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Summer Gang Demos

by pretty.party

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1.
Thanksgiving 03:58
the constable knows me better than my dad fastest trial that I ever had we burned the bridges to our grandma's houses but we still wade across for holidays I hope someday I get to hear my grandkids say We'll call soon and thanksgiving's only 12 months away I wanna be better than my heritage try going places my name hasn't been we'll send you postcards from the gates of hell "the weather's great, the kids are doing swell" I wonder what you wondered when you first saw me we'll call soon and thank god thanksgiving's twelve months away and a courtroom is a sheriff's breakfast nook obey what your mother says or she'll tell your father and he might come back tomorrow so you listen in the kitchen for the handcuffs on his belt Jingling, just to remind you; at least you've still got hands
2.
Ground 0.2 04:07
Don't look up too long; it might fall on you Pick up what's said and done; Ground0.2 A drinkin' man spends half his time gathering the pieces The other half he spends drinking Gone to find his lover in New Orleans and it would seem She's at her parent's house, cell phone in hand, just waiting patiently There's no one new around you and it would seem your thumbs have come across all that there is to see see you in an hour, maybe two, maybe three but know he's comin' soon, so don't you move, you didn't in your dreams Chase him to the next coast another city by the sea where all the other girls are single file putting on their faces some of us spend some of 5-9 working on our thesis most of us spend most of 9-5 with our friends drinkin'
3.
Cotton 02:59
take me to the water I want to be baptized take me to the water I feel the need to forgive myself again my mom got a second job 'cause the boss she had at home was a dick-head 'cause the kids she had at home were both dick-deads all dickheads My skin is the color of cotton my kin made their money from cotton if you'd forgotten; all your money's woven cotton
4.
gg allin's funeral and jesus' resurrection mom scored some albuterol she's great at lung protection i'll die by the time I'm your age the kids are making meth out of the gifts they got for christmas kids all sleep in mangers they gave up their beds for lent this year they know who owns those damn beds anyway they don't keep receipts for anything Ink-on-paper-property the nausea increased Needles in the street still shimmer holy ‘cause they’re free We'll die by the time we get to one one decade from now I'll be as old as my dad was when my mom made good on their deal and gave his name to her first son I've got nine cigarettes left until this morning's pack is done Probly have less than eight by time the humans finish lunch seven for the seven-five was never quite enough to keep that six month southern summer lit call "neighbor" if you don't want fifth hit quarters at the grocery for forties for the fortunate try to work three jobs at least the pressure's on a little bit work to feed the wife and me look out for number one and shit gg allin's funeral and hold the resurrection sometime between now and then I might learn what to do with affection inherently valueless though I'm made from the same shit as diamonds if I'd been crucified once I would likely live out my second chance hiding My parents left for the weekend my brother's throwing a party I won't invite ya to my party You're not invited to my party
5.
Fists 03:02

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released August 21, 2015

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