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DUIOU

by The Broosevelts

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1.
Sell your soul to the highest bidder More rock'n'roll less myspace and twitter. OMG there's real people behind these haircuts Fuck This cousin It shit has hit the fan When it stops sell what's your fucking plan? There's life outside all this neon merch it's the worst. And it hurts Fuck you if you're jaded. You're just minutes from fading Into virtual obscurity. Tired hearts don't mean shit to me. Sell your soul to the highest bidder More rock'n'roll less myspace and twitter. OMG there's real people behind these haircuts Fuck This cousin It shit has hit the fan When it stops sell what's your fucking plan? There's life outside all this neon merch it's the worst. And it hurts Fuck you if you hate it Your attitude's abrasive. Go ahead and mock me because Your tired hearts will never mean shit to me.
2.
If heart can only take you so far I'll drive until my car runs out of gas. And I'll play basements, stores, and bars Until I'm tired of busting my ass. But I don't thinking I'll be quitting anytime soon. I'll be the thorn in your side Until the fucking day I die. My only sin is pride Yeah, my only fucking sin is pride. If heart can only take you so far I'll play til all the strings on my guitar break. I'll tie loose nickel in a noose And hang punk rock in front of you. But I don't think I'll be playing executioner anytime soon. I'll be the apple of your eye If for only 15 minutes time. My only sin is pride Yeah, my only fucking sin is pride.
3.
One if by van two if by party bus They came on foot, when will they leave us? Even with double vision you could see how it ends. It's only a gray matter what's left to defend. Budlight turned thermite, it's been too long Our prologue was Mad Dog, and now it's gone We're dull fucking fish in a Day-Glo pond How'd you think that we'd respond? The kick drum shakes your spine and it's off time I didn't write the rythyms, just the melodies and rhymes We'll have our day in court. We'll pay for our crimes. Which one of you fuckers will drop the dime? A scene in the basement is worth two in the fucking bar. Oh my god! We've taken this joke too far. Even Milton could see how these slant rhymes were gonna end If it's too soon for that joke, I meant no real offense. Miller Light bottle knife fight we bear these scars. We're mainlining Enzyte cause life's that hard. Ignite at midnight, now the night is charred. I never thought you'd play that card. The kick drum shakes your spine and it's off time I didn't write the rythyms, just the melodies and rhymes We'll have our day in court. We'll pay for our crimes. Which one of you fuckers will drop the dime?
4.
It's time to save face I'm fine, just out of place Nothing left to do but drink my life away. I am a sociopath Looking out, through a pacifist Unstable is an understandment. So let's get gone, and I can forget All the awful shit running through my head. The lies I'm living won't seem so bad. It's more honest than anything I've said in years. The guilt weighs me down like lead. I just wanted to tell you, I'm sick, I'm lying. We glorify excess Bought the new vinyl repress In all six colours never opened one. I'm taking back action, assert passive aggression Sabotaging myself every chance I get. So let's get fucked, and I'll tell you all about How I'll save the scene but I can't save myself. When judgement comes There's not a soul that can help. It's no more honest, than anything I've said in years I can't stand to get out of bed I just needed to tell you, I'm sick, I'm dying. This ship's going down There's a drunk at the helm Toss it all overboard Sound emergency bells Take your last dances now Pray to God for some help Stand up tall and proud And i'll see you in hell.
5.
Eyeliner douchebags and crust punks the same All this style without substance is fucking lame Every stud polished, it'd be such a shame To defy your labels and generic names. Fuck the scene? What does that even mean? I guess I'm down as long as she's eighteen. But I'm limp and confused And my ego's fucking bruised. Since when did we let politics dictate our every fucking move? Blank stares and apathetic shrugs. Designer jeans and shitty drugs. If punk rock gets you laid, why change your tune? Bitching about the "glory days" and "how far everything has strayed from ideals we forgot about way too soon". Fuck the scene! Tear it down and wipe it clean. I guess I'm down as long as we're saying what we mean. But I'm limp and confused and my ego's fucking bruised Since when did we let fashion dictate our every fucking move? Eyeliner douchebags and crust punks the same. Eyeliner douchebags and tough guys the same. Eyeliner douchebags and The Broosevelts the same.
6.
Let's get a little more wry Move to a commune in Bed-Stuy Let's get a little more Rye And pass out by a quarter past five. Let's get more collegiate We'll stop writing songs about inebriates. Let's get more collegiate We'll drink more coffee and eat like shit. Let's pick our clothes up off our bedroom floors Let's start locking all the doors. Grind down the riff raff to a paste To hang our hopes in our practice space. Let's stop being polite and start getting real We'll stop doing the drugs we're supposed to deal Let's stop being polite and start getting real Life will imitate art. Beg Borrow and Steal.

credits

released April 28, 2011

Recorded and Mixed by Mike Natoli and Fatman at Dickbutt Studios. Mastered by Steve Sopchack at The Square Studio.

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The Broosevelts Hempstead, New York

fuckit lets get drunk

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