A Demonstration of the Musical Abilities of The Runouts circa June​/​July 2015

by The Runouts

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1.
01:59
2.
02:21
3.
02:37

credits

released July 9, 2015

Lead vocals/Backup vocals/Rhythm guitar: Nolan
Lead guitar/Backup vocals: Uncle D
Bass guitar/Backup vocals: Tim Thomson
Drums: Andy Mac
Recorded, edited, and mixed by Jeff Bousquet

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The Runouts Boston, Massachusetts

Outlaw country. But from the city, not the country. The city of Boston. And not country, but punk rock. So, a punk rock band from Boston.

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Track Name: Eraser
You've got every right
You don't have to like the way I am
My stupid mistakes
The friends that I keep
The ones that I love
So you think I'm a charlatan
That I lie through my teeth
I never lied
I've just done my best
To try and succeed

Sometimes you get left in the lurch
That's where they teach you how to beg
Just keep your eyes on the ground
Silence is gold

Eraser
Don't you know I've been here before?
It's there and then it's gone
Eraser
Dust off and move along

Just because you turn your back
Doesn't mean that I cease to be
No I'm still here
picking up the pieces
you left on the floor
You're a quitter at heart
But if you've gotta, then put your shame on me
My heart will stop beating
The moment I don't have
Someone to prove wrong

Eraser
Should've known I've been here before
It's there and then it's gone
Eraser
Dust off and move along
Please don't take too long
I'll still be here when you're gone
Track Name: Lame Brains
Keep sticking things up your nose
some day you'll stab yourself in the brain
have you ever felt a tug on your heart strings?
did you think it was a tug on your purse strings?
rich man has a mighty lame brain
has a lot of precious money to gain
grey matter only grows in his hair
color it in, pretend it's not there
go ahead, do what you want man
go ahead, and act like a cunt man
nothing more and nothing less is held up to the standard of you

Control, he's an ironic slave to control

trickle down a little piss on my head
a broken theory, Hamilton's dead
pretty stupid to throw down your guns
a hard lesson on how the west would be won
working hard on not trying to work
held down by a knee and a jerk
losing little bits and pieces of mind
losing my nose on the stone that we grind
years go by without mercy
catching up to the things that hurt me
nothing more and nothing less is held up to the standard of me
Track Name: Loaded Gun
I don't wanna feel feelings
I wish my head would stop reeling
I've gotta get out from under your thumb
so I can head to the tracks
lay down and relax
and wait for the train to come
"MUD" written on my face
always nervous, out of place
outside looking in, it suits me fine
I've heard it before
"the kids" are a bore
only a gun could ever blow my mind

take my hands from my pockets, and curl them into fists
but they crack and they bleed each time
come swinging at my head
but I never can duck in time

the ditch of my arms
and the small of my back
get so tense sometimes I lose my head
so I curl in a ball
and flex them all
until I stop seeing red
a steady diet of rage
it's what I breath
in what I bathe
freebase it straight into the vein
wash it all down
a furrowed brow and a frown
insecurity and white hot shame

If I could go back, and find myself
before I swore to grow to be a good man
I'd put a loaded gun in the naive little toehead's hand

If I could stop brooding
and learn to stop stewing
and enjoy the time I get with you
I'd claw my way to the top
have a seat and stop
for a minute to enjoy the view