We have some new bangers about ready to be recorded for y'alls. Some have been played live and others are in the works. Hopefully an EP will be ready come Summer time. The expected tracklisting is as follows:
1. Children of America
2. Beer Guts and Glory Holes
3. Setting the Bar Low
4. Burning Angel
5. College
6. Under Lock and Whiskey
7. Pre-Natal (InstruMENTAL)
8. Budweisered and Baby-Trapped
Here are the lyrics to all of the songs but two. I will update this yet again soon as I finish them.
"Children of America"
I wish I could drain my liver and lungs like a sponge,
Feed it to our sons in celebration of what their futures shall become.
We were sleeping on broken futons and fleeting with stolen shoes on.
From sending out 21 gun salutes toward all the students and teachers occupying our schools,
To standing in line like a flock of sheep, living out our government's fantasies.
Mom and dad must be so proud, now that they have a fucking trophy child to gloat about.
This is all just a cop-out; just another way for you to fucking drop out.
Baby, we've got a lot to prove.
Hollywood is going to make a movie out of you.
Home is where the dark is."
"Setting The Bar Low"
I swore I'd never write another song about friends.
Luckily, this isn't one of them.
In a new generation where shit floats and one man's trash is another man's pleasure,
And women are bruised, beaten, and re-used like thrift store leather.
While you were out rotting in front of slot machines hoping to win a new lease on a life,
No one gave a fuck about you.
Now as you parade the streets dressed in paper bags like a hidden habit,
The few that did wish they gave up too.
A sad, sad lad growing up answering sex ads only to find his dad.
In a world with so much chance,
The born businessman winds up selling filthy rags to begging rats.
How can you expect to stumble back in a home with a 'Welcome' mat that was removed long ago?
It's all just another boring story of the boy who cried woe.
"Burning Angel"
Mirror mirror, on the wall. Please remind me of my faults.
I switched my perfume today with a razor blade.
Just a few dabs on the wrist for the stench of beauty.
Mom and dad, please don't be mad my tuition turned into coke.
All the beatings and home and nights spent alone all made for the prettiest poems.
When you read this note, grab it like my throat and don't forget to strangle.
Signing off with love, your baby girl, the Burning Angel.
"College"
My work shirt's too big and I don't want to waste my time growing into it.
My face ages by days and I want want to commit the crime of knowing it.
My money is down to dimes from blowing it.
At least I've got this brand new tolerance.
Maybe I'll sell it off to girls with Quaaludes in their 'Jager-Bombs' the night their cherries were popped.
They say there's no languishing in fraternity tradition.
I heard there's no prison for the beloved campus children.
Maybe I'll pick up a football.
"Under Lock and Whiskey"
Whiskey for breakfast.
Soliciting sex in convents.
My last testament became my Christmas List.
Please pretty lips, don't dismiss my advances.
Grab my hand, let's rot with Atlantis.
Living fast, dying faster.
Only selfish fucks want to be remembered.
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