1. |
Exit Music For Luddites
02:59
|
|||
|
Welcome to the show!
Wannabe blue-bloods,
Free hor d'oeuvres,
and plastic-cup Merlot.
I don’t wanna die here,
Sweltering in this monkey suit
and short an organ-grinder.
Stumble in the wrong crowd,
Laugh a little too loud,
Watch them all stare.
Low bid the muse,
The kids all lose,
Cheap art, who cares?
I think it’s best we go.
You look dumb in heels,
Wobbling like a debutante
missing your training wheels.
The jewels are paste,
If it glitters, it don’t matter,
Even Luddites get a taste.
RSVP, you and me,
I think we’re done for.
Low bid - you won
a squiggly undergraduate eyesore,
I think it’s best we go.
Going, going, gone!
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
Whored up to the nines - oh God, it's freezing outside,
You’ve gotta dress to impress to prove you haven't yet died,
Thirty minutes 'til the boys are butchering Auld Lang Syne,
You light another “last” cigarette.
You’ve been lurking on the corner of Caldwell and Main
with every Rock City reject creeping up in the frame,
You’re a little self-conscience and a whole-lot ashamed -
I think you’re gonna have to dance anyway...
And hurt until you’re laughing
Yeah - here’s your half of nothing.
In with the new - and you can’t lose what you don’t win,
Raise your glass and I’ll see you again.
Questions unanswered, clues you can’t find,
It’s like the world's weirdest spotlight is straining to shine
on small towns like yours, and what's yours is mine,
Purgatory glory, behold.
Cups of kindness til you're blinded to your favorite mistakes,
Both feet on the gas and to hell with the brakes,
Swerve the road-less-traveled for as long as it takes,
Low-hanging fruit, binge-and-purge.
In with the new, looks like you’re screwed, my old friend...
Itching for redemption -
You scratch those bad intentions,
Out with the old and I don’t know what’s coming in,
But raise your glass and I’ll see you again.
Raise your glass and I’ll see you again.
|
||||
3. |
The Ones Who Got Away
03:08
|
|||
|
Sprinting the Pinnacle Trail dressed like assholes,
Indian Summer expiring,
Children and dogs scramble out of our way,
Heart palpitations, I’m dying.
We’re aiming low - no really, we are!
On top of the world’s smallest mountain.
Here’s a toast - another beer from a backpack,
How many, man? I’m not even counting.
To the devil in the details
who flaunts his fancy clothes.
To the white whale who storms the deck,
To Ahab eating crow,
To weddings, births, and deaths,
Pinky swears and sucker bets,
and genies devoid of wishes,
and all the water under all those bridges -
and the ones who got away...
My friends grew up - nobody phones me anymore,
I’m just a mascot for their reprobate days,
But then again, I never phone nobody either,
I guess it’s got to work both ways.
Flick off a tick before you start to suck,
You’re splayed out in a bed of granite,
That’s the same sunset you’ve seen a million times before,
Let some other fucker Instagram it.
|
||||
4. |
Antifreeze
02:47
|
|||
|
Tonight my friends are drinking and I'm in on the first round,
I didn't mean to do that shot, but somehow it went down.
I'd like to make excuses but there's nothing I can say,
I didn't mean to do it but I did it anyway.
I wish that I could melt the frost that coats your memories,
But I can't crawl inside your head to pour my antifreeze,
Instead I'm gonna dry your eyes and then I'll dig my grave...
I didn't mean to do it but I did it anyway.
You've shown kindness but it's been awhile,
What can I give you in exchange for a smile?
You seem different, but I've not changed,
Close your window and I'll sleep in the rain.
I've been dreaming of a big white house and a beat-up rocking chair,
I’ll make my peace in exile and mind my own affairs--
Instead of dodging bullets shot out from your gaze,
I didn't mean to do it but I did it anyway.
Somewhere someone's injured by a comment made in jest,
Somewhere birds with broken wings get kicked out of the nest,
But tonight my friends are drinking and I'll likely kill their fun,
I didn't mean to do that shot, but somehow it got done.
I didn't mean to screw my head, but somehow it got done.
|
||||
5. |
Doosh Taxi
02:48
|
|||
|
Skeleton boys with opiate stares
Say they're your friends and I shouldn't care,
But you're slurring threats and just threw your shoes
At a half-burnt trailer off 322.
Sober-with-a-car means I'm a taxi under county law,
Tell me where you wanna go.
Midnight in McConnells - I'm scrambling for an alibi,
You're turning up the radio.
Why are you turning up the radio?
You curse like a sailor and you laugh like a man
With a list of addresses sharpied on your hand,
I'm begging you to pick one but you're still not sure,
I don't have a meter but this ain't no tour.
Wadded receipt in a cup-holder with your real name,
I'm covering all my bases.
I used to know a girl with chopped-up bangs and arms like yours,
She used to laugh when I made faces.
Why don’t you tell me where the hell this place is?
|
||||
6. |
Smile
04:52
|
|||
|
She hid a shiv inside of a cake,
He's got a sweet tooth and now his guts ache,
He knows how to eat and she knows how to bake,
And they smile and they smile and they smile.
Married ten years and the flowers are dead,
Tiptoe on eggshells as soft as our heads,
We used to go out, now we stay home instead,
But we smile and we smile and we smile.
Come all ye ladies, Come all ye gents,
It's time to seize life by the teeth of its skin,
"Mundane" is "profane" with a scary white grin,
And you smile and you smile and you smile.
That apparition in this looking glass
does everything backwards with its head up its ass.
It could change its routine but the die has been cast,
And it smiles and it smiles and it smiles.
I had a strange day as I often do,
I told you about it, but you had one too,
If you wave the white flag, I'll sing you the blues
And we'll smile and we'll smile and we'll smile.
There’s a turd in the punchbowl but you’re still gonna drink,
No one cares how you feel, No one cares what you think,
Your story was scrived with invisible ink,
But you smile and you smile and you smile.
We’re not in the credits - we don't watch the show,
Don't ask how I'm doing these days - these days, I don't even know.
I hope the train at the end of your tunnel is a light,
Hope you dream pleasant dreams after you say goodnight,
But we're all getting weirder before we get right,
And we smile and we smile and we smile.
|
||||
7. |
Burned Out a While Ago
03:26
|
|||
|
The sky is growing darker,
There's a magpie at the gate,
Dogs are growling, black cat prowling,
and all my joints ache.
The wind just changed direction,
There's a sinkhole in the ground.
Put two and two together,
Guess I’m in for nasty weather
‘cause you just rolled into town.
One drink in and how-you-been?
And how is what's-his-name?
Or did I get him mixed up with another schmuck?
All your boyfriends look the same.
I had a complement to pay you
but it died inside my throat,
I’d like to keep the light on for you
but it burned out a while ago.
Almost midnight and everything's alright,
Maybe I was wrong?
‘Cause you're laughing at my stupid jokes,
I play the fool and we're moving right along...
But there's a feeling in my bones...
You’re asking about old friends
I haven't thought about in years,
Well they're all raising fucked-up kids
and they call their jobs "careers".
You say I'm looking thin these days -
I’ve been pigging out on Crow,
I’d like to keep the light on for you
but it burned out a while ago.
You’re killing me with kindness,
I know you mean no harm,
I'm a roadkill under your heel,
Champagne-cold and whiskey-warm,
Don't tell me where you're paying rent
‘cause I sure don't want to know.
I'd like to keep the light on for you,
but it burned out a while ago.
A quarter-to-two when you blow a fuse,
I guess I should have learned,
But I’ll pay the tab and call your cab,
and hope to God this bridge has finally burned.
Here we go!
Auf wiedersehen! Sayanora!
See you later! Goodbye.
|
||||
8. |
Floor Plan
02:03
|
|||
|
Jagged pain in my head, coffee ain’t no cure,
Three shows booked, two fell through, and hell yeah, we’re on tour,
Offending every ass you’re supposed to kiss will get you nowhere,
Where do asses congregate? Tell us and we’ll go there.
Crumple all those worries up
and smoke them if you’ve got’em.
And If I’m the one who cheers you up,
you know you’ve hit the bottom.
Shuffle the deck and we’ll just deal them from the floor,
This pounding in my head won’t spoil my heart...
I’m crashing hard, I still want more.
Soundchecks for insomniacs who won’t call it a day,
Sisyphus’ rock won’t roll and he ain’t getting paid,
Contorted blurry faces, forgotten friends and names,
They’re all waving in the rearview mirror, going up in flames.
Summer's gone, the-young-at-heart will feel the way they feel,
And I’m the first one to admit I’m full of shit, believing it’s all real,
You take the couch, man, I’m the reason for the floor,
But I ain’t no worse for the wear and I don’t care,
I’m crashing hard, I still want more.
This pounding in my head won’t spoil my heart, I’m crashing hard.
Rock-and-roll forever - every fool’s a star.
|
||||
9. |
Vagrant Hour
03:23
|
|||
|
Vagrant hour on the boardwalk,
Beach patrol’s already gone,
Too head-wired to fall into slumber,
I staggered back down here alone,
and the last of the fireworks
wheeze through brackish night air,
Tide rolling in, I don’t care.
Atlantic spitting back moonlight
in a thousand jittery frames,
Fighting a hypnotic urge to swim out and
go under and give up my name,
Same slither of coastline
that never knew we were here,
Same walk to Windy Hill pier.
When that fight-or-flight feeling takes hold,
When feeling alive just gets old - save me.
And it’s John 3:16 on a trash bin -
We’re all coming to Jesus in style!
Empty the flask, rinse off the sand,
I haven’t cracked myself up in a while,
Epiphanies are for tourists,
But a vagrant keeps moving on,
High tide - Man, I’m already gone.
|
||||
10. |
Hair Shirt
03:42
|
|||
|
A forlorn frontman with his first beard,
Easy tenor and he's singing about home,
A 20-year-old missing his teens ain't a joke,
For a second there, I felt so alone…
Hometown wedding obligations,
You flew in to grin and pose in a dress,
To be worn one time on your best friend’s daddy’s dime,
The bride is hammered and the groom is a mess.
You flash me the high sign, we creep outside
To decompress and move away from the crowd,
Compare and contrast our disintegrating aspirations,
Talking shit and talking it loud.
You’ve got a radiance Father Time’s too scared to reclaim,
And a mean streak that’s sharp as a knife,
I still play the clown every time you breeze through town
and rip out pages in this book you helped write.
Here it comes again - I'm easy prey
Your smile’s a flashback wonder and the years all melt away,
Hair shirt stings, I still wear it,
My heart’s in the right place - where I left it,
You know I’m sorry.
One of those weird warm April nights,
And you know what they say about Spring...
You laugh about long-lost love and then you shove me,
You start to whisper something obscene.
I feel like a stuntman in my own film,
One day this chute ain't gonna open for sure,
No one like you is gonna clean up the mess,
No one like me could hope for anything more.
Here it comes again - I’m onto you,
It don’t matter - you do what you wanna do,
Could-have-beens will kill you if you live long enough,
Open bar to smooth ya before you start playing rough,
And you know I’m sorry.
They’ve all cabbed it back to the hotel,
We’re the only ones watching this band,
A 20-year-old missing his teens ain't a joke,
Clasping hands under the table again.
Always a bridesmaid - that’s alright,
Keep holding out until the prospects look good,
Little Miss Understanding won’t ever need a Mr. Misunderstood.
Here it comes again - I’m easy prey,
I dread the day our nights don’t end this way.
Hair shirt stings, I still wear it,
My heart’s in the right place, where I left it.
You know I’m sorry.
|
||||
11. |
Lark Said to Owl
02:17
|
|||
|
Lark said to the owl - Hello good morning,
There's work to do and a song I best be learning.
Owl said - Man I'm good right here.
Your whistle song just hurts my ears.
I don't want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.
Lark says to the owl - Your day is ruined.
The sun is high and you ain’t even moving.
Owl says - I’m too low to rise,
and that big bright sun just hurts my eyes.
I don't want it, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.
Move along now - I won’t chase you,
Where’s your finish line?
The race you think you’re running
makes no difference to me.
When you’ve had your fill and those crickets start to chirp
and that black blanket falls --
a crescent moon is all the light I'm ever going to need.
I'll see you. You won't be seeing me.
Owl said to the lark - It's getting dark, man,
and where I'm going’s no place for a lark, man.
I’ve got friends who’d love to eat
a scrawny bird deprived of sleep
If they want it, if they want it, if they want it.
Get on it, son. Get on it, son, Get on it.
|
||||
12. |
||||
|
You were everybody's favorite,
You showed up late one spring,
A scattered thrift store eyesore
Out of nowhere, or so it seemed.
You had an older sister,
But there was no one else
you ever had to get back home to.
You and me, a boombox
on the train bridge in Lando,
Blasting worn cassettes,
and mill-town ghosts
would never show.
Someone else's ruins
gave us something to believe in.
Cicadas and the fireflies,
August breaking even.
What went wrong?
Years stained black shed no light.
It's a long-forgotten song.
I hope you found that peace gone missing.
I hope you laid your burden down.
You'd talk about your mother,
Had no clue where she could be,
Said she'd taken up with vodka
when they stopped the MMT.
You didn't recognize the voice -
the man who phoned that night
saying you'd best get down to Charleston…
Clothes crammed into grocery bags,
Your sister cursed her name,
Off to babysit someone
who never gave a shit,
No sense at all
or at least no sense of shame.
And when the dust had settled,
That last cup of coffee drank,
You burrowed your head
into my chest and sobbed...
No goodbye, just a "thanks".
Once or twice a year -
For no good reason, I’ll drive by,
Same slanted leaky porch,
Same dogwood tree outside.
You always had a dirty joke
and something to confide.
You and me, a boombox...
and that board you used to ride.
|
||||
If you like Motel Glory, you may also like:
This full-length debut from the Melbourne, Australia-based band is filled with punk-laced powerpop.
go to album
Roaring guitar-rock with hooks for days, Romero deliver high-octane power-pop guaranteed to satisfy.
go to album
Psychedelia of a darker shade than usual, Francie Moon eschew kaleidoscopic colors for a slow, sludgey trek through the sonic badlands.
go to album
“No Dados” does all that rock ‘n’ roll, at its most sorrow-driven, ever wanted to do for anyone—and that’s to fix a broken heart.
go to album
South Philly band Grocer has all the sly disaffection of classic ’90s indie rock in their wonderfully unruly songs.
go to album
Dumb Punts - The Big One
by PISSFART RECORDS
Ragged guitar punk from this Melbourne group with slashing riffs and attitude for days.
go to album
Volar LA Set (Flat Worms, Tracy Bryant, Part Time/Drinking Flowers, Cosmonauts, Susan)
by Flat Worms
Collected tracks from five bands including Cosmonauts, Susan, and Flat Worms provides a look into the vibrant Los Angeles music scene.
go to album
