You think you’re pretty bright ‘cause mama called you son that don’t mean nothing you got your bloody knuckles from breaking bricks with all your muscle it don’t mean nothing wasting so much energy searching for an enemy to ease the doubt and keep your hand you can’t knock it down like a strawman change my gear shift into drive stay awake while I’m alive with good humor and a shoddy plan I can set afire to my strawman hey you know things could always be easier hey but though we all complain even so watch out for meteors, meat-eaters, and other forms of wild game sold a millions diamonds but never gave up one that don’t mean nothing you got your bloody nose from breaking bricks with all the girls it don’t mean nothing hey little Scotty why you on the loose you got your head and your shoulders and a good excuse excuse the dues freezing your plan you can knock it down like a strawman hey you know things could always be easier hey but though we all complain even so watch out for meteors, meat-eaters, and other forms of wild game if only this if only that change the one thing holding me back and I can make it like it’s not I’ll be so free sitting on top the world it flies it does not wait for you to accept your own fate come to in all your foolish pride hear in lies truth you may despise the skies don’t care much who you are they’ll strike you down with a meteor wasting so much energy searching for an enemy to ease the doubt and keep my hand I can’t knock it down like a strawman
credits
from Vital Signs,
released March 13, 2010
(Feinberg/Shaw)
Andrew Campanelli: Drums
Zack Feinberg: Acoustic guitar
George Gekas: Bass
Rob Ingraham: Saxophone, Shaker
Nick Offenberg: Piano, Organ
David Shaw: Vocals
This Michigan-based trio trip, swirl, and echo their way through 11 songs of psychedelic, surf-tinged, garage rock. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 27, 2015