DUIOU

by The Broosevelts

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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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Track Name: He Has Bad Tattoos and Wears Neon
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.
Track Name: Large Hardon Collider
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.
Track Name: What's a Henway Rollins? About 230 lbs.
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?
Track Name: Gene Shalit Gay Sex Inferno
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.
Track Name: Tim, Your Zoli Teglas Impression... Sounds Like Hank Hill
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.
Track Name: This Bike is a Gravity Bong
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.