Bohemian Catastrophe

by The Runouts

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01:37
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03:03
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03:21
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03:28
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03:13

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released October 15, 2018

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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: Straw Man
I’m no true believer
I don’t need a reason to live
But I’m no bystander
I’m just always standing in someone else’s space

And they hate one another
They scream and yell at each other
Use each other like a human shield
A perpetual straw man
Doomed to combust and set the fields aflame

I guess I’m some kinda cynic
I won’t kiss anybody’s feet
I don’t ask for nothin”
I put others before me

And I’ve wore a smile when
I probably should’ve been crying
Just to spite those that’re causing me pain
Let this glorious spite sustain
And see this world try to out-insane

The kids from the waiting room
Stop running
(stop running)
Stop hiding
(stop hiding)

Here’s your anti-fascist
Here’s one who wants unity
Here’s your son of visionaries
Who listens to what other people have to say

You can play in the game, son
But games are for children
And the rules insure a swift defeat
So don’t play into their hand
Unplug, and turn away your eyes
And join the world

(Close your mouth, open your eyes)
The kids from the waiting room
Stop running
(stop running)
Stop hiding
(stop hiding)
The kids from the waiting room
Stop running
(stop running)
Stop hiding
(stop hiding)
Track Name: Prairie Wolf
My father was an artist in so many ways
he had big city dreams, one day he'd change the game
first came two sons then the fourteen hour days
I believe we helped him die young in our own way
Passive and aggressive on the stranger days
belts and paddles, blazing blue eyes on a titan's face
I could disappear from view without a trace
back then, just like today, no tears would stain my face

some things can't be erased
lift the mask from your face
that battle has been lost, you can't change who you are
it isn't worth the fight

dodging brow beatings and chugging down my pride
shot down mill town streets became a battle site
I became a prairie wolf of alleyways
We took in each forgotten son that hid their face
Every scar he gave me seems to resonate
as lessons learned the hard way by a recalcitrant
wisdom comes in spades to privileged debonairs
some of us, we head butt fists before we learn

fight for your life
grasp small things light
bleed your heart dry
open your eyes
before you ask why
bleed your heart dry

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