1. |
No Shame
04:13
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Smile
I'll stay a while
I will waste all of my fucking time
Trying to entertain
Hold the door
I'll be your whore
You can rate my fingers with your fucking ears
FEMA tent
Seventy four cents
I'd kill a thousand people for just one fucking lousy fan
Leave my room and go outside
Find the perfect place for me to hide
After to you I lied
No shame
No blame
No pain
No gain
No strain
No brain
We're all
The same
Whenever I make a friend I play guitar
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2. |
Haunted House
09:15
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This scene is so polluted
With people paying what they want to
This sound is convoluted
By people singing what they want to
They're all singing
I wish that I could meet you
But I can't cross the damn line
I really like your latest album
I hope that you like mine
I can barely hear you
Singing through a string and tin cans
No reason not to fear you
I would like to get a few fans
It's impossible to be the best at anything
It's impossible to be the worst at everything
But I never give up
I never will give up
Whether you like it or not
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3. |
Glad To Be So Angry
04:10
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Ow
I like to scream when I'm feeling angry
To them my life is like TV show
Now
I feel like a fucking Hallmark card
I'm embracing people I don't even know
Wow
Having emotions brings your fingers down
I am not angry but I'm in a fight
Look at that shit
It's all shit
Down
Don't listen to the air I push out of my lungs
Just listen to the words my mouth couldn't write
Fucking shit
It's all fucking shit
All of it
I fucking hate it all
Piece of shit
Fucking god damn piece of shit
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4. |
Farewell, Urban Cowboy
03:33
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Flustered with the lack of adventure and the constant temptation of sitting in the chairs at his gig sniffing beef at the corn syrup zoo, the urban cowboy left his little cardboard loft in search of a working air conditioner.
Though the bastard was clever, he was unaware that every hook eyed sack of shit from the south prayed that the urban cowboy would save them from their uncomfortable, sweaty lives of cruel space heaters.
Nobody knows where you're coming from
Where you're coming from
And then you're gone
Urban cowboy rots inside a cubicle
A cubicle
Has atrophy
He gave up his life for some repetition
Repetition
Repetition
He would lead the cows due east and not due west
Into the city
To New York city
Farewell
Farewell
Farewell
Urban cowboy
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5. |
Greyhounds
04:54
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My tired mind
My weary soul
I've had enough
I want control
Invisible
We will survive
We're barely real
We're not alive
You don't want me around
Don't want me to stay
Put me on a greyhound
And send me away
This isn't living
It's just dying slow
With Nowhere to be
And Nothing to know
Everybody dreams that their teeth fell outta their head
Everybody dreams that their loved ones had been dead
Make it once a month and make it free
Your muscles won't come back from atrophy
I'm gonna try
To be a better musician
That's it
It's over
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Squirrel Lacey Township, New Jersey
I'm an artist from the pine barrens of New Jersey, making weird sonic experiments and lo-fi pop in my bedroom.
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