1. |
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This is gonna sound so much worse on the ride home, I'm never gonna go.
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2. |
From Willow To Katella
02:07
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I'm a traveler, who hasn't left home yet.
got no set of keys that belong to anything.
and my last name don't belong to me, and
my last name don't even belong to me.
she asked me, "how do you make love stay?"
and i told her, "with enough explosives to take out this place!"
That ride i thought would take me home,
but the truth was, i've nowhere to go.
and this still life is all filled with holes,
and this still life, it's all filled with holes.
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3. |
I Hate My Life
02:18
|
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|
I hate my life.
that's right, I said it.
I'm gonna drink until I forget it.
I hate my life.
That's right, it's true.
and if you were me,
then you would hate it too.
I hate my life.
That's right, i said it.
I'm gonna drink until I forget it...
The first time i ever knew pain,
I let my mother down.
she never yelled,
she never screamed,
she never laid a single finger on me,
just knowing that i'd hurt her was enough.
and calling home from jail
was the 2nd time I realized I'd failed
and I couldn't even look her in the eye.
And i'm afraid that i will let you down,
the same way you NEVER let me down.
I want to change, but i know i will always be this way.
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4. |
Adam Writes A Song
03:57
|
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|
Last night i saw a flower
fighting through a slab a concrete.
A true poet would've said something,
I only saw a life born simply to die.
Pacific Ave. is a relic, and this is the last song
i'll ever write.
Those hips sink ships.
The shadows grow taller,
these days get longer.
This is what you call falling apart,
when you come to realize
that everyone's face
is someone else's past.
dead, my old fine hopes
and dry, my dreaming.
but still, iris blue each spring.
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5. |
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|
This is what you call "Disappointment Rock",
when you start to lose every one of your songs.
What drives a man to drive a bus?
I can hardly walk, hardly stand up,
spent too many years having the worst kind of fun.
This is what they say happens to people
when they lose their way.
we've lost our way.
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6. |
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7. |
Cowboys And Indians
03:22
|
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|
can't give you anymore good memories
cause I've used them all up, like
a barkeep shouting last call
to a room that's full of drunks.
stealing kisses in the back of house shows,
we're having too much fun.
can't expect time to wait for you,
we all will be undone.
was it everything you hoped for,
or what you've come to expect?
if it were up to me, if it were up to me
you'd get it back, we'd get it back.
we were dressed like cowboys and indians
when they ran us out of town.
we fit those roles all to well,
but what else could we do?
what it everything you hoped for,
or what you've learned to accept?
if it were up to me, if it were up to me
you'd get it back, we'd get it back.
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8. |
Backyard Politics
03:21
|
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|
I wasted all my wishes to make sure
that you don't get yours.
I wasted all my hope on you getting
what you deserve.
if you think that sounds bad, then
I've got a new backup plan;
start with a 3 day drinking binge
and 3 nights left following
me screaming out your name, just because.
I know that's something you don't want to hear.
what are you doing here, doing this to me?
and aren't you sick of getting all your ideas
and morales based upon the backyard politics
of hanging out, but never hanging on?
you never talked about leaving town
until I started hanging 'round.
you've got a train, you've got a bus,
fifty ways of getting lost.
i'll still scream out your name,
just because.
and all these scattered poems
just remind me of home.
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9. |
|
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|
you might think I'm an asshole,
but thats probably true anyway.
you might think I'm a loser,
but i don't give a shit about what you say.
yeah, i like to drink and smoke,
and i party way too much.
and you say that I'm wasting life,
but what do you care when you gave up?
you say you don't care if you ever see my face again
and i only say i hate you now,
'cause you said you loved me then.
and you say I'm cold as ice
and my heart is hard as stone,
remember when i let you in
and you left me there alone.
you might think I'm an asshole, but
thats probably true anyway.
you might think I'm a loser, but
i don't give a shit about what you say.
you might think I'm an asshole, baby,
but you know it's true,
I only say i hate you now,
'cause you said you loved me too.
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10. |
Get Low
03:03
|
|
||
|
Another night, another dive,
in the bar or in the ocean.
Another car, another drive,
under dim stars of the city.
and
where do you go when the lights get low?
maybe i can meet you there someday, well,
i don't know.
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11. |
Hospital Beds
03:25
|
|
||
|
Monday my head was aching
so i went down to the hospital
i didn't think much of it
when they said "Come back tomorrow".
and so,
Tuesday my head is pounding
and I'm stuck inside this waiting room
the doctor turns and says to me
"Son, you won't be leaving no time soon".
and I'm stuck here
in the east wing of this hospital
hooked up to this machinery
and all i want s'to be back
with the ones i know and love.
and
Wednesday night through morphine dreams
i try so hard to see you face
but blood-stained gowns and dripping IV's
remind me again of this awful place.
and this dreary routine rolls on without care,
these unmade beds the only proof we were there.
and I don't wanna be here, anymore.
|
||||
Black Sparrow Press Los Angeles, California
Black Sparrow Press is made up of four guys from San Pedro CA, who drink cheap whiskey and play music. party!
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