Dial 112

uploaded: Sun, Dec 28, 2025 @ 10:47 PM last modified: Wed, Jan 7, 2026 @ 10:33 PM (replace)

by	coruscate
length	2:39
BPM	97
Recommends	Recommends (1)

There are two main acapellas because I had trouble controlling a few syllables.

Blend them together.

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“112” is “911” outside of America. I’ve never had to dial it, but it fit. Originally written to a Yung Nab beat, he’s out in Africa.

I’ve been watching a lot of “Scottish Mythology Explained” with actor Kenny Boyle.

So here’s the explanation:

Lucken Hare - The place in Scotland the army of Sith sleep, waiting to wake up to free Scotland
Sith - Not a Jedi thing. Fairies. And not the small and cute kind.
Cú Chulainn - Irish Hercules
Thomas The Rhymer - A Scottish leader who lived but also the subject of many myths

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The Scratchapella comes from TexasRadioFish as well as “American Adventure, Dial Emergency” which has to be in the public domain. There’s no record of it in the copyright database, and it was produced by a university at a time when radio shows had a limited copyright, and that had to be renewed. Very few did, and this is show is so UGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH… it’s one long, annoying phone call.

But I got some scratches out of it.

Further proof is it’s all over place on-line including Amazon.
Old Time Radio Downloads.

As for the TexasRadioFish sample I have used the heck out of that thing LOL

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Dial one one, two for Kou or Coru
Whatcha gonna do ain’t gonna bore you
Two on the floor we always got more beau
To support you we though to reward who

Moving their heads when the Orchestra plays
Scorchin and torchin til orchids are laid
Going to grab this mic rap and get lucid
Bound to excite cuz Nab produced it

Total chaos, Mass confusion
Mess with me boy, get your ass a bruising
Blasted for choosing uselessly losing
Reducing you like nuclear fusion

Audio mathematics blistered mechanics
Gone Chernobly not hopeful for antics
Fuck the semnatics Mantronix twist
Where electronic bop and hip hop mix

BRIDGE

Adjusting the nobs in the control booth
Turning the tide cuz my soul is so smooth
Not rude or prudish I drop my f bombs sparingly
varying new degrees of vocabulary daringly

Whereas flattery jabs and verbal battery rasp
beyond your graps you’re not up to the task
Not up to par, come up short in a far run
Caution verbals smoke you to carbon

Daft bloke beg ya pardon got the luck the dare
Beat you over the ocean back to the Lucken Hare
Get your ass jumped by Sith sleeping there
Mary Queen of Scots scoffs with a glare

I’m Cú Chulainn with a poetic bomb
That’ll burn your face like a round of napalm
Dial emergency you’ll need paramedics
Not Thomas the Rhymer but I’m prophetic