Don’t Feed The Beggars


Album: Paris-Stockholm
Released: 12/06/1999
Recorded at Airplay Studios and Park Studio, Stockholm, Sept 95 – May 1999
Engineer: Niklas Sjöberg
Mastering: Mia Lorentzson, at Polar Studios, Stockholm
Songs by: Bo Christo Schager
Cover photo: Nina Tallec


Stellan Wahlström: Drums
Bo Christo: Woodwind, vocals
Jochum Forsell: Electric guitar, tambourine
Johan Werner: Bass
Joe Welford: Vocals
Stephanie Belsey: Vocals
Arvid Krantz: Electric guitar

Pick parents wisely
Wear an education
Help useful people
Cultivate relations

R.E.M. sleep
Light decaf breakfast
Listen to your heart
(Follow your brain)

Fluent in French
Sundays in torpor
Grow healthy habits
And don’t feed the beggars

Marry the right one
Go call your mother
Buy a nice pajamas
And don’t feed the beggars

Tables and chairs are friendly creatures
The future is for beginners
Two religions makes a third
Three religions makes the first
The past is the real thing
No one has met William Shakespeare
Let the pupils be the teachers
Starvation is a way of living

Tall trees got better view than short trees
Some books burn better than others
Some people got better views than others
Money should be sold for half price
Armies should always fight together, on the same side
Don’t forget to die
Those who go first get the best seats


One day she woke up
One leg before the other
And said to herself:
Maybe they’re right
Maybe it’s one woman for herself
Maybe it’s one race for itself
Maybe it’s one nation for itself
Maybe one religion is the right
Yes maybe their is the right one
Maybe the fatwa is actually sanctioned by god
Maybe it did rain fishes
And what if Jehovah’s Witnesses are right
And Darwin wrong?
We’ll share beds with the veggie lions in paradise on earth
(But only the good lions can join, of course,
those that are baptized and never been to a discothèque)
And she said to herself:
What if the rope is needed
To put out the evil in this world
The sword mightier than the word?
Maybe love it’s just a four letter word
Like bull
Like shit

And she went to work that day
With a new look on her face
Her old eyes replaced
With a set of newly picked, plucked ones
And the cars on the street seemed smaller
Not so dangerous
The buildings seemed pygmefied
And she was no longer afraid
Of crossing the park
On her way home

And when she got home
(Left the door unlocked)
Made herself a large nice sandwich
With penguin oil
And mushrooms on top
Opened a bottle of red wine
And sat down by the fire
With her memories
With photographs from her childhood
Large buildings
And evil cars
And she sat there in silence
Long after the fire was out
In the darkness
In silence

Then finally she got up
Pulled that curtain down
And went to sleep