1. |
White Girl, Wasted
02:54
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Sarah moved to New York City. She wanted to be the next Bukowski, chain smoke and slam a typewriter in a shitty Williamsburg apartment. She’s read on the road three or four times, she knows all about meter and terminal. She got drunk one night and took the full moon as a sign to get out of this town while she was still alive.
She’s a city girl with suburban roots, spending three hundred dollars on cowboy boots, organic coffee and painted on jeans, vintage records and amphetamines. Her dad saw The Ramones in the 70’s and wants his daughter to be living free, but sometimes your memories are way too close, makes it way too hard to see. And that check it comes to week to week.
Now she took a vow of poverty to find the true meaning of art. Stealing sugar packs from the cafeteria, she figures it’s a pretty good start. And she dresses like a bum, figure she will get some pity because of her age. She thinks it’s a good case study, but there’s no glory being cold and begging for change.
Good times turn to shit. Beatnik dreams turn to desk jobs pretty quick. You know what they say is true-you do a pretty good impression of you.
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2. |
Trickle Down Alcoholics
02:40
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A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin. A little bit of gin ain't no sin.
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3. |
Booze Clues
02:49
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Passed out in the front seat of a Ford Econoline. Had the keys in my pocket so the cops couldn’t say that it was a crime. I know it’s true we went cruisin’ for a boozin’ but today it all feels a little confusing. I went looking for trouble and found it with a flick of the wrist.
We crashed the frat part and invited ourselves to the beer. None of these college bros have the balls to kick us out of here. But it was all my fault, should have never mixed in the Beam. Woke up in Providence (Rhode Island), without my jeans. I try to be good but it’s just so hard to resist.
I ain’t proud of this. Another swing and a miss. You know I never heeded temptation until I tasted that whiskey on your lips, and I ain’t proud of this.
I tried to walk home, but I must’ve got lost. Now I’m in a stranger’s house listening to “Gypsy Punks” and doing Svedka shots. Now it’s Mission Hill, 6AM, can’t find my phone and don’t know where. Got a ripped up coat and pants all covered in piss, and I ain’t proud of this.
Today I’ll do my best not to puke at work. I don’t remember what you said to me but I know it hurt. Now the coffee ain’t helping, just making me sick, and I smell like smoke and look like shit, and I sit and think of someone I shouldn’t miss.
And I ain’t proud of this.
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4. |
Bon Voyage
04:51
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They called it a crime, a misadventure. You were playing drums in the band and it was all alright, but now it's time to break up or find a replace.
And all the lights went low in hell that night.
Maybe Alistair knew something when he put you in that car on Overhill. Everyone was doing smack back in the green room, just a touch too much and it will catch right up to you.
Those bagpipes sound mighty lonely now. You can take the king, bury him with the crown.Those bagpipes sound mighty lonely now.
It's a long a way to the top, but such a short way down.
You just wanted to make the ceiling colapse. Make it loud, make it drunk, and god make it fast. All the booze and the sex and the blood, they might be the only things I love.
Those bagpipes sound mighty lonely now......
but if you want blood...........................................
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