1. |
Greek Gods
02:59
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when the truth comes out
with such serendipity (amen)
such serendipity
saved by the sound of the sea
i caught a fever knee-deep in a whiskey dream
still beggin’ for the feeling not to leave
oh silk-screen savior smile on me
i’m putting my gold in the good book
they say you can’t be saved by the streets
the wise ones never sell their saviors they stay
safe and silent with their soles on their feet
we’ve earned our place here
televangelistic apathy
only god can protect your children from the
faith that you chose for them to believe
god damn, the virgin mary slept with uncle sam
god damn, we’re turnin’ tricks inside the promised land
no, we are not from the fucking south
we’re not a notch on the bible belt
yeah, i have all i need in my reach
even six feet deep let the sea tie my feet to the great barrier reef
stuck here on our third song when i’m too drunk
and i can’t stand the fine lines between fiat funds,
our false gods, and our fake tans
our daily dance for dollars is a dirty dance
let’s give a hand for greek gods
who earn an honest living as whores
we swim slowly through our government coverup scams
and make apostles of the cast of jersey shore
we will collapse ‘neith the weight of this
we have no freedoms just finances
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2. |
Hot And Bothered
02:51
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i’m addicted to the rhythm of my nervous system
and the way it sways like the sea
i’ve given up my love for a one way ticket or a pickup truck
i’m addicted to dry land, my friend
and the way it held me and said;
“i can be your rock, or i can be your god”
you can turn a wise man into a witch doctor
a harlot to a queen
a lifestyle to a ball and chain
a drug to a human being
N-A-R-C-I-S-S-I-S-T
baby, what the fuck have you done for me?
i know it works for the girls on TV, please
we took the ego but we gave up integrity
i am not the 8th world wonder
this lightning strikes the same time as the thunder
drag your dreams to the docks
and hold your hands to the sky
do you wonder?
mr. philosopher
i’ve gone under
please tell me you weren’t just wasting my time
dear retired psychiatrist; i am not the 8th world wonder
my body’s rusted
tell me which doctor to see
i can’t be trusted
tell me which doctor to see
well i know that i’m living in the body of a beast
beauty ain’t skin deep
i know that you can’t make love to the sea
but i’ll try my best
i know that i’m swimmin’ in the belly of the beast
but it’s just ankle deep
and i know god’s people live in the east.
or was it the west?
which doctors the witch doctor?
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3. |
Balenciaga
03:40
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this ain’t no watered down date-rape rock song
talkin about your cash and caviar
are you waiting for me to fucking tell you what you already know anyway?
wipe that smile off your face, son
this place has more land than love
this place is heaven
we got used to one white leather glove
we’ll get used to the selling
a passage too hard to swallow laying on a mattress
screaming “this can’t be real” as god fumbles with the matches
the kings, and the queens
the dirtiest dreams of the prettiest things
just listen, we need to make the best of the lives that we’re living
and to whom we’re selling our time
we’ve got the greed that kills
the expectations they build
now i’m killing all my pain with prescription pills
i’m living for the lottery pack; my bags for the rapture and wait
i have built myself a home of credit card bills and touchscreen phones
i’m living for the lottery; pack my bags for the rapture and wait
i won’t fucking die with my arms crossed nodding my head
lord knows that our dignity is already dead
it really isn’t sinking in yet?
lord knows our sincerity is already dead
delicate states, we treat our sweatshops like bakeries
is really isn’t sinking in yet?
it really isn’t sinking in yet, is it?
why don’t we go pay the devil a visit and get someone else on our side?
i’m living for the lottery; pack my bags for the rapture and wait
i’ve seen fortune without fame
i’m living for the lottery; pack my bags for the rapture and wait
drive-by killers with golden hearts live in million dollar estates
we are not the first generation misled
by the time we’re done playing our urgency is already dead
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4. |
Homewrecker
04:15
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an unintentional mutiny
beauty lies under pavement
lady luck is in industry; murder suspect but giving no statement
i will believe what you tell me because i used to tape my dreams prime time on the tv screen
am i getting out of hand?
i’m convinced that the last ten years wasn’t just bad luck
a well mannered, tall, dark, handsome machine; all dressed up with no one to force-fuck
oh, what a shocker, couldn’t see this on the news
i’ve been cooped up in my room with new shoes and the west yorkshire blues
look past the autotune and save some tones for the sages
we’re swallowed by a world made of free porn and facebook pages
no, i don’t work for the man
i work for my weed
rather listen to the trees than a liar on a plasma screen
so just breathe, and be everything you can be
the fuck is half the fun but it’s not the half you need
my son, don’t forget that you’re holding what’s close to you
and learn to accept that there are walls you can’t see through
oh my gods, the sons of politicians with pajamas on
i can’t believe that i’ve fallen away from you
anger and jealousy, the walls that you can’t see through
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5. |
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i’ve been led to the waters edge while girls with sledgehammers fetch the bills i’ve left unpaid
they say water is your punishment for stealing from our parliament
but i swear that the cheques in the mail
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6. |
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price-fixed, meet sick. comparing our cards and accomplishments
we say this is it, the life of best fit. so show me your fucking soul
all the people i know i know
the end of days, we’re learning to swipe before turning a page
the human race has beginners luck, fuck
prosthetic prosperity
price fixed, meet sick. comparing our cards and accomplishments
we say this is it, the life of best fit
just stay alive. just stay awake.
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7. |
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there ain’t no sunshine for the sons of corporate thieves
they’ve molded your mind to walk in the exodus down to wallstreet
no paradise to come
we failed to see the paradise as it always was
lucifer, you’ve got us wrong honey
you’re not here for our souls, no
you’re here for our money
i’ve got a face for radio and a voice for war
and i’ve seen the best and worst of wedding rings
and how nothings in stone until the fat nations sing:
“oh officer officer i swear i saw the whole thing”
we must lose grip on failed systems, we cling
but it takes time to build a fire
grow popstars in jam jars
funded, uninspired
i’m sick of placebos, remakes, and prequel
we dance to the dubstep disease
i don’t know much but i’ve seen enough of this world
to know that lifes what you make it
one of a kind, or one of many?
i don’t know much but i’ve seen enough
to know that life gets harder the harder you fake it
there is more than one way to skin a city
there is more than one way to call a bluff
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8. |
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a blue collar choir
a chorus of crack fiends
fuck what we’re told these are worthless semantics
we’ve labeled them as magazines
we’re all in this room to find something we can feel
and we all sail the seas for the keys to success in 10 easy steps
i’m fucking scared of the next 60 years
and jealous of those who are not
of those who are not
the soul we sought
we all sound the same
still looking for the shape of punk to come that came but never stayed
oh, the fathers of fashion list the music of mannequins
the pricetags on passionless
if you’re passionless then get the fuck out the door
so here’s the forecast
for the state of these songs in a week
our mouths move a soulless sound
but we never speak
it’s all to impress record label execs in 10 easy steps
are they living in lies or living in luxury?
fucked up or fancy?
fictions, phantoms or fantasy?
got the chills and the shakes
the first time i heard great lakes
just be proud of the noise that you make
be proud of the noise that you make
and don’t compromise cause real honesty is hard to come by
don’t compromise real honesty
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9. |
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so it goes, she’d always leave you for a billionaire
he says i don’t give my my my love away
he’ll die as broke as me
yeah we all die broke and alone eventually
your system is fucking rigged
but in the end, so is everything
god has a great sense of humor and calls himself entropy
we built the sons of success
and they will drown in their pools of excess
he must have been a go getter
he must have been a go getter, in his day
dead men made into dead letters
they’ve paid off the man in the front row to say
halleluja, i’m saved
can’t look you in your fucking face
we’re all liars these days
so kneel to your master
so kneel to your fucking master
fear the hand that you’re feeding from
love or lack of love
someday we decide which one we’re more proud of
jot a eulogy down on your fat fucking paystub
oh that’s classic
we’re all wearing a mask,oh fan-fucking-tastic
the birth of ghost-written hardcore? thats classic
you marry the man you don’t marry the magic
you don’t marry the magic
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