1. |
Lick Film
02:05
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Cash is proof enough you've lost the touch
& twiddle middle digits into dust.
Borrow scissors, lick film asleep.
Drinking chemicals beneath the kitchen sink.
Been trying ever since
I was small
to feel as if I’m human at all.
Foul seasons, dead dogs,
lost shoes, old paths.
Let's give up pretending we know
anything but the past.
Nobody knows shit.
Nobody knows shit.
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2. |
Quality Holiday
01:22
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Stench & snot complete.
Can't stand anymore D-Beat.
I desire surf rock odes,
Dick Dale, and being left alone.
Leave me alone.
Need a quality holiday
with my boogie board in tow.
Machine gun killing Nazis,
to Normandy I'll go.
Sentimental affluence:
The Beach Boys go to war.
Surf's up, Richard Nixon!
Don't need D-Beat no more.
Gangland vacation.
Surfs is fucking norms.
Gangland vacation.
Punks is norms, we're fucking norms,
you're fucking norms.
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3. |
Don't Go In There
01:40
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Cull all care for that town.
There’s nothing left to dwell on, anyhow.
Melting down while fessing up.
Stuck up front. Nude & alone.
I’m alone.
Collapse, collapse.
Collapse, collapse.
Collapse, collapse.
I’m ready for my last drink.
No way to help myself at all.
Or say I won’t bring harm to anyone at all. At all.
Sick of bed & news print in my gut.
These years of hollow, it’s enough.
Please – it’s enough.
I’m tired of being scared of myself.
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4. |
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Captured, left askance, sneak me inside.
Too sick to even think,
tiptoeing on landmines.
I am fucking out of my mind,
yet still show up to work on time.
Click, click – leave it alone.
Still sleeping under eaves.
More shit that I don’t need.
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5. |
Grown Up Garbage
00:38
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I'm a celebrity - look at me!
I live my life on your TV.
So, so pretty - look at me, just look at me.
Grown up garbage.
I'm an animal - look at me!
I live my life on LSD.
Push me off, push me off, push me offscreen.
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6. |
Vivian Steamroller
01:44
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Don’t tell me about your miles when they’ve slipped away.
Why entertain privacies when we’re less than friendly ghosts?
Let’s make one thing perfectly clear:
You vanished & I’ll never belong here.
Running scared
Bugs for brains
Orphaned spine
Drugged & deranged
Patron saint of nowhere to go.
Running scared
Bugs for brains
Orphaned spine
Drugged & deranged
Patron saint of nothing to say.
Come screw what little lies
before the embers die.
I’m still humming reels of sycamore.
Long gone & grey.
Long gone, estranged.
Running scared
Bugs for brains
Orphaned spine
Drugged & deranged
Patron saint of nowhere to go.
Running scared
Bugs for brains
Orphaned spine
Drugged & deranged
Patron saint of nothing to gain.
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Compassion Fatigue Boston, Massachusetts
NO FRIENDS, NO SHOWS, NO LAUGHS, NO LOVES, NO JOBS, NO HOPES, NO CLUES, NO BRAINS, NO TIMES, NO CARES, NO PLANS, NO HEARTS, NO ONE'S, NO FUNDS, NO FUNDS, NO FUN, NO FUN, NO FUN, NO FUN
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