1. |
Birds
04:28
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It's 4 a.m., done it again
Birds are chirpin out my window
And I should be out cold.
You'd think with all these songs about wasting time,
We'd start to know better, we never knew better...
So much in bloom, spring came too soon.
I'm thawin out, the going's tough,
But I'll get there soon enough.
Spent a season watching leafless silhouettes,
I wish that they'd stay ugly, I'm not ready for em yet.
We're young enough to hope, old enough to regret.
Some friends are growin up, some are already dead.
That spark is gone it seems, the excuse for every breath.
A drink for every dream, I kiss and then forget,
Kiss and then forget...
The pictures remind me, of where I'm never at.
There's that one from Sebago, smile and a bag.
It was bought in a country I'll never see, with money I'll never earn.
And it's no one's fault but mine
I'm runnin low on hope, stocked up with regret.
Feel like a fucking joke, but it sure beats bein dead
That punch you never threw, a line left in the dirt,
Well wake the fuck up son. It's 5 a.m., time to get to fuckin work
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2. |
Razors in the Wall
03:59
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She laughed at his jokes, he kinda liked the way she smoked.
They made it back in one piece, and that was enough,
To get em through the night.
The secrets and lies, whispered under sheets couldn't,
Hold up for long.
But summer was comin, anything seemed possible.
And sometimes we all feel invincible.
It don't mean much to me, and I can't explain it all,
I've never been one for certainty, but I can bet,
He'll toss her away, toss her away, like razors in the wall.
Told her we'd be headin home soon, hell it'd been a long night.
I got work pretty early, and France sure seems nice.
I'm always waitin till the last minute,
See what them words of mine can do.
Didn't feel so good in the mornin,
But boy do I got stories for you.
It don't mean much to me, and I can't explain it all,
I've never been one for certainty, but I can bet,
He'll toss her away, toss her away, like razors in the wall.
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3. |
L-Route
03:54
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Ya can't just do nothin, that'd be a waste of time.
So throw 5's in the tank, and we'll all throw 5's.
We'll litter the K-Lot with roaches and paranoia.
I know it's closed, but the drive-thru's still open.
Just like the weekend itself.
Thin back on D.A.R.E. class, let out a hollow laugh
We can drive past Officer Clark's house and laugh harder.
But we can't just do nothin, that'd be a waste of time.
I've got my music, and it won't get played.
Trust Croce to provide the soundtrack to every route.
Thugz Mansion starts, and four mouths open.
Out of one a command, "No singing!"
But we can't just do nothin, that'd be a waste of time.
Gotta air out the Civic, and Leone's freezing,
Huddled in the dark, desperate to close that window.
But the view from up here, ain't half bad...
The city beckons, through miles of boredom.
But it's sketchy to stay so we'll drive away,
Coming down together.
Phone's start to beep, I'm numb in my seat and tired.
So avoid Konnie's lines of sight, but bring me home.
I've had enough of doing nothing.
I've had enough of doing nothing.
I've had enough of doing nothing.
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Mohawk Dutch Suffern, New York
Conor Clavell- Drums/Vocals
Greg Ferguson- Bass
Eugene Gardner- Vocals/Guitar
Danny Tyler- Guitar
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