TEEN BOP HIT FACTORY

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Trap myself between two chords, a sound that’s been explored, but a melody about a kind of love I’ve never felt before. It seems that line i've crossed between communication and annoyance, just another reason to beat myself up, brought on by fear of loss. In less than an instant I’ve pulled too hard, spun you right around and thrown you the other way. Last thing I ever wanted to do, it seems you’re the only one who cares what I have to say.

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I never use much metaphor in love songs, unable to sit and write long poetic prose comparing you to sunrise or the long awaited dawn. Can’t wrap my head around my heart long enough to complete a thought. But the love I have for you is just as awe-inspiring as any classic poem or famous work of art.

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But I can’t put this into words try as I might.

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Put this into words, I dare you.

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MUMPA

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Count myself among other troubled captains of industry. Make my way through time with tales told of all the things I’ve achieved. Count the stars, do they measure my delusions of grandeur? I’ve traveled so far but so far haven’t found an answer.

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Scream all of our clichés, whisper them softly to our lovers. After all of these years they’re just now making sense.

A good friend of mine once said “Hold close the ones that make life worth living, cause we sail together, we sink alone.”

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Eighty years spent filling notebooks full of arithmetic, room enough inside your head to care when she got sick. Twenty years spent by her side as she slowly faded away. She was there with you when your body gave up fighting that day.

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I can only dream of being half the man that you were.

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THE SKY IS REALLY HEAVY

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For all the times we lost our minds and all the times we wasted time. Every time we run our mouths or push each other out. Let this song wash those away, and soothe the soul in it’s own strange way.

We’re just afraid of ending up hopelessly defeated, cold hearted and callous. All resources gone, gone, gone, gone. Fully grown with nothing to show except a few shitty songs. 

We’ve one decision left to make, love if we’re only hated, or let it break us make us jaded. Brothers and sisters! Those who’ve resisted! Lift your heads and dry your eyes, we can hold up the sky!

We can hold up the sky!

Tattoos serve as reminders of ways that we once thought. Of battles neither won or lost but just that they were fought. Flesh will die, tattoos will fade. So work for tangible impacts made.

We can hold up the sky!

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           1234 chikachikachikachika (or Scum)

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Hey buddy got a light, cause I’m burnin this place down.

As soon as I work up the nerve to live without a paycheck.

Whatever you do just don’t shake my hand, the dirt beneath my nails

And fire in my eyes make the difference between you and I.

But money don’t mean shit, unless you ain’t got none. Dress me up

Shut my mouth, you still think I’m scum.

Retro-fitted, painted rust, my friendly smile

has always met disgust.

You still think I'm scum, lower than the dirt beneath you, scum.

Spare my life sir, I beseech you.

Scum!

Spending my days alone in the basement,

The boss has clocked out long ago, but if he gets bored

He can watch surveillance tapes at home. Somebody please

Find me an open window, no, not to jump to my death. But

To take it all in, feel the city’s chilly breath.

But pariah wage work will never be done

Dress me up and shut my mouth, but you still think I’m scum

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Webinar

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Raised by the television, brought up by the media, found myself a new place to practice all my narcissism.

Give you voyeuristic thrills, show you all how me and my friends want to be seen.

This is my life, my poetry, my future plans for all to see.

My eyesight is getting weary, stomach full of knots, the real world is scary, it’s the only real thing we’ve got.

If you finally notice me, I’ll be out here in the real world. Dead in this seat.

This is my life, my poetry, my future plans for all to see

Self centered scenes, preaching a change, the more they change the more they stay the same

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The Pop tart Prophecy (or The Gospel According to Pat Robertson)

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This pop tart makes my stomach hurt, sticky strawberry in the morning

As sweet as television, let there be light

Right to the seven hundred club

Order now the voice of God

DVD bibles, up for sale

Now I hear the voice of God telling me to turn it off

Turn if off right now!

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            Spaghetti Western, First Blood Part II, The Revenge

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This moment suffocates me, like hot air blowing garbage up the sweltered city streets

A sight less than amazing, simple spirals on the wall, florescent green and pink

The trillionth of a second it takes lamp light to reach the eye is just to god damn fast

Went outside this morning to stair at older light, the sun she stared right back

Burn my eyes out, staring at the sun today

This is what happens when I’m left to all my own devices, slap me silly baby, stop me making all these stupid choices

Burn my eyes out, staring at the sun today

Come on baby, save my eyesight, please distract me, show me some of your light

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            Fixed Gears and Earth Tones

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The terror sets in quickly, too far from that great sea, but I’ll make it through the fall

The painted desert’s beauty, the four winds that once blew me, I can hear them call

The code set down by brethren of a long gone era, has now cracked up and expired

The path has grown over, it’s everyone for themselves, and my dirty feet are tired

Writing remains disjointed, but the messages still pointed, targeting the soul

Spent my years too fucked up, too young but too grown up, all these many types of a whole

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            Fox and the Hound

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Life beats the shit out of you, how will you handle it?

Remember to breathe, hold it together.

Through the years it only gets harder. These moments of clarity

seem fewer and farther between.

Wash your hands and sit down for lunch inside the van.

Suddenly you’re 65 years old.

All you can think about is how this working hurts your back.

All you can talk about are petty finances you lack.

Through the years it only gets harder. These moments of clarity

Seem so few and far between.

Force bless these moments of clarity, so few and far between.

I’m left broken down far from the finish, so it would seem.

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The Last Song About The Man

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Estimate your dollar value, for the weight my back can hold

Don’t take in to account, my shoulders support the world, (what are we worth) what a self important statement

The face you wear is a mask of lies, complete with sour shit stained grin, "hope this kid doesn’t find out you can’t raise a family on the wage we pay him, not in this town."

Look me in the eyes, tell me the whole truth

Even if you tell the truth, I probably still won’t believe you

Once upon a time I said, you can’t feed your children dreams, maybe I was wrong, perhaps that’s what they need

Give them a place to find some peace, a dose of harsh reality, and all the skills to overcome the blind life they’re supposed to lead all the way through hell

Look them in the eye, tell them the whole truth

Even if you tell the truth, they probably still won’t believe you

When they destroy themselves we’ll laugh, with triumph and with righteousness

Keep on blazing our own path, helping anyone who will ask for it

Until we’re dust ourselves

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            All the People In The Place To Be (Don’t Care)

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Give me some time, a half an hour, just thirty minutes and I’ll tell you my life story

You’re just like me, you do things differently, you tune me out the second that I started talking

Doesn’t matter anyway, go make your own mistakes, I’ve made a couple and I wouldn’t change a thing that I’ve done

Just remember, keep teaching yourself

Here I stand, in the front of a poorly lit room, screaming fucking bogus life lessons, one hundred minds, tune out at once

When I forget, just how much joy this brings me, I sing our songs all to myself, when I forget, just how much joy this brings me

I remember I’m teaching myself

I refuse to be a cautionary tale

Shed outward images and maintain a sense of myself

Maintain a sense of yourself

Go to school, get a job, shave your head, empty all your bank accounts

Maintain a sense of yourself

Thanks for buying the record! If you haven't yet, we're playing a wicked awesome show on saturday the 10th with A Wilhelm Scream. Come on out and say hello!

Until Next time, keep your heads up kids, and keep moving forward! xoxoxoRY and TDDxoxo

P.S. All songs on SCREAM ALL OF OUR CLICHES were written by The Damage Done. Copyright 2008. All lyrics written by Ryan Koreski copyright 2008.

xo