1. |
My ego is out of control
01:56
|
|||
|
The next half an hour is all about me, so get yourself uncomfortable and have a beer of three. Sell me down the river, I'll put you in a song. Everyone that hears it will know that you did wrong. This is a collection of thoughts and how I feel, channelled into soundbites to make sense of it all. I'll bottle up my issues and place them on a shelf. Put a cap on all of them, I'm bettering myself.
|
||||
2. |
|
|||
|
I’m paving these cracks with the crate of beer in my fridge, these empty bottles can’t be recycled to build a bridge between you and me. I thought that we’d topple mountains and conquer worlds together but instead we only managed to drink the bar dry. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but abstinence makes the mind wonder. Who needs a life insurance policy when you can sell your soul to the devil himself? I’ve never seen sparks fly like two narcissists falling in love. You can chalk this one up as trepidation, but with a distinct lack of intimidation.
|
||||
3. |
|
|||
|
Someone get me out of this reality. I’m in a state of constant anxiety. I’ve just woke up reading texts up on my phone, trying to figure out the way I just walked home. I’m a faker, I’m a liar, I’m a hypocrite. Latching onto fashion trends yet claim I’m sick of it. Selfish, lost cause, self-absorbed. I’ve got an axe to grind. I'm not perfect but I least I admit who the fuck I am. I've got a self-destruct switch and I like to press it from time to time, it's not a wise move but it sure gives me something to help pass the time. I'm holding onto this fucking rope, and I ain't gonna fucking let go.
|
||||
4. |
Nicolas Cage
00:07
|
|
||
|
Bitches. You bitches, Killing me won't bring back your God damn honey.
|
||||
5. |
|
|||
|
Don’t be late. Where to stay? Find me death. Misery. Out of style. Drank the case. Swollen face. And it’s all down hill. And it’s all right here. And it’s in writing. And it’s all I need. Want it. Be the fool, I’m the bait. Need a ride? “Why?” I said. She’s alright, I’m her fate. Immortality. I rolled in, I’m rosy, I wrote it, I’m a fucking mess. Don’t pretend, go with it. When I laid my eyes off you. Brawl.
|
||||
6. |
A chip on the shoulder
02:02
|
|
||
|
Yeah there are plenty of zeros on my bank balance, issue is there's no numbers in front of them. I've come this far, I need to stop spending all my money on alcohol and be responsible. HAHAHA yeah fucking right. I've got all these notes written down on my phone, created when I walk around town on my own. Boredom and anxiety is playing on my mind. Self-inflammatory comments help me push my issues to one side. Don't take yourself too seriously, don't defend yourself so furiously.
When you’re accused of narcissism in your own self defence, who gives a fuck what time you invest? Everything I say is an exaggeration to make myself sound interesting, the reality is I'm as dull as dishwater and I taste twice as fucking stagnant. And every band I hear is singing about politics whilst I'm here singing about me. Sorry if I find more inspiration in my own failures than the failure of civil liberties. Define yourself by your online following or how many people you've slept with. Create a more interesting reality than constant weekend hangovers. Mix quiet nights in with going out in a blaze of glory. The only cross I have to bear is my own and my own alone.
|
||||
7. |
Snakes
00:33
|
|
||
|
In case you were wondering what’s going on with me. You’re not friends for life, you’re just friends for the opportunity. Don’t forget to report back exactly what I said, or you can exaggerate what you thought you saw in your head. Those god damned fucking snakes. Do what you like cause I’ve tried talking sense. I don’t give a fuck about any of the following events.
|
||||
8. |
TXTMSG
01:57
|
|
||
|
Won't someone please get me some text message therapy. Because I'm trying to find a reason, to know I've made the right decision. But I'm keeping my cards close to my chest with a smile on my face. At the bottom of the bottle I found my soul, but I can't find a deep enough hole to drown myself in alcohol. And she said; "You don't have a problem, you only abuse alcohol and it doesn't control you."
|
||||
9. |
|
|||
|
I could walk away, leave without a trace and you wouldn’t even hear me close the door. Why would I settle for something for the sake of it? And I could never under estimate the fact, of how we fuck and interact. I'm sick of writing in these metaphors. I just hope you never know that this song is about you. Sick of hiding how I feel, feel like saying what I mean.
And I know what is real, I’m just blurring over facts. I’ll use you as a muse, take advantage of my tact. I admit I’m a just a trap.
|
||||
10. |
Unenthusiastic handjob
02:06
|
|
||
|
Hole me up where it’s silent, I don’t wanna hear a noise in this room. Pen to paper, push the button. All this pressure, pushing down. Writer's block, I’ve got nothing. Warning: tobacco causes disease. If we die anyway it makes no sense to me. If I’m a poster child for living your life clean, there’s a gain for all involved. Take a deep breath and sigh. That or curl up and die on the sofa on my own, cause we’re all in this together but there’s no one to my side. I’m a lover and I’m living. When I absolved all my sins it was to a God who is now dead. One piece short of a set, as I look for inspiration in a cluttered room of stuff, there’s a poster of a band I don’t know. Game, set and match. Lost myself down a crack. Everything’s going on but nothing's thrilling me.
|
||||
11. |
Bypass me
02:14
|
|||
|
This jacket smells like cigarettes and regret, wearing a beer-soaked shirt from our former wreck. You see me out, know I'm working on shit. It wasn't fixed, I decided to break it. Spice Girls requested that I "spice up my life", I'm hitting bumps off the end of a knife. Smoke, light pollution and warm scents from the candle. I'll grab this blade I'm stabbing you with the handle. When you see me out in town with a smoke in my hand and a bottle of drink, bypass me. Or when you see me in the shop late at night and I'm so fucking drunk I don't know what to eat, bypass me. I used to have a plan. I used to have a purpose. I used to know the plot. I used to be in surplus. Am I just a shell of my former self? Or was I pretending to be someone else? Money can't buy you happiness but it sure as hell can buy you shots at the bar. Now she's on my bed stripped down to her underwear asking me to pull on her hair. Prescriptive drugs and the alcoholic drinks, if we keep doing this we're gonna be dead in a week.
|
||||
12. |
Rusted shut
02:11
|
|||
|
I'm not sure if your the wreckage or I'm the wreckage and you're running towards me. But I'm seeing things in the static on my TV screen. As you walk these streets trying to find your feet. Maybe you'll find yourself, or just somewhere to grab something to eat. They say the grass is always greener on the other side, I say it's clearer when you've drank the liquid stored inside. Well I'm telling you this, I'm dreaming of somewhere and it's a place of bliss. And I'm not even sure if that place exists. And I'm telling you now sometimes I think I'd be better off if I just slit my wrists, and everyone watched me bleed out in a pile of sweat-soaked skin and piss. I got an itch only cigarettes can scratch. I got a stitch, two steps forward and one step back. I'm feeling comatosed from living in this town. My neck is paralysed from always looking down. Well fuck the A140, and fuck these late night drives, and fuck Long Stratton traffic, and fuck always being tired. I'm bored of being lonely and I'm missing all my friends. I'll pack my shit, I'm leaving. You ain't seeing me again. You won't ever have the displeasure of fucking seeing me again.
|
||||
13. |
Stones
01:34
|
|
||
|
What are you doing? Thought you quit? Take another hit from it. Throw your last sense to the dogs, jump through fire, take some stick. I’m aware this isn’t good, I’ll regret this soon enough, but for now it’s where I am. Embrace the social side of love. I don’t care where I fall. All the money in the world couldn’t tell me that I’m wrong, couldn’t tell me where I’m flawed. What the fuck is up with if you and why look down on how I live? Yeah, I’m down from my high horse, never said I’m not a prick. I don’t care where I fall. I’m aware I dropped the ball. Isn’t helping with my sins, doesn’t save me from myself. Want to know how to chase that buzz? Want to know how to fall in love? Choose a path with no stone unturned. Hold me up, take a bow, let me go, walk on home. I don’t care where I fall. It was long ago I fell, in a metaphoric ditch full of fears I’ll face alone. Don’t learn a thing from all these words but here’s a lesson anyway: never do as what I do, try to do as what I say.
|
||||
14. |
|
|||
|
You’re only here for a rise. I’m only pointing out the flaws in your opinion. You know I’m right, won’t you please make it stop? We'll make it happen. All I made was a fair argument. Collecting my thoughts. I’ve had enough, there I said it. Spent some hours on this one, bored of tiring my tongue. It’s a waste of my time staring down at a gun. If you never admit when a fact proves you wrong it’s a waste of my time, as you ain’t gonna say; “I’ve changed my life’s opinion.” My nice opinion.
|
||||
15. |
Writing a to-do list
03:36
|
|
||
|
I’m craving some kind of resolve. Hope we find something to make it fine. Still failing to see this. Is this a thrill or just the state of mind I'm in? So take a step back and tell yourself that the only thing you’re wasting is someone else’s time. I lay awake for my own sake and find a way to pass the day. I’m unaware if I still care, but saying that; my answer’s there. I know myself. I’ll be okay, but you need to go away.
|
||||
16. |
Snakes (acoustic)
01:01
|
|
||
17. |
|
|||
CHEAP HEAT Bury Saint Edmunds, UK
Rooker
Green
Callis
Morse
If you like CHEAP HEAT, you may also like:
Misanthropic hardcore punk from NYC that galvanizes jagged guitars and dense production towards satisfying mayhem.
go to album
This Is All We Ever Get
by SPACED
Knockout debut from a Buffalo, New York-based hardcore band who like their riffs sick, their drums fast, and their choruses sticky-sweet.
go to album
Escape From New York
by Cash Bribe
New York hardcore meets classic thrash metal meets Jane's Addiction-esque alternative on the Brooklyn crushers' sensational debut.
go to album
FSR69 - Psychic Dance Routine
by Scowl
Rowdy hardcore rhythms co-mingle with catchy alt-rock hooks on the California punks' immensely satisfying 5-track EP.
go to album
Big Dog, Small Yard
by S.M.I.L.E.
featured on Bandcamp Radio Apr 14, 2023
go to album
The L.A. powerviolence band explore the connective tissue between Black music’s past and present.
go to album
Big, Big Wave
by Various Artists
Get deep into the fertile and fabulous Hattiesburg, MS punk scene with this new compilation from Feral Kid Records.
go to album
