1. |
Commonwealth Avenue
03:28
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After I smashed through a window,
My leg bleeding out as I slept,
I realized I’d never been so happy and that it would be over soon, so I broke down and wept.
Cuz now we’re drinking on rooftops,
This absinthe is ruining my guts,
And the fact that not all of us are dead is only luck,
Shit yeah — I abide by my thrills, not my medical bills
Inhibition level’s low,
Got a long, long way to go,
Now we’re having laughs with psychopaths,
It’s all we care to know.
Now we’re blacking out at noon,
But it’ll all be over soon,
Like we were never even here.
When I look back at New Zealand,
It’s like somebody else’s life,
Off the island I can’t fight the feeling that there is a gloom in the air you could cut with a knife,
When it’s happening, you take it for granted.
I assumed I would never forget,
The Iraqi girl that made out with you for a cigarette.
But I don’t know just how to say no so,
I still go out every single night,
Upsetting my friends,
Not making amends — it’s shite.
They don’t understand my plite.
Inhibition level’s low,
Got a long, long way to go,
Now we’re having laughs with psychopaths,
It’s all we care to know.
Now we’re blacking out at noon,
But it’ll all be over soon,
Like we were never even...
Here with all of y’all, I couldn’t conceive,
Living without you, though I’ll believe,
I was incredibly naive.
Move and drift apart amicably,
Though we don’t want to, soon we’ll see,
We aren’t people upon whom one could depend,
Feeling only slightly guilty for letters we never send,
And even though we will always consider each other friends,
We won’t matter to each other in the end.
Inhibition level’s low,
Got a long, long way to go,
Now we’re having laughs with psychopaths,
It’s all we care to know.
Now we’re blacking out at noon,
But it’ll all be over soon,
Like we were never even giving up our goals,
Like we were never even punishing our souls,
Like we were never even acting like a bunch of 10-year-olds.
Like we were never in each other’s lives at all.
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2. |
Never Get Out
02:58
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3. |
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Go to the brewery to buy a beer!
Look at all the different kinds they got here:
Pilsners and sours and stouts, IPAs,
I’m gonna be bombed for a buncha days,
But I’m thirsty.
I wanna get a BEER!
But I can’t decide.
I can’t decide.
Maybe I should get a stout as thick as mud,
I’ve always said Guinness is my life blood,
But I’m bone dry,
I’m on my mission,
Yet I stand here stuck in indecision,
I’m thirsty — I wanna get a BEER!
But I can’t decide.
I can’t decide.
There’s hops that are mosaic and some hops make you aphasic,
And there’s hops that are galaxic and some hops make you ataxic,
Nelson hops are from New Zealand and they’ll make you cop a feelin’,
And I’ll drink’em from the pitcher,
But what the hell is citra?
Fresh cut grass; tangerine is on the nose,
Guava, melon, bready, malty notes; is how it goes.
Oak! Candy! Sadness! Sorrow!
If I dip into the triples, head’ll be spinning tomorrow,
I’m thirsty — I wanna get a BEER!
But I can’t decide.
I can’t decide.
Loaded the boats in 1760,
So that the suds never spoiled when they set out to sea,
You gotta hit it with hops,
Give it a week to ferment
It looks like I’ll be walking home — that shit’s 11%!
But I’m thirsty.
I wanna get a BEER!
But I can’t decide.
I can’t decide.
100 bottles of beer on the wall,
100 bottles of beer.
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4. |
Tapped Out
02:31
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Look, I was never an angel,
I’m not calling it a fall from grace,
But I sure did fall, as you’ll recall,
We’re both in the same place.
Eating beers at night on a playground,
Smoking out of soda cans,
Guitars, drums, tones and saxophones,
And fucking up our plans.
Oh shit! Oh no! My stash is low,
Gotta cop real soon so I gotta go,
Cold sweats, hands shook, no shit I’m hooked,
I’m tapped out, gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
(Whoa oh oh oh, whoa oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook,
(Whoa oh oh oh, who oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
Really, I’m a regular person.
Well, I gave “regular” the college try,
But taking prereqs, working nights jobs,
Good God, I’d rather fucking die.
Eventually I’ll just be a chipper,
Though it’s not possible, or so you say,
Cuz when the horse starts coursing through your blood,
It’s not like you can walk away.
Oh shit! Oh no! My stash is low,
Gotta cop real soon so I gotta go,
Cold sweats, hands shook, no shit I’m hooked,
I’m tapped out, gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
(Whoa oh oh oh, whoa oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook,
(Whoa oh oh oh, who oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
Oh shit! Oh no! My stash is low,
Gotta cop real soon so I gotta go,
Cold sweats, hands shook, no shit I’m hooked,
I’m tapped out, gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
Oh shit! Oh no! My stash is low,
Gotta cop real soon so I gotta go,
Cold sweats, hands shook, no shit I’m hooked,
I’m tapped out, gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
(Whoa oh oh oh, whoa oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook,
(Whoa oh oh oh, who oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
(Whoa oh oh oh, whoa oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook,
(Whoa oh oh oh, who oh oh oh)
Gotta get mom’s pocketbook.
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
I’m tapped out!
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5. |
Ponderous
01:58
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By the time I got to university,
You would never guess it when you look at me,
But I couldn’t have weighed anymore than eight stones,
A tiny little bugger made of skin and bones.
Late night, feasted on garbage; never exercised,
Pizza, beer, and cookies — they were my demise.
Friends and family said, “Whatcha gonna do?
When metabolism catches up with you.”
They said I’m ponderous,
That’s how they ponder us,
Don’t ever squander us,
Because we’re ponderous.
Shirts are getting tighter — maybe that’s the look,
Waist is getting wider from the food I cook,
The button on my fly burst off my pants,
The tiny little bugger never stood a chance.
Because I’m ponderous,
That’s how they ponder us,
Don’t ever squander us,
Because we’re ponderous.
Face is getting fatter, it’d hurt to smile,
But smiling hasn’t had to happen for a while,
When I look in the mirror, don’t know who I am,
A corpulent, disfigured slab of flabby ham.
When you called me ponderous, I took it well,
Pensive, intellectual, you didn’t tell,
The meaning of the adjective I love to hate:
Sluggish and clumsy from massive weight.
That’s why I’m ponderous,
That’s how they ponder us,
Don’t ever squander us,
Because we’re ponderous.
Thank God I’m ponderous,
That’s how they ponder us,
Don’t ever squander us,
Because we’re ponderous.
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6. |
Mainline
01:49
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Know what it’s like to live with someone who’s chipping away at their grave?
Nodding in and out of consciousness is no way to behave.
Know what it’s like when they’re your own flesh and blood and you’re watching them die?
How’d the doughy baby in your arms turn into this? You’ll always wonder why.
No, you don’t know, and you don’t want to know,
You won’t want to wind up in this fucking film.
Know what it’s like to turn your back on someone when love’s not enough?
When you leave yourself wide open, pray that they don’t call your bluff.
Know what it’s like when memories fade and they’re farther and farther away?
You perseverate on what you should’ve done or not done, said or shouldn’t say.
No, you don’t know, and you don’t want to know,
You won’t want to wind up in this moving pic,
Cuz when it happens, holy shit, it happens quick.
Why’s it worse for some, and will we ever know?
Just spike yr vein, and let’s fucking go!
First you bump, then you blow,
Then you stop, you skin-pop,
Then you shoot, not in the vein,
You’re not insane, then you mainline.
First you bump, then you blow,
Then you stop, you skin-pop,
Then you shoot, not in the vein,
You’re not insane, then you mainline.
First you bump, then you blow,
Then you stop, you skin-pop,
Then you shoot, not in the vein,
You’re not insane, then you mainline.
First you bump, then you blow,
Then you stop, you skin-pop,
Then you shoot it in the vein,
You were insane, then you died.
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7. |
Bubble Boy
02:09
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I’ve got anxiety,
Crippling anxiety,
Need cognitive therapy,
Or at least Fluoxetine,
When I was seventeen,
Flooded my nucleus with dopamine,
It was so obscene,
You should’ve heard the neighbors scream.
My guidance counselor gave me strategies and stuff to say,
But I just want a magic bubble that can just take me away,
From my insanity,
What other explanation can it be?
And I’m blind to see,
Folks just don’t confide in me,
And my anxiety.
I’m not a normal guy,
Thoughts pop up in my head I don’t know why,
So, you think I’m shy,
It’s cuz I think I’m gunna die,
From my anxiety,
Blood-curdling anxiety,
Need electroconvulsant therapy,
But what will most folks think of me?
And my anxiety.
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8. |
Alive in '05
03:48
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We were alive in ‘05,
I was thriving,
You had your moments, too.
It’s unfair; not aware,
You were barely surviving.
What are you gonna do?
I’d never do this to you.
Now I’ll write you off completely,
Since you’ve written off being a human being.
I don’t care if you’re okay,
I don’t care if you cry,
I don’t care what you say,
I don’t care if you die,
Cuz ya lie.
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
And feel free to say what you want,
Be what you want,
Better pray that you don’t tell me what you want,
It won’t faze me, cuz I’ve been through this before,
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
You never cared,
Or at least I conjectured,
Making it all make sense,
You were cleaning your ears and your nose,
In my lecture,
Rendering me incensed,
It’s not your first offense.
Now you let me down completely and you threatened my career,
You pestered kids for coke after you swabbed your fetid ear,
And I just wish you’d disappear.
I don’t care if you’re okay,
I don’t care if you cry,
I don’t care what you say,
I don’t care if you die,
Cuz ya lie.
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
And feel free to say what you want,
Be what you want,
Better pray that you don’t tell me what you want,
It won’t faze me, cuz I’ve been through this before,
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
Soon we’ll be old,
And our backs will be hurting,
I hope our kids get along.
When our past is the past,
No look-backs, no deserting,
But right now ya done me wrong,
And as such, I sing this song:
I don’t care if you’re okay,
I don’t care if you cry,
I don’t care what you say,
I don’t care if you die,
Cuz ya lie.
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
And feel free to say what you want,
Be what you want,
Better pray that you don’t tell me what you want,
It won’t faze me, cuz I’ve been through this before,
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
It won’t faze me; you’ve put me through this before,
But, amazingly, it’s time to close this door,
Call me crazy, but don’t call me anymore.
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9. |
Ph.Dub.
03:29
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When I got back from Boston, Mass.,
I didn't know my elbow from my fucking ass,
But I paid five thousand clams per class,
Now I'm a fucking asshole.
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me,
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me.
I still can't be an employee,
Despite my attending university,
Gotta pay to prove my mastery,
Now I'm a fucking asshole.
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me,
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me.
I finally earn a salary,
With bills as far as the eye can see,
So I double down and get a fucking Ph.D.
Now I'm a fucking asshole.
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me,
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me.
And when I die just bury me,
In student loans and overdraft fees,
Dr. Asshole, R.I.P.,
Here lies a fucking asshole.
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me,
Sell your soul for your degree,
You wanna be an asshole, follow me.
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10. |
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A doughy loser on a couch:
I was 22 and unemployed.
Got a mandolin — a sadness toy.
I didn’t have health insurance,
No endurance and parents were annoyed.
We’re already off to a good start!
I couldn’t write songs, our drummer died.
Somebody did a car bomb for every song,
It didn’t feel wrong, but,
HEY! Is it me? Is it getting sleepy in here?
We played two shows tonight.
It doesn’t make it right — I was shite.
Cuz now it’s really getting sleepy in here.
Oh, look! It’s Laura’s amp.
I think I’ll take a nap — Tom’ll sing the song.
In an effort to get kids dancin’,
Someone flew us out to Wiscansin,
Off the plane, into the bar, took it too far, now none of us are standin’.
Liquor store’s are gonna close at nine,
Sprint across the town — get back on time.
What else were we gonna do? I would’ve booed, I think we got sued!
Cuz HEY! Is it me? Is it getting sleepy in here?
My mind is getting dark; I’m missing all the marks — Too much Sparks!
Cuz now it’s REALLY getting sleepy in here.
We played your song tonight,
I tried to make it right,
It doesn’t make it right.
I guess what I still haven’t said,
Since you took action to be dead,
But you pulled me in at the end,
That made you a miserable friend.
I still feel I coulda done more,
To make things like they were before,
A doughy loser on the floor.
Hey, is it me? Is it getting sleepy in here?
My glasses and my horn are lost and so am I, and I’m torn,
Cuz now it’s DEFINITELY getting sleepy in here.
But now I’m not alone,
It’s gross — I think I’ve grown,
It’s time to say shalom,
To a doughy loser in a home.
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11. |
Leaving Leith
04:16
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Davey Galloway’s guilt weighs a ton,
As he speaks to his young son,
Tells his son Andrew,
“You’re the man, you better act like one.”
Gally promises that he’ll be brave,
But his soul needs to be saved,
As the polis take in his father,
He’ll be the same, so why the bother.
Can we go to a place where it’s warm?
Devoid of hard drugs, juvenile reform?
Leaving Leith, leaving Scotland to mourn.
Gally and his mate Carl made a crew,
With Billy Birrell and Terry, too,
And the eclectic bunch of punks stuck together like glue.
Often got drunk, rarely showed up at school,
Lived by a code of these rules:
Back up your mates, and never rat,
But not everyone abides by that,
Cuz when McMurray maimed that boy,
He maimed that boy with Gally’s knife,
Then he took the blame, he went away,
It set the stage for Gally’s life.
Can we go to a place where it’s warm?
Devoid of hard drugs, juvenile reform?
Leaving Leith, leaving Scotland to mourn.
The second he got out of jail, he got his hole off for the first time,
Wouldn’t you know it was the worst time,
Got a kid, got hitched.
Then when McMurray moved in on his wife,
He looked around, said, “Why choose life?”
Rolled up his sleeve and spiked his vein,
Not knowing nothing’d be the same.
Then got tested, told his mates he’d soon be dead; his blood was shite.
Terry shot that punk McMurray in the neck that very night.
Gally decided while violently laughing that he’d no longer wish to fight,
So he ended his existence,
Thinking he was in the right.
Can we go to a place where it’s warm?
Devoid of hard drugs, juvenile reform?
Leaving Leith, leaving Scotland to mourn.
Arrive at a felon named Dave,
Quietly sobbing by a grave,
Says his goodbyes and says, “I’m sorry,”
To a son he couldn’t save.
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12. |
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Rocky Sullivan, Psy.D. Oceanside, New York
With a head full of limericks and a belly full of potatoes, Mick Babe conscripted members of Bomb the Music Industry! and The Fad into The Rocky Sullivans, and they played Hibernian music stupidly fast and unnecessarily loud. Rocky Sullivan, Psy.D. is the band’s readeption. ... more
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