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2:29 | 
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
times have changed and the change of time's slow going my ramble tamble's still in tact, though and i've got plenty of guts still showing all along the levy where we just sat and sometimes drank one the weeds are growing over all of out summer days long gone (chorus) just take me to the riverbank with no clouds in the sky and if you do, i won't give my thanks but i'll stay there till i die i've grown and shedded some i've shed the ones i used to care for it seems they're all long dead and gone but they're still up to the same chores along the endless streets that are now breeds of walking feet that i just don't have time for (chorus) now i start to save my time pack my things and say goodbye unsatisfied and anxious now i want to blow away from here just take me to the riverbank just take me to the riverbank where waters run like some mistake and i can make my history.. (Koski)
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2:03 | 
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| from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004) | |||||
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2:08 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
One I was younger than
The youngest of fragile minds I ate the day with bad manners Then spit out the rind And mother told me As I looked to the sky Yes my mother told me "My dear son, You're not the one" I flew from home when I was just twenty-one Young enough to be the feather of someone I've got a conch pissed with conch republic rum My father by my side, teary-eyed, he said: "Son, by god what I could have done, And you're just like me, You can really put 'em down oh if I was in your place I'd stay, have fun But I??짝??????짝 not the one" Now I'm sitting here Haggling over sums Of money made by someone else To me it don't belong I toss a smile to the mighty boss He's my God But I'm a bit backwards And I know he's just a fucking dog. |
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2:19 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
the place is empty except for the stationary bottles of whisky and bar stools still standing concussion heads ache from a blissful evening of confusion, muttered speech from too much drinking the cars are idling near out of gas and lifeless like the people standing persuaded by the temptress cut up and cunning the brute keeps going nobody caring for the chaos he's arousing always a step to go, a step to go a step to go too far seems like the only steps taken are in the wrong direction but we keep stepping on each other breaking each rung on the ladder always a step to go a step to go a step to go much further persistent rhythms clutter disperse then come together to discuss the times they hung up on the clothesline in bad weather the television whines and tells us different sides of things that we don't care about taking up our time the road ends short with malice no road maps to direct us so we come up one step short of satisfaction always a step to go, a step to go (Koski)
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2:45 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
You've got to follow your traces because I've seen so many familiar faces unfinished races stolen bases fallen graces all laced up, but pitfallen the community heals while my eyes are still swollen my friends have picked up their paces while I'm still tying my laces they're acting gracious with my patience my fallen graces
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2:24 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
I took so many roads to find you
Full of dead ends and one way streets It took some luck just to get near you I like to believe it was destiny Come to me, mine I've so many things to show you Come to me, mine There's so much I have to tell you My heros have fallen, been abandoned I'd rather walk in my own shoes Most of my idols have just vanished Cleared Dusty shelves for something new Come to me, mine Follow the light that I left shining Come to me, mine Accept all that I am offering I took so many drugs to see you But ended up staring at my feet Took up with derelicts and toyed with manipulation and conceit My days are numbered, as are your, dear We're all aboard a stinking ship I'm making all I can of mine, love I'm giving all that I can give Come to me, mine I'm making all I can of mine, love Come to me, mine I'm giving all that I can give you, love |
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2:42 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
I took so many roads to find you
Full of dead ends and one way streets It took some luck just to get near you I like to believe it was destiny Come to me, mine I've so many things to show you Come to me, mine There's so much I have to tell you My heros have fallen, been abandoned I'd rather walk in my own shoes Most of my idols have just vanished Cleared Dusty shelves for something new Come to me, mine Follow the light that I left shining Come to me, mine Accept all that I am offering I took so many drugs to see you But ended up staring at my feet Took up with derelicts and toyed with manipulation and conceit My days are numbered, as are your, dear We're all aboard a stinking ship I'm making all I can of mine, love I'm giving all that I can give Come to me, mine I'm making all I can of mine, love Come to me, mine I'm giving all that I can give you, love |
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1:28 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
good intentions shattered by conventions
traditionalized and bland with boredom searched over and feared of HATRED IS THE CURSED HABIT OF THE HARDEST WORKING MAN i'll take a drink to this and a good smoke to clear my head i'm not a criminal i'm at times quite honest i'm not some scrawny knave i'd say i'm almost brave punching in is punching out of courage doing what you're told and holding back your dreams for an awful, dead-end burden DENIAL IS THE LOYAL VICE OF THE HARDEST WORKING MAN i'll fight 'em down to bits and fuck their dirty tricks and i'll always finish last (Koski) |
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2:36 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
I've been back now for a day or two, at best and i'm punishing myself for taking the rest i've been in slumber and in splendor in my house with beer and whiskey, my new son and spouse well, they've welcomed me with open arms and handshakes at family get-togethers and at bars i've a massive gift collection in my pantry bottles of wine, dead drying roses and cheap cigars. Now i'm back to every day to the songs i have to play to the roads along the way all the people in the fray no more family or home 'cause my home is not my own got to get up and away to another day and place. I'm a speck in the collective minds of millions nothing but a pawn in my own twisted game i've a good mind to fuck off and finally leave it get an office job and settle with the dust and stains but she gives me reason to go and give it to them shovel the shit from drunken ramblings and perversions if i'm not laughed out of the ring then i've succeeded in bringing to some poor sap my new distractions. Now i'm feeling tame taut, detached and lame like a tired old cliche give me all the blame no more smiles or frowns just leave me blackened out amid familiar shouts i'll take the same old route. Misdirection leads me to it blindly maps and border crossings greet me kindly my bones are splinters used for extra kindling for the godsthat hover up and around me, laughing. |
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2:01 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
Well we're all gone good-bye see you so long
And you're so young and glad to see us move on When the day's long and the moon just stares you down notice your shoes are dirty when your heart's on the ground As sure as I'm down With my knees to the ground As sure as forgotten and never been found Never been so bored Brickwalled on a bank holiday And not looking forward Tomorrow's dour as a petty wage Line up those whiskeys while rotting on remand It's like me to drown my sorrows Sitting here I'm taking a stand As sure as I'm down With my knees to the ground And sure as forgotten and never been found I'm down |
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2:44 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
A train sounds off with whistle blowing
Lighthouse horn sounds early warning Clean cool air with stars out shining Overcoat and whiskey drinking Hands locked tight and close together These nights are bliss in drunken leisure Spitting air in gusts as it gets cooler Spase clouds try to come together You can feel the chill and bid farewell As you start leaving Sounds like an evening The cars thin out on empty streets no traffic jams to make you weak Shopkeepers leave, at home they speak Of good patrons and of cash and thieves The wind is gaining ground on you The air turns damp with seaside dew But it don't lie, it tells the truth And all is well and all is new Your west side is a teenage waiting Los Angeles a childhood haze Like steps to nowhere you sit there gazing At friends you've lost through years of forgetting time sells you short of all you're wanting Though you don't know just what you're seeking Except winter nights and cigarettes And boozing with the best of them |
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2:09 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
off all the blessed intervals that defined ourselves as one i may remember only the last, as it's the interval you won i've thought about it and i just don't know (don't know quite where to go) i've been trying to relax, but i can't remember how (a bit of rest is what i need now)
(chorus) i've been a sailor, but a sailor who has never left his land who's tried to occupy an unstable mind with ridiculous daydreams now come the testing times where i dip my small toe in though the deepest waters freeze, if i jump in i'll be free i'm all alone, and that's just as well (Without you facts do tell) fond whispers of unfound secrets, i still can't hear them, so pray tell (chorus) i can't accept it, (i'm a beached sailor) cause i don't understand it (i'm a beached sailor) i'm lying here stranded, (i'm a beached sailor) like a beached sailor (Koski) |
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2:32 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
He was spoken to just to be put down. He was 22 when helped off the ground. Beaten black and blue when his color was brown and shining shoes in a dirty town. (Chorus) The bigots barely outnumber my regrets (in the month of May) as I float around like shit in the Bay. The bigot's barrel just another white male melee (it's just another fucking windy day)
He's free to choose but his choices are few. The rope is loose but it's tied in a noose. He prays to God in the back of the church pews. They won't pass the plate to the blacks or the jews. (Chorus) She's feeling free until "he" gets a free feel. A reeling plea in machismo battlefield. "I'm up to my neck in the rawest of raw deals. While I'm choking on the B.C. pill" (Chorus) "I know the rules to know that they're confused and wrong. I'd read my rights it wouldn't take too long. I'll take an inch, no more is offered to a pawn. I wasn't asked, I will respond!" (Bonnel/Wickersham) |
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3:39 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Brazen Head EP (1999)
Only passing thoughts of times long gone, tonight 9000 miles away I hear your songs, but I - I seek the comfort of the bottle and then I let my mind to wander to the face that I knew and to the places that I went with you
You told me all your stories through the trebled din but I haven't finished drinking so please tell them all again The brazen head, you overwhelm me with the powers of an ancient spell old and the new, they come around to spend their time with you ten years I dreamed about you now I haven't had a drink without you a toast for those who've passed and to the rest let's finish off the glass Well, let me tell you about how I've sinned and all the places that I've been all the battles that I've lost and all scars that I've caused 'cause if there's one thing that I know it's that all these people they come and go so that is all and that was then but I'll come back and do it again I just wanna have you close to me Twenty-three (Huber) |
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4:53 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
you can't believe your children you can't believe your wife, you can't take the credit fucking up your life, some people don't believe me when i tell them "i'm alive" they see me walking so slowly they think i'm too uptight (Chorus) it's a catastrophe such a strange way to live well let me try a new strategy i'll try and make it work i'll take myself away and get out of the dirt (Koski)
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4:27 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
you can't believe your children you can't believe your wife, you can't take the credit fucking up your life, some people don't believe me when i tell them "i'm alive" they see me walking so slowly they think i'm too uptight (Chorus) it's a catastrophe such a strange way to live well let me try a new strategy i'll try and make it work i'll take myself away and get out of the dirt (Koski)
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1:35 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
Come On!
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2:05 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
The first time I met you
was up on the hill with tequilla on Tuesday and roses in well You gave me a kiss As strong as the winds That swirl through the lots of China basin I stood and I stared At the brass of St. Mary Where the beggers are more likely wishing then praying Heard the gamblers Rushing the gates of bay meadows or was it the beating Of hearts in the ghettos Give me your heart and take my ring, love Give me your heart And break this string, love I've plenty of room for improvement, you see and many a fool Fake this thing called love I stood and I stared at the cemetary stones Dead flowers, bottles, Bluegrass and bones Smelled the signs of the mourner the shit from the dogs the rains and the tears in the interment bogs So I strolled through the day until boredom was dawn with the gulls in the garbage singing along where the boats in the harbor have nothing to say about the fish and the shit that float in the bay If I see you again It will be up on the hill with tequilla on Tuesday and roaches to kill We'll be crying and drunk or laughing and stones For Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass and bones |
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1:57 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
I'm flying off the handle again, i tried to keep in touch but my grip had loosened. The saints need a second look. I'm at the boreal banquet keeping warm boozin'. Derailed - i need help. God save the Queen i fucked up the ant trail. Derailed - i've been nailed. Keep falling off the cross the crucifixion failed. I'm stepping all over my friends. I tried to dodge the bullet but i'm a needy person. I need to get back on track. The pub's stoop pill pusher gave me pills to stop pushin'. Derailed - i need ale. To numb the pain and relax in hell. Derailed - i wanna kill. At the embarcadero on the third rail. Derailer is my friend. Then again, i am him. Derailer died for our sins, or was it just another drinking binge. I'm in a different kind of tension. Not to be discussed by professional theory. It's been going on for quite some time. Derailer gets by there's no need to worry. (Bonnel/Wickersham)
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2:10 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998) | |||||
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2:26 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Metal guitars in every town
White rap and DJ's, hard and loud You slice through strange air The new icon in eden Clueless and arrogant A beast of no real burden All of your answers pose as questions As per the rules and regulations You're allowed to fuck the world And still get to fuck the girl So content with being average As all the kids finger your curls And now Your place in life Is to bow down Not to ask why Just shut your mouth give it to them and do or die Your future never was so bright 'Cause you never were the sharpest knife You've had the time of your life With more cash than you can carry And those sleeves not six months old Tell tall tales of your story Polluted air filled with your sound You're all big package and low brow Bridges, Barbed wire, and mirrored walls You've built yourself into it all You spend your precious time Perfecting every line Pratice your pretension Because they buy it every time |
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2:12 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Metal guitars in every town
White rap and DJ's, hard and loud You slice through strange air The new icon in eden Clueless and arrogant A beast of no real burden All of your answers pose as questions As per the rules and regulations You're allowed to fuck the world And still get to fuck the girl So content with being average As all the kids finger your curls And now Your place in life Is to bow down Not to ask why Just shut your mouth give it to them and do or die Your future never was so bright 'Cause you never were the sharpest knife You've had the time of your life With more cash than you can carry And those sleeves not six months old Tell tall tales of your story Polluted air filled with your sound You're all big package and low brow Bridges, Barbed wire, and mirrored walls You've built yourself into it all You spend your precious time Perfecting every line Pratice your pretension Because they buy it every time |
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2:43 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000) | |||||
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1:41 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
I'm just a living abortion
Trying to live my life, trying to make some fun Walking down the street, people think I'm dead Gonna eat their brain with a piece of bread Elation Elation Elation I'm just a walking abortion Walking down the street, people think I'm dead Momma told me to beware of the man Who comes a knockin with a vacuum in his hand Elation Elation Elation I'm just looking for some action I'll be your dog you'll catch your death I'll get you in your bed I'm just a walking infection Stumbling around with a bullet in my head |
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3:13 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
Look at my face turn it around I'm the invisible man I'm the expletive deleted
Give me my suit hand me my tie flash me a smile I'm the expletive deleted take off my facial expression give me lines to say without reason I'm an incredible sight an average obsession a beautiful dream with perfect discretion |
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4:13 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Look at my face turn it around I'm the invisible man I'm the expletive deleted
Give me my suit hand me my tie flash me a smile I'm the expletive deleted take off my facial expression give me lines to say without reason I'm an incredible sight an average obsession a beautiful dream with perfect discretion |
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2:14 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
drinkin beers in the pouring rain Dupont circle summer again jackin' wheels just for fun i was only 13 watch your step but it's always the same your always down and he's always goin' away learned a lot about the things you love to this day
now i never want to walk alone and i never want to see the sun come up and its all because of you i never want to feel the pain i never gonna feel the same again and its all for the memory of you Black suit yeah the music is life wait before you burn out the rest of the night max revenge was the name we laughed at in the school yard blood shot eyes yeah my moms always cryin' she says "your friend is dyin" what about the plans we made for the next day! I know you may be right i know its not my life i know it was the right thing to do I don't take the call i went and let my best friend fall and i hope it was the right thing to do. (Huber) |
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1:56 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
Five lovely lessons learned today
Coating my throat with the dust of a new day As the saints pray their lonely way And their deadweight lays the passion to waste Maybe if I sew my heart on my sleeve They'll drop the bomb on me and I'll wake up I can only fix so much in my sleep I can only drink so much from this empty cup I know I must not think bad thoughts I'm always beaten to the punch I'm holding aces high and low And in between I'm trying to break my fall Give me a piece of what you've got I'll make it new with much less thought it's symbolic and full of trash Lofty endearments whispered under your breath Five lessons remembered from yesterday Easing my mind and seizing each new day Beyond and back I??짝??????짝 still the same Kicked over some old trash but I still waste |
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1:55 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Five lovely lessons learned today
Coating my throat with the dust of a new day As the saints pray their lonely way And their deadweight lays the passion to waste Maybe if I sew my heart on my sleeve They'll drop the bomb on me and I'll wake up I can only fix so much in my sleep I can only drink so much from this empty cup I know I must not think bad thoughts I'm always beaten to the punch I'm holding aces high and low And in between I'm trying to break my fall Give me a piece of what you've got I'll make it new with much less thought it's symbolic and full of trash Lofty endearments whispered under your breath Five lessons remembered from yesterday Easing my mind and seizing each new day Beyond and back I??짝??????짝 still the same Kicked over some old trash but I still waste |
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2:44 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Brazen Head EP (1999)
I want to tell you how its been but I'm not too sure about it myself I've tried to call time and time again but I misdialed, then stopped myself now I feel like I'm on trial for the inconvenience
I caught the train in a downtown rain and I swear I saw your face as I peered out through the window's stains I swear I saw your face I'm not waiting for the world to grab me by the balls and hold until I surrender weeping I suppose I could say I've missed your ways and I wish that we could meet again someday I know its not a crime to wait but I ain't standing here forever The lighthouse sits as an attraction for tourists it's been out of work for years, it seems I think its a bed and breakfast it's automated, been reconstructed no storied old man working in it I'm just looking for it all I'm not trying to hide it I'm just looking for my own and anything to keep thats sacred I'll just stick around and wait for some kind of judgement day (Koski) |
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2:53 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
The fascists and their many guises
Anarchists and their fantasizing It seems sometimes they're sailing the same boat Politicians mesmerizing throngs of automated souls As some similar psycho's screwing on the scope I'm leaving town To join sophisticates in my head We'll have our fun playing the hypocrite critic And when all the creatures in their palaces are crushed I can safely say "I'm coming home" Fairy tales and fruitless fortunes Acquired from some sad story teller Can sometimes be enough to keep me mum in my keep Organ grinders orating overtures of madness As the heinous hipster's spending his unearned currency There may be many ways of reaching the same plateau I'll take the road less traveled If it looks like it ain't been sold The chains around my neck won't break But at least they're made of solid |
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3:54 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
The fascists and their many guises
Anarchists and their fantasizing It seems sometimes they're sailing the same boat Politicians mesmerizing throngs of automated souls As some similar psycho's screwing on the scope I'm leaving town To join sophisticates in my head We'll have our fun playing the hypocrite critic And when all the creatures in their palaces are crushed I can safely say "I'm coming home" Fairy tales and fruitless fortunes Acquired from some sad story teller Can sometimes be enough to keep me mum in my keep Organ grinders orating overtures of madness As the heinous hipster's spending his unearned currency There may be many ways of reaching the same plateau I'll take the road less traveled If it looks like it ain't been sold The chains around my neck won't break But at least they're made of solid |
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2:09 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Some sang their songs
like flying on uppers so sweet and smug that I lose my supper some mumble psalms of solace and virtue hang by their palms and choke on the cud they chew I'm glad we met So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour Love songs are cheap and only get cheaper They prey on the meek Who only get Meeker Cliches sung by stars Looks so good on paper Each bar fed to you A communion wafer I'm glad we met(so glad) So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour Don't even think of being average Cuz you're so much more to me than edequate I'm hanging on to every word you speak I'll burn the torch until you come to me I'm glad we met(so glad) So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour The time we spent(so glad) Was heaven sent Opened my eyes and stole my hours glad we met 8x |
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2:10 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Some sang their songs
like flying on uppers so sweet and smug that I lose my supper some mumble psalms of solace and virtue hang by their palms and choke on the cud they chew I'm glad we met So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour Love songs are cheap and only get cheaper They prey on the meek Who only get Meeker Cliches sung by stars Looks so good on paper Each bar fed to you A communion wafer I'm glad we met(so glad) So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour Don't even think of being average Cuz you're so much more to me than edequate I'm hanging on to every word you speak I'll burn the torch until you come to me I'm glad we met(so glad) So sad you left Sometimes the sweetest things turn sour The time we spent(so glad) Was heaven sent Opened my eyes and stole my hours glad we met 8x |
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2:19 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
Did you ask that man
On the corner for the time of day Did he shrug and glance at his wrist and say "Dunno, here you go" And hand you a fool's gold watch I should tell you some sacred stories Secret and confound But by God you tell me That's the point Go on and get your fortune told Give away your fortune You're fortunate enough to have one You're morally disconnected You seem to be a mistress or some forgotten wallflower The clich?of an old man's dreams The storybook disease In a rush to get out and leave Mister good for nothing Miss disease In need of heartache Beg now and then For a sin to appease Beg now and then for a sin to appease |
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2:57 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998) | |||||
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1:44 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
You reached for heaven at seventeen
And caught the clap from some teenage queen Took some tablets, hit it again and that's all right Sometimes you took the stacked deck too far Some say you took it all way too hard The mediocrity in moderation was way too tight Did you ever stop to think of what was real? Did you compromise your time just to cop a feel? Sometimes you think that the time flew by Some twenty years ago come July You're getting older but not so wise And that's all right You go for words that you cannot reach Spew antiseptic allegories a walking diuretic of dictionary rhymes Don't you even know your dreams are not for real Don't you ever find it hard to forge what you feel Just quit your bitching and confess the time of your life just came and went you're gonna drown in shallowness in the empty sea of frat boys and dunces You reached for Heaven at seventeen and caught the clap from some teenage queen woke up from your suburban daydream opened your eyes |
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0:56 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004) | |||||
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1:49 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
My bastard brother's hopeless vow
of leaving off to another town Has once again soaked deep into the cold and rotting ground He never shares his lovesick bed or listened to a word they said He hoards the beer and wine and bread Christ, I wish he were fucking dead Bury yourself in blame Drown yourself in flame Burn the bottle that beckons you to betroth yourself to shame give yourself a break Break the ones you hate Hate those that've fed off of you and your pathetic plate I've left it up to the gods above I don't believe in, ain't seen or heard from and nearly sick to death of this being neither ignorant nor in bliss with a family of parasites and feckless friends with shameless eyes all the endless miles caught up with me wearing the face of my own kind Bury yourself in blame Drown yourself in flame Burn the bottle that beckons you to betroth yourself to shame Yeah, jump that fuckin' train wed the goddamn stain live your life ina fuckin' cell be the martyr with no brain Step inside this room mind the open wounds cross yourself and carry on that claptrap may do you good |
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2:17 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
My bastard brother's hopeless vow
of leaving off to another town Has once again soaked deep into the cold and rotting ground He never shares his lovesick bed or listened to a word they said He hoards the beer and wine and bread Christ, I wish he were fucking dead Bury yourself in blame Drown yourself in flame Burn the bottle that beckons you to betroth yourself to shame give yourself a break Break the ones you hate Hate those that've fed off of you and your pathetic plate I've left it up to the gods above I don't believe in, ain't seen or heard from and nearly sick to death of this being neither ignorant nor in bliss with a family of parasites and feckless friends with shameless eyes all the endless miles caught up with me wearing the face of my own kind Bury yourself in blame Drown yourself in flame Burn the bottle that beckons you to betroth yourself to shame Yeah, jump that fuckin' train wed the goddamn stain live your life ina fuckin' cell be the martyr with no brain Step inside this room mind the open wounds cross yourself and carry on that claptrap may do you good |
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2:33 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004) | |||||
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3:27 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
10 AM yeah I just woke up
I can't clear my head Drank too much last night again I might as well be dead Well I'm just fuckin' lazy My whole life's makin' me crazy But I wouldn't give any of it Up even if you paid me We all get in my car turn up The stereo Gotta goto the Trocadero see Another fuckin' show Well I'm just fuckin' lazy My whole life's making me crazy But I wouldn't give any of it Up even if you paid me 'Cause all I want is feedback Yeah all I need is feedback All my time is poorly spent But it's all I can do To make it through I guess it's all right Staying at home Being with my friends But the only time I feel all right Is when I??짝??????짝 on stage again 'Cause I'm so fucking lazy And everybody's makin' me crazy And I should've givin it all up 'Cause they're never gonna pay me So all I want is feedback Yeah all I need is feedback All my time is so well spent And it's all I can do Yeah it's all I ever do To make it through |
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2:47 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Here's one for the tamed
Runners-up and losers of the game The tried and true, the tragic and the shamed The broken hearted, sad eyed, and unnamed You've given everything You've even sold yourself Damned yourself to hell for selling out You've always had it better than most anybody else With the brain and talent of yourself If you wanted to you'd be the man Make your way to the light where you began Gave your best through friends even sent a note to her own hand She regretted how it had to end And how much she missed me being her man She'd kept her feelings hidden out of sight and I felt wronged but she thought it right For so long I'd let my feelings shine in open light Like a shrine for hearts like mine If you want me to say it again You're my way to light, where I begin If you want me to Do what they do |
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1:45 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
Jackie Jab is looking fab. He's got a treble and a bass and a big tab. He's got oil in his hair from an arab and when he falls down, he falls smack dab. (Chorus) hey fellas, get him a cab, what's his name - jackie jab! Three square meals everyday, but nothing's square about the american way. his friends get off on Doris Day and he hasn't a clue what to say. (Chorus) hey fellas, get him a cab, what's his name - jackie jab! (Bonnel/Koski/Wickersham)
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2:11 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Jackie Jab is looking fab. He's got a treble and a bass and a big tab. He's got oil in his hair from an arab and when he falls down, he falls smack dab. (Chorus) hey fellas, get him a cab, what's his name - jackie jab! Three square meals everyday, but nothing's square about the american way. his friends get off on Doris Day and he hasn't a clue what to say. (Chorus) hey fellas, get him a cab, what's his name - jackie jab! (Bonnel/Koski/Wickersham)
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1:48 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
well, i've fallen from the grace of a dog whatcha gonna do? I'll scribble it down in my log i don't believe you! It wouldn't hurt to believe me well maybe just a little sting, clouds outside are rolling in right through my bolted door cold sweats are dampening me with their mediocre lore time spent in a welded life sealed tight shut like a lover's war i trusted you and took you in, but in the end you were like the rest you were just like them you were just like them "Them" Meaning the rotten end you were just like them now i'm in this purgatory of self-inflicted shame I trust non one Don't talk no more "hello, have a good day" my big frowns were smiles once but now i've changed my ways this human race is spotted with a cruel, colored disgrace, and you're just like them, yes, you're just like them no more apologies spent cause you're just like them (Koski/Bonnel)
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2:15 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
Hello again, you say to the folks at the E.D.D. you've been dire and disgusted and come in most every day to keep yourself alive you heave insults and forever curse the almighty fuckin' talisman that lives in the dirty church
And you keep running from yourself from everyone from each new day You never felt true pleasure or fell ill from real pain but you complain so consistently as if you've been betrayed and nothing's ever met the guidelines that you set for each new day and there's always something standing nonchalantly in your way To all the optimistic players you heave a sigh those loyalists keep counting on everything being worthwhile but you don't catch the light of day and you've been accused of carrying on this way see, you don't believe in preaching or praise you just want to barely make it through each time consuming day (Koski) |
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2:30 |
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from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998)
You're selfishness is horrid
And you're beauty is queen Puts the pain gut-wrenching And the grass a sickly green The troubles of youth Have got your hair in a mess And when you speak there's length in excess About your storm and stress Our love was never sacred Kept me figuring out what to do L-O-V-E, I hate you There's blood on the frosting When you cut the cake The meaning lies much deeper You're a big mistake Let me count the ways On the squirming centipede You'll never find what you're looking for With these insatiable needs Your passion is a pesticide The birds and bees are never in my trees You'll never find what you're looking for With these insatiable needs The trouble of youth Have got your hair in a mess When you speak There's a length in excess About your storm and stress (Bonnel) |
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2:53 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
My Accordion is shining
in the light of the moon from the sky And I sit here alone and drinking with the windows and doors open wide My hand got tired an hour ago and the words on each sheet turned blank white no, there's no room in the this house for your company, dear maybe tomorrow you can come inside The preacher's turned to dictation 'cause the lord has got letters to send There's nothing for me to believe in, either, I've just gone to trying to pretend And the rain is falling slowly like faltering drums outside and the weathermen are confused because they can never read the sky someday we may even be friends again and I hope just that thought is enough You're a weathered old prince and the state I'm in hopefully won't hurt our one night together that much Moon, shine, you're a lampshade For the drunken old bats and their evening Shine on, you'll forgive me For missing your last requiem I'm all alone this evening as I'm along almost every day and It's these sad-sack times that I miss them all but if they were here I'd wish them away If they'd send me a vase of flowers Or better yet those aborted hours Drunken hours of endless time left to die In everyone's memory but mine |
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1:51 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
the last of the daydreams have walked out the open door avoiding any problems they might've had with the social law well, i remember Tuesday and every last day of my life and i'll never forget anything that stays with me at night it's the last chance for pretenders to go and get things done it's the last chance for daydreamers to live what they dream of this child is walking slowly his head bent to the ground watching each step taken and his shoes, a dirty brown and he don;t want a companion, has got things to say, but don't wanna talk and i remember myself like him oh, i hope that he don't also fall
go and get your army boots, my son, my son go and get your music box, come on go and get your building blocks, my son it's time to set your sails, my boy, and run (Koski) |
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1:57 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
The grapes are ripped straight off the vine before ripe
The fifths are drank the eighths smolder in the pipe Complaints to celebrate are fathomed and condomed Such a fucked up state not just wired drunk and stoned This must be for someone else Debauchery must be for someone else Someone else For someone else The drapes are drawn to be ignored to be polite They stand to leave and can't stand to leave your side The walls were painted white now stained a color bone The calls are weak and faint holler into the phone This call must be for someone else This privacy must be for someone else Someone else For someone else Then I step into the room With plans to stay accept the doom I'm not about to lose my cool I'm just the lout to play the fool Leaves fall from the trees tangle in the rakes Leaves call out to me, "what angle to you take?" Leaves are glistening, glorious in the morning dew Leaves are listening flooring us with storied truths This must be for someone else Leaves of fate must be for someone else Someone else For someone For someone else |
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2:35 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Let your eyes promise me lies
Let your sigh be a sweet goodbye And never even write to me a letter I won't worry about tearful endeavors There was no reason to return I was told Nobody waiting for me to come back home nothing is left but the promise of praise Nothing remains No phone calls late at night of pictures a constant reminder no burning of inpassioned pages or returning them to sender you send a letter to the only one you can't deny will never send you a reply you never bother to sit back and ask yourself why Blinded by your own dim light Tried but devout Tortured the cherished loved the unheralded Bought up their trash Brought to my knees by beggars and braggarts washed my laced sleeves after each miscarriage You fill your pen and spill the words onto each line your monogram in wax seals another pathetic cry You're so romantic So cautious and tranquilized is there anything behind your eyes |
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2:25 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
To all of those with dead end jobs and dead end lives and loves to all dead weight with no cause at all all the predictable ones to the suit and to the peon to the drunk and the loved ones and to all the lonely and the meek. Let my thoughts and mind go and just let me slip away let me let go of my ego let me give it all away you can buy some if you want to as long as i don't have to stay i'll just give it to you little creeps and greet another day. You take them for a ride from station to destination like some bullet train of providence with no sense of direction you've been taken for a ride around a world just for your taking been tossed off and deemed pathetic and left to your own devices. Where do you want to go? To where the grass will always grow? Someplace where no one stops to stare anywhere but here anywhere but there. I like to taste the red red wine and celebrate temptation i'm that useless coin in the wishing well full of promise and great notions so full of pride and shit and passions all left to my discretion as the little creeps look on in awe taking notes and learning lessons. They asked me where i want to go i answer "nevermind" i've rambled in the cities and i've roamed the countrysides what's left is what i haven't seen or missed while dreaming in my sleep there's another side where the grass is green and void of little creeps. |
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2:04 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
i'm burning in this pit i dug myself in an hour ago and up around the corner lies that bastard pub's front door and in my many changing moods and on similar days i've cursed and spat mercilessly at the foot of her firkin grace chaos comes inevitably, like a monarch dressed in rags grinning like a maniac and splashing cider in my face
i'm going back to san francisco to be finally at ease as i've reached the heralded last rung and become a part-time London Drunk the Bristol Boys are lunatics but madness has its virtue they all smash their pints and feign legless fights because its what they're fucking used to one autumn night in Birmingham after the band had played we piled into that filthy van and got out of that place by half a mile or half a minute i was a sunken, bloated slag i puked up on the floorboards, my fucking jacket and pant-leg (Koski) |
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3:32 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
i'm burning in this pit i dug myself in an hour ago and up around the corner lies that bastard pub's front door and in my many changing moods and on similar days i've cursed and spat mercilessly at the foot of her firkin grace chaos comes inevitably, like a monarch dressed in rags grinning like a maniac and splashing cider in my face
i'm going back to san francisco to be finally at ease as i've reached the heralded last rung and become a part-time London Drunk the Bristol Boys are lunatics but madness has its virtue they all smash their pints and feign legless fights because its what they're fucking used to one autumn night in Birmingham after the band had played we piled into that filthy van and got out of that place by half a mile or half a minute i was a sunken, bloated slag i puked up on the floorboards, my fucking jacket and pant-leg (Koski) |
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2:56 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
i try to bless myself with boredom
but i still feel cursed and burdened every day is trying on me why, i can't say, why i can't just be there's always something missing still i can't find my place or will i keep on keepin' on the wheel like a lab-rat, sick and ill there's no tomorrow just endless sorrow give me an answer that i can borrow and give back to you some other day oh, if you would just show me the way i count the minutes, hours and days, dear the weeks out of months and into years, dear i've got so much left to give but for what do i really have to live effortless days that while away while i sit drinking in the shade all i want is to appreciate to get myself to that perfect place |
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2:21 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
now you can't help feelin' your the mother of the mad while market street's reelin in memory of the dead and capp street's greeting the tourists with good head you got your fix with the tricks that put you on your death bed life moves along and the trains are backing up and accidents will happen you can bet you're on then-judah put your pills in your coffee and liven up your cup cuz the mother of the mad needs the stimulant to love mother of the mad, sister of the sad brother of the bad and it's the only father you will ever have i was lost for words and the screams were curious i was giddy for the girls who found me hideous wishing for a world that would spin less furious because the money and time spent has become too obvious the lesson and the leash the leader and the led smith and wesson teach the bleeder to be bled reasons out of reach feeders overfed if you catch the mumbled speech the jargon's overhead
(Bonnel/Koski) |
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3:11 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Brazen Head EP (1999)
You could move faster you could move like you should (traffic on the bridges at bay) while the bitch and bastard has got you by the jewels (buried in the working day) and your motivation are the ones who could (the ones who do it in their own way) devastation floats in your gene pool (your father's proud 'cause you earned your pay)
You're a do-er you're a do-on fuck the world drop the neutron you're a mover you're a moron You're the cops and clip coupons Police are apathetic to protect and serve (the housing plan's provided) your friends and family get what they deserve (classes remain divided) the priest is praying for losing faith in the world ('cause everyone was invited) sticking to your guns 'cause you ain't got the nerve (and the N.R.A. are delighted) only the criminal knows how the criminal fits in (your kids know how to bitch and moan) cram them in the cells and they'll learn how to bend (because their generation's prone) a diamond in the rough to a nickel in the fen (more than one in the telephone) unjust is not the cuff its the truncheon's other end (and who receives the broken bones) its new year's eve, half past eleven (Dick out in the tenderloin) the rain's coming down like pennies from heaven (the cops say there's no such coin) bullets in the clouds from 357s (stay out of Hunter's Point) every new year a new deadly lesson (and two of mother's dead little boys) (Bonnel/Koski) |
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2:23 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
pick up the lines between your eyes grow up and get yourself to feeling younger longing for the sunshine waiting for an early rise won't it just shame you? shall i stop and blame you? no one's gonna call you an ambitious teacher or a "get things done" move on to the next one achiever (chorus) you will always be merely a dreamer you go by the misleading name of Mr Believer caustic remarks throw you aside distraught with disbelief buried alive oh and i have seen the likes of you grow weaker each passing day, men like me digging your grave deeper rapped up and blindfolded barely breathing broke nowhere to go but eyes still shining you crass cowardly clown there's no "Shangri-La" and it don't get any better than right where you are (Koski)
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1:22 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
don't want to write
don't want to talk don't want to fight don't want to fuck don't want to clear my mind 'cause i'm a non-believer, babe i won't speak those lines i'm not innocent or naive words on long distance lines would ease your mind and clear my name from any crimes maybe a taste of beer and wine would by some time (or would i just forget my lines?) don't want to hate don't want to weep don't want to wait don't want to walk away don't want to give it up 'cause i'm not the quiting kind and i'm a cynic and a clod and i don't see the good in all your gods i won't open up at all today sing songs so happy and full of praise i've shut my mind, stowed it away i won't open up at all today |
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3:28 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
While I sit alone in this room I've got crates full of sorrow
Even more filled with shadows That i fish out and ridicule when i'm felling lonely. I'm lacking sense, but bound in a very specific direction It's phonomenal and unprecedented It's a chip of the old block and a step up the new ladder. Mr. Scribe, I write to you pen and penchant aimed to pour over a fool left with no more rhymes I'm poeticlly franchised. I'm in charge for the day in terminal wanderlust I've excited my worst thoughts exorcised what was lost am i a bad seed sprouting up or am i not? I'm sure what sad is But listless i'm not my lists are never ending and my emotions aren't store-bought and tears, they either decieve or endure me I'm your little golden nugget collecting dust Bored with my own stale and directed thoughts In a place where so much life and loves abound It's amazing how little tempts me from my glass house. |
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1:50 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
I was only laughing out loud I say
"When anybody else would've done the same" I could always shut my mouth again But it'd still come out that way again and again Well I'm going to the hills now baby Goin' out to the city building Gonna sleep in the dirty alleys Where the air is fresh With the new day rising You keep knocking on the door But they don't answer anymore Oh you know it aint your fault my dear it's just that bad luck time of year There's no use talking about the weather And since that's all that's on my mind Well then whatever I don't have the time to waste my energy on lying So babe I??짝??????짙l see you later "I'd die with one less cocktail babe It keeps me from feeling naked and ashamed Oh I'd love to tell you stories old and new True and false but I??짝??????쩍 best be on my way" |
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2:46 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
he's a shadow of what he used to be ever since i put him in his place she's just a memory that's scarred him horribly and looks like lipstick on his face
this side of paradise is slow no eager men go to the show, except for me she wore a bright red dress always looked half undressed and he stuck by her side like glue she's give him perfect eyes smiled at him every time and when she spoke it was the truth now it's been twenty days sleepless and stupid days wasting good time on feeling bad she's taken everything greenbacks and anything that she could steal behind his back (Koski) |
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3:08 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
he's a shadow of what he used to be ever since i put him in his place she's just a memory that's scarred him horribly and looks like lipstick on his face
this side of paradise is slow no eager men go to the show, except for me she wore a bright red dress always looked half undressed and he stuck by her side like glue she's give him perfect eyes smiled at him every time and when she spoke it was the truth now it's been twenty days sleepless and stupid days wasting good time on feeling bad she's taken everything greenbacks and anything that she could steal behind his back (Koski) |
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1:30 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
You're just a punk
You're just a punk You're just a punk, they say, And they don't know what you want You learn to fight to bark and bite Test all the limits of little Minsthat you despise Here it says That my time has come and gone Here it says My days are done Here it reads My precious epitaph It says I'm gone And cites my wrongs But I'm no Pariah No Pariah No Pariah No Pariah I've been abused I know they're amused I'm just a walking, balking catch phrase from old news I've reached the last Reached the last rung I've reached the last rung of the ladder, now I'm done |
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2:29 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
she came over, but i was spent no money involved 'cause it came and went i'm so tired, she thinks that's bent it fills up my pockets and it pays my rent i won't hold my breath for that time to come i exhale an exasperating sum she said "you're washed up", i'm not close to being done there's plenty of room in the shadows, but not in the sun no place in the sun, my sun
i'm not even close to being done that guy there, he's a big boy's hobnob he's got no integrity, he's a lazy slob compared to me he's quite famous, but i've got a job loose lips take sips from the goblety gob there's no time for me, but you just wait and see if i'm counting on me, i'll need to calculate noe she's tired of standing there, hey that's takes the cake 'cause the sun comes over, and she's always in the way (Bonnel/Koski) |
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2:14 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
They've laid to rest mortality, blessed themselves with immorality, gazed into the eyes of innocents as the blade was pulled out merrily i'd beg and plead if it made sense to me, if i thought it'd make a difference to quit is to lose, so i suppose i'm conceding defeat from weariness
they say, "no time to play, you cannot stay, appreciate the mess i've made" then they turn their backs and walk away i've seen the young bystanders get shown the view from their watchtowers and with their stealth and stench transform these tykes into another great lot of admirers i don't blame traders ah, how ignorance is bliss it's so fucking easy to be bought and sold when you're a young and stupid kid (Koski) |
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1:54 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
I have crossed this road before for many years, i'm sure don't recognize the faces, though, that pass me by i've been off and on my way again, passed marsh road, atherton, black mountain way and bored stale houses on the yellowed plains
i'm going off again, and for no good reason year by year i've achieved some type of feeling that suggests i've traveled miles that lead to nowhere fast i've seen the lot of them from queens to journeymen bigots and confidantes i've spoken to and laughed with destructive catalysts professionals and loyalists punk rock pop nihilists have grown up amongst suburban architects who can say it was all deceiving or that anybody was mislead? i'm not the one to be judging i may not even be who i think i am the asphalt is my burning bed has left me invalid put me to sleep at night in the arms of some strange no man's land i'll be back northbound and west i need the fucking rest but in the meantime these broken roads and homes will ring in my head (Koski) |
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2:01 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
I have crossed this road before for many years, i'm sure don't recognize the faces, though, that pass me by i've been off and on my way again, passed marsh road, atherton, black mountain way and bored stale houses on the yellowed plains
i'm going off again, and for no good reason year by year i've achieved some type of feeling that suggests i've traveled miles that lead to nowhere fast i've seen the lot of them from queens to journeymen bigots and confidantes i've spoken to and laughed with destructive catalysts professionals and loyalists punk rock pop nihilists have grown up amongst suburban architects who can say it was all deceiving or that anybody was mislead? i'm not the one to be judging i may not even be who i think i am the asphalt is my burning bed has left me invalid put me to sleep at night in the arms of some strange no man's land i'll be back northbound and west i need the fucking rest but in the meantime these broken roads and homes will ring in my head (Koski) |
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1:40 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
Mr. product man strolling by with a kind of head-held-high hypocrisy the envy of so many walks of life but not a type like me periodically searching through the perfect library a man I am of an unusual sort of aimlessness but nevertheless bent on the glory of my lifelessness in the pursuit of nothing short of one in all
he shines his light on me fluorescent minds are quick to bite the bait but there is time for me the null and void is a dazzled riddle of what may or may not be day by day counting the lines in my abridged diary a man I am, a wary sort of nihilist hence bent on the glory of my lifelessness in the pursuit of nothing short of one in all some have been good to me been by my side through with the thick and thin and have supported me other have scolded me with the scorched bits of their apathy but I've lived to tell this tale of my instinctualvengefulness a man I am that won't bow down to humanists or the naivet??????짤 therein that seems to persist in the pursuit of nothing short of one in all |
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2:00 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
I've said, and once too often, some things i'd never say again. in streams of thoughts unbroken i fish for a few good men (chorus) sundays and holidays and twelve hours straight no pay for bloody hands and believe me they pay a petty wage my poor self pity speaks with sobbing mumbled words strewn with the awful taste of bad, cowardly prose. (Chorus) i'd take some time to get my posture set straight if i had the chance i'd break and subdue the scheming hands of fate. wrap up your limp red mass of knuckles and fingertips it's fighting time and time to battle with your wits, time to spit back when you're spit upon, when you're left for dead. time to hit the road when the road you're on has run out of tricks (chorus) i don't want your sundays and holidays of twelve hours straight no pay for bloody hands, no i don't want your fucking petty wage (Koski)
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2:37 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
I write alone now that you're gone
And it's nothing I studied all you've said and done and it's nothing The pictures perfect There's no time It's nothing Resolutions made What's yours is mine and it's nothing Through all the years There's been a feeling Of forsaken That's lost my mind and now I know I've been a fool And you showed up But it's the last time That this place will know Its self or the people that we once knew I walk the streets now Dusk till dawn and it's nothing I never cared to see you Gone and that's nothing These years have lasted far too Long and I'm stuck here with this song And all the problems I've Endured are nothing The picture's perfect And it's nothing |
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2:34 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000) | |||||
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2:43 |
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| from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004) | |||||
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3:06 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
"A penny for your thoughts," he says as he swiftly slips from bed to bed and the thoughtful ones are charmed by him and the sexy ones turned on by him and he's knighted by casanova's kin and his ladies would never turn on him 'cause he's the cary grant of the party kings and the playboy of your wildest dreams wouldn't you like to be a sweetheart? Haven't you dreamed of being an upstart? Owning the heart of every beauty queen the envy of every ladies man-machine making regular stops at meat market spots lifting skirts and molesting tarts buying bottles and blow and whiskey shots for any femme fatale who's got an urge to fuck. Sometimes he's not alone he's got a family and home does he rent or does he own? Is he the villian in your tome? Has he forgotten his way? Has he a mind to leave the fray? Are you so naive and vague? Does it matter anyway? ly afternoon it's dead they've all gone down and off to bed and in his hands a fifth of gin, a fine young thing, some methedrine disgusted, drunk and all washed up and still nursing a stinking cup he shades his eyes from a cloudless sky and punkes it up, it's party time again. Combat boots are all laced up prada shoes with argyle socks seductive stares and massed up hair ripped and torn and now laid bare i'll take you to my little room i'll play you "fly me to the moon" relax, i'm clean and blind and free you won't gain anything from me. Come take comfort from the storm befriend the ones you scorned i'll be your savior and your saint i'll be what all the others ain't it's not as bad as it all seems what if this were all a dream? Do you have to be so plain? Does it matter anyway? |
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1:44 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
I'd rest on my laurels
let some keen wit and crying awful pity sustain me But my memories leak like a sieve And fuel this fire It's deep and heavy roar defies me Let's not talk in vain about the weather Let's take my tired soul off of it's tether Poor me Poor me I can't reach the ends of this But if I didn't It would be the end of me I need to feen infatuation Stoke the coals of curiosity and longing Let's not talk in vain about the weather Let's take my tired soul of it's tether I need the glory with lights aglow around me My halo shining brightly in tribute to myself No, I can't have pity on me So tell me another story And I'll accept gladly and thank you for the help Poor me, Poor me |
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1:58 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
I try to please them with my way most every day i try to please you while i'm here wasting away i'll promise you a world so wide, love replace my lies in time with truth, love. Access to exits everywhere far and away blueprints of passageways lest i need an escape i need a way out of my life, love some hidden path we take in stride, love. I'm always full of "woe is me" and i'm ashamed don't want to spend my days as some hippocratic slave my field of vision's blurred and blind, love my drinks are always running dry, love. Cautious and apathetic, brutal and in blame my life a straw house in the wake of hurricanes pray you don't upset me or mine, love don't pity vague petty minds, love. Call me pathetic call me a bore you don't even take the time to call me anymore so tired and tragic squalid and vain sometimes i swear i don't even remember my name. |
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2:00 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
Try to act this way and that become some beaming bitch's pet though you feel like a rat and it's plain that you're all that you accuse yourself of selling out to the souls searching familiar clout and excuse yourself for slipping still though your cleats are clung to this landfill. You wear your mask it's second skin fits like a glove you don disguises 'cause pleasing them is all you think of. All you can hope to be is a shadow of the man you once could have become you covet the catalyst and shun the sheep pocket the profits stolen from the meek punish yourself for feeling vain banish yourself from the contented place tomorrow wants you every fucking day you may as well start digging your own grave. You wear your mask it's second skin fits like a glove you've taken to task daydreaming shut-ins and their stocks. I'm all over it all over it all it's fantastic fit so snug and smug and swell. You wear your mask it's second skin fits like a glove you wear your mask you bow your head keep on the road |
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1:57 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Everything lies between shadows and lies atleast that is my understanding and you can't leave behind those things that you hide they're all there for the taking, somethings you find in the back of your mind for safe keeping will catch you from behind if you keep it in hiding everyone lies beneath shadows and size atleast that's what they tought me everyone's eyes shaped truth with white lies they're sometimes so convincing a lesson of mine an old lesson in longing don't close your eyes or you'll miss what you're wanting.
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1:54 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Dead Flowers, Bottles, Bluegrass, and Bones (2003)
Time has given me everything I need
Lust, pride, gluttony, and relief Tomorrow weighs down like Clouds hung in the sky But right now I'm feeling like A rotten present from this life of mine So what's there to laugh about? I saw a sign in a window A bold announcement of the facts They got me crying on my pillow The only way I can react I got along until the first night passed me and left me with a new arriving Nothing quite as new as before something missing, so I looked for more I catch a train to the next town's station A busy place with a big town's tension Reminding me of that place I'd left Back home where most of my young life I'd spent I moved like a shadow through a slew of streets Made like the victim in a crowd of thieves Just like it was back home Just like it was back home And my sentiment caught up with me, of course |
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1:50 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
The day grows old and gray with rain skies and the troubles keeping you likewise go to bed after television as outside the moon is turning crimson All alone on a Sunday "tomorrow's no different" as you say sleep with a drink in your hand stick your head in the sand and sign it all away The tomb where the deadmen sleep reminds you that your time's too short to grow remorseful you prick up your ears and find it disconcerting to hear the din of the boys in the chapel praying You've got a burden that's sandbagging you but you can't quite let it out it's like a poison like a sickness that's got you cryin' out (Koski)
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3:14 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Brazen Head EP (1999)
The smokestack's blowing off my last few dreams and isn't that the way its always been? she pours into the sky and chokes the trees then disappears from view, like empty streams
And the second step from heaven disappeared and then I took to crying on my bed and the second step from madness disappeared on a rainy day in august every year The denizen of sad and awful days has visited my home with all her grace she's taught me worlds of knowledge through disgrace she's given me a taste of the misplaced And I've taken to revising my diaries, modifying the more adament entries and the second step from madness disappeared on a rainy day in august every year What's missing is the scent of salted air and a song sung by your sweetheart, and you're there as a twilight breeze sifts slowly through her hair and the angels take a split of the devil's share (Koski) |
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2:18 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
Good solid build, this ripe young kid has sharpened up for killing men. polished new shoes and uniform not a bad sort ??just came here on a whim??br>And now our soldier boy is missing home and now our little boy is dead as a stone.
Big toothy grin, peach fuzz on cheeks, snow-white combed hair, lanky physique. Mobile, but awkwardly made-up like some wannabe debutante. And now our soldier boy is leaving his own and this old rag-tag neighborhood has folded and go |
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2:02 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Brazen Head EP (1999)
Are you guilty of this game that got me in this seat or grateful for the cross that kept Jesus off his feet filling up the tissue box instead of using the sheet wipe off remote control don't push button "delete"
Something sticky, something itchy my visions aren't polite 'cause I'm talkin' 'bout my life the churches on my drive are gloomy in the light Are you innocent of emission stains on my underwear or indecent, no complaints give a fuck or even care the situation's getting rough odors once foul are now fair are you tugging on the tension strings or are my rings caught in your hair Something sticky, something itchy be killed my lonely heart and seize when I'm in the crowd a small piece of the biggest part is the easiest to live out grab hold of my stiff limbs and catch me when I fall stick to what you got for the most part it is all (Bonnel/Maurer) |
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1:14 |
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from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998)
The Devil Dog
Has got you pinned to the ground You try so many ways And you look how that sounds You got me telling me the differences Between night and day I thank the Lord I wouldn't have it any other way If these things sound wrong to you well they should Jehovah's witness and the setting sun He gave me a leaflet I gave him my gun He fears for my life He's afraid of my son I got down on my knees And I kissed his polished tongues I heard I was a member of the I.C.F. I eat vermicelli But I'm Irish at best I shoot for the stars And I f**k the moon If the lighthouse gets in the way I'll curse it too (Bonnel) |
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1:15 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
when the ballroom splendor and the glitzy glamour boys fall flat like cheap champagne, when the swirl of excitement and the sparkling smiles have fled into the folds of the night, when the haunts you most admired and the simple things you adored seem like a fraud of petty trinkets, when the day has broken and the smooth words spoken and your finest moments spent, when the ache of wanting beauty and the lure of glossy perfection leaves you alone and weeping, when you hit the big time, when you hit the big time stars and starlets (Bishop/Koski)
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2:00 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
I wish someone would take me up over that hill to leave me be and let me wander instead of sitting here enjoying the pretty view living vicariously through strangers all i ever wanted was to be right there with you all you random little folk and leaders all i ever wanted was the will to let me roam instead of listening to all the cowards. Whatif i could be there too (step inside this room) with all the others, with all of you (step inside this room) everything so old and new (step inside this room) if i could step inside this room. I pity pretty faces all made up to make some paltry pose, the same old "come hither" i regret and i regress and i complain and i don't want to take it further if you're needy don't come for me i don't need antone else every word i say may be cliche it's to ease my mental health. |
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2:23 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
i have broken many dreams, but like broken hearts they seem to mend with ease i've traversed the open sea with a grain of guts and a gallon of need but i'm tired and i'm easily fixed a hair trigger in this one's breed i'm upset with upsetting things and always sad to see the good things leave so what's wrong with you? so what's wrong with you? so what's wrong with you? she says oh, what's wrong with you is what's wrong with me long lost negotiations made in hell to break my nerves toiled and fought my way to the top, i haven't done but have tried at least to deserve shiny things on golden jeweled plates aren't just handed out for those in need oh i've learned and i'm learning still that staying idle is the worst disease i blame myself for breaking promises i made to myself in so called "dire need" but i won't apologize for the cursed words i've laid upon those that i blamed it's no use to toil over this isn't life to be a simple thing? it's a flux, a want for worth that i need to dispel these needs (Koski)
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2:18 |
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from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998)
Cigarette Ashes
And tickets to free dinners A buck bottle of wine Under a minute of my time I'll give you all that I have, son It may be less than I have, son Don't cut the lines that border us, son Don't waste my time You're no son of mine I've got so many errands to run, son Fraternize with poker buddies and their cash, son I spent the better part of my life Singing you stupid lullabies And handcuffed tight behind my back Under your mother's watchful eye God rest her soul And God bless a wasted life (Koski) |
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1:37 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
I can't believe the things you say to me are so boring I can't believe everything you do to me is done sober I can't obtain a sense of patience, and i can't ordain you as my patient, but you chew away at all my nerves like i'm your servant I CAN'T SUSTAIN IT i sit alone and with the others and i blame you talk of your mother and the senseless way she must have raised you I can't let go of this insanity can't blow you off like a dead leaf on a tree you stick around, i hope you get yours soon I CAN'T SUSTAIN IT (Koski)
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2:11 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
Somewhere between time to time
I depend on my fuckin' alibis But now it's all a different story And it's gettin' pretty damn boring I have taken the train Fuck all others in Spain 'Cause I've taken the train Fuck you all in Spain Damn right bitch suck my dick Hard then you can flick my Bic Ass sex fucked up, and otha' shit Who gives a fucking shit I have taken the train Fuck all others in Spain 'Cause I've taken the train Fuck you all in Spain |
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2:00 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
They always look in all directions
Searching for prey, playing the field They're set like diamonds of pure pretension All polished, plastic overkill Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes I've seen them seethe with satisfaction Made-up and false and sterilized Disposable like tainted poison Predictable and vain and lying Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes Quit the quailudes like the carpenter who made you take them in the first place Beat the bottle like tab's weimaraner Pass out the weapons to the fan base Do you wanna get organized? Do you wanna get stabilized? Dilate the egos like a teen idol's eyes Envied, bought, sold, and then exploited Tragic and blank and overpaid Pretty and handsome and so polluted So void of spills and spats and pains Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes Teen idol eyes These are the words I mean to give you One fine day they'll find their way to you (Bonnel/Koski) |
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1:39 |
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from Swingin' Utters - ......Streets Of San Francisco...... (2001)
well, you don't really know what you wanna do except to spend some time just being you but the game's unfair and the stakes are high what with the threat of being embalmed in formaldehyde
i don't wanna go before my time i don't wanna go before my time well you've got good time to put down a few so you take carrer castanyer down to the gloob it's the only fuckin place that'll serve you a tiny hideaway from parents, work and school it's just like teenage genocide it's just like teenage genocide now you can cast your vote and elect a joke but you'd better not fuck, dream, drink or smoke and watch your back when the man offers you a ride because it's just like teenage genocide (Koski/Wickersham) |
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2:06 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
well, you don't really know what you wanna do except to spend some time just being you but the game's unfair and the stakes are high what with the threat of being embalmed in formaldehyde
i don't wanna go before my time i don't wanna go before my time well you've got good time to put down a few so you take carrer castanyer down to the gloob it's the only fuckin place that'll serve you a tiny hideaway from parents, work and school it's just like teenage genocide it's just like teenage genocide now you can cast your vote and elect a joke but you'd better not fuck, dream, drink or smoke and watch your back when the man offers you a ride because it's just like teenage genocide (Koski/Wickersham) |
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2:10 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Five Lessons Learned (1998)
My life's a mystery
I just cant figure it out It's strange to me That the visions I see Seduce me but for now I try to focus But I can only do a little at one time Everyone keeps telling me Everything's going to be all right Just sit right down And we'll tell you lies I'm at a junction But I just don't know which path I'm proud of all the work I??짝??????쨀e done But it never seems to last It's not for money it's for love And it just might break my back Sometimes it seems as though Something might go my way I'll never give it up Too many things I??짝??????쨀e yet to say I've done it by myself And I can do it all again |
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2:27 |
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from Swingin' Utters - A Juvenile Product Of The Working Class (1996)
I've been disheveled by this drink, by the pint's sight and stink, never enough times to stop and make me think. I've wrapped around some fingers, riddled rich in ringworm. I'm swollen still, poisoned by the sting. The black pint is my drink. You see my link. I steal you sink. You spill and I drink
She's broken saintly vows, she's viable and loud. Auspiciously, she kicks me when i'm down. I'll never leave her side, because of my pissiness or pride. Oh, how I'm shady, in the shadow of my bride The black pint is my dream. From orange white and green. With nightmares of poteen. Spittin up in the sink. Shove it up your ass. In your ear my dear. It's the best thing that's happened to me in 28 fucking years So I'll thank my lucky stars that there's a bad moon to rise. It's the best God has to offer to hang in our skies. And when your snubbed then loved and it's like your fondling the dove. You better suck on something sacred, because you'll never see above. The black pint is my drink. You see my link. I steal and you sink. You spill and I drink. (Bonnel) |
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2:46 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
ample inquiry active, not electric but she is wirey i'm missing, i'm affected futile and fiery sights moved into you a fixture, a filed-b the blessed this fucked up gun miscues, mishandling red-faced, not a case of drunken ramblings lip locked to second faze weaklings, not amputees gut wrenching, gut seeking trends set on trampolines the blessed this fucked up gun telling, like the tides severe, unaware sparing suspicious bribes fifteen kings in stares nary a lorry lies straight-forward, blisters bubble green as blushing bride the blessed this fucked up gun no one can teach you how to play no one can teach you the ropes no one but... the courage of a younger pope
(Bonnel/Koski) |
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3:03 |
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from Swingin' Utters - The Sounds Wrong E.P. (1998)
Nothing comes over me
Nothing like inspiration Not even on the seaside No fantasies to ration The swell looks mighty slim And the water level's down The dirty sea adds to the junk I'm in Until the sun creeps up the sound And then I'm outright broken Disgusted and outspoken My drinks are watered down and sick Like my old man's tired convictions Nobody has a hold on me At dusk it gets mighty dim And the lights fire up the beach I don't feel much like a swim 'Cause I'm afraid of the dirty sea The swell looks mighty slim And the water level's, they're all down The dirty sea adds to the junk I'm in Until the sun creeps up the sound I wake myself hastily In time for the break of day The air smells sweet by the sea It stinks of my old memories I try to grab hold of things Or anything I can reach But I'm only swatting at air Staring blankly at the dirty sea (Koski/Dison) |
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3:06 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Live in a Dive (2004)
Nothing comes over me
Nothing like inspiration Not even on the seaside No fantasies to ration The swell looks mighty slim And the water level's down The dirty sea adds to the junk I'm in Until the sun creeps up the sound And then I'm outright broken Disgusted and outspoken My drinks are watered down and sick Like my old man's tired convictions Nobody has a hold on me At dusk it gets mighty dim And the lights fire up the beach I don't feel much like a swim 'Cause I'm afraid of the dirty sea The swell looks mighty slim And the water level's, they're all down The dirty sea adds to the junk I'm in Until the sun creeps up the sound I wake myself hastily In time for the break of day The air smells sweet by the sea It stinks of my old memories I try to grab hold of things Or anything I can reach But I'm only swatting at air Staring blankly at the dirty sea (Koski/Dison) |
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2:19 |
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from Swingin' Utters - Swingin' Utters (2000)
As i walked alone in camden the city's sights and smells did permeate my senses i stepped inside the local off license and proceeded with amle gallon in my heands. We drank to the brink of dawn and wallouwed in the crimson bliss shouted, laughed and sang for hours "how had i ever missed this?" A fetching famme fatale in green glass turns me into a graceless gzmnast a sanguine mood turns into a sanguinary thirst but i'd never wish to lift this vampiric curse. We turned red each chance that we'd get spending every dime we begged diving for the gracious tamter old nick, we'll never part ways and i will always sing your praise old nick we'll never part ways tonight. |
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