer you an app?
How's the weather? How's the pain?
(15 minutes)
Take it with a pinch of salt,
Indigestion
(15 minutes)
Hail Mary, de-lete / alt.
Argh fuck this shit!
That's 15 minutes
Written by: Glenn Colquhoun, Tom McLeod
