1. |
Mr. Born Yesterday
03:09
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Did you not check out the single when we released it?
No?
Then go fuck yourself.
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2. |
Castles
03:10
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I never wore a crown on my head
They always looked a little funny
Didn't offer much protection
Didn't cover up this mug
I got no peripheral vision
I get manipulated
moved in ill-shaped circles
by the softest hands with the electric touch
Cold postulation
I played my turn wrong
I missed the mark again
I always knew I'm not the one
I guess I hoped this time I might've been
It's just so few of us are special
it's just so few of us can walk a straight line
She plays the game alone
With a stark intent on winning
Crush the pieces into diamond dust
If the pre-conceived moves bow out and castle up
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3. |
Spare Change
02:15
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Memory Lane is lined with gold
rosy-red just like electric koo-laid injected to the brain
What have I become?
What have I become?
Watered down and dumb
sitting on my thumb
Memory Lane when you're alone
Is lined with weeds and grass and concrete under other people's feet
Filled with food stamps shame
Unemployment pay
I'll bring you down with me
I brought you down with me
I did it all so wrong
And then I dragged you along the way
I did it all so wrong.
Memory Lane's in disrepair
Potholes and faded lines and cracked concrete and burnt down houses
Playing games with death
Beating on my chest
Concussed and wetted brain
Vision goes black again
Trying to speak outside of prose
I find it hits a little too hard on the big fat liar's nose
I wanna walk away
I wanna run away
I've never walked away
I've never ran away
I wish that I could change.
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4. |
Garbage People
02:03
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Black and white characters making booming sounds
Yelling at my eyes from their caverns underground
Talking heads will rattle on and on
But without the courage to face the angry mob
Tapping glowing rectangles, talking with their thumbs
Buzzing wasps form stingless clouds, vapid, limp, and dumb
The drone, it rattles on and on
The countless pixels can't support any weight
The mad reach out in vain
it slips right through their hand
no point pierces their palm
it's already wiped clean
it's already wiped clean
it's already wiped clean
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5. |
Candiru Stomp
02:12
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Take a long walk off a short syphilis and glass filled pit
I hope you get covered in legions and get shards up where you shit
I hope you fucking die
Sit and spin on an auger bit for fun
you're a giant fucking asshole, so you might as well have one
I hope you fucking die
I wouldn't blink an eye
I can't remember the last time I just felt at ease
I can't run and I can't hide
these thoughts build up inside
I want to skin your ugly fuckin' hide
Just go away
I hope a candiru swims up your huge butthole and chode
and when it expands itself your dick and ass explode
I hope you fucking cry
and eat some dogshit pie
I hope Edmund Kemper is your roommate down in Hell
and he only eats Chipotle in your small one person cell
so go and fucking rot
I think that's all I've got
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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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