Альбом Butch Walker

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i got a girl that lives at the mall
she dances on the dark side of the disco ball
drives a silver mercedes
made in the 80s
swears and stares at the buckhead ladies
she straddles me lovely
while she scratches my back
while she sings all the words
to my hidden tracks
from my heart of a record, far as i can tell
sounds like heaven and feels good as hell
b-b-b-b-baby yer so hot
ya g-g-g-g-g-give me everything i got
c-c-c-c-c-c-can ya tell me how to not
love a hot girl in a good mood
back before i ever even knew how you felt
when i was just a teenage bullet belt
making really heavy music
in a bandana band
playing spring break parties
in the redneck sand
your lips are like a work of art..
god i wanna tear them apart

I'm tired, i'm bored,
where's the cocaine
things don't get started til midnight
in my brain
called up marie, that had sex for free
i asked her to give back all my records
and jeans
i cant seem to, no matter how hard i try
to outdance the dancefloor
so everybody woke, telling the same joke
and singing the same chorus to a song
that hasn't even been wrote
don't know how to lead, just follow along
there is no right or wrong way for certain
make up your own version sing along
what's it this week?
perhaps a little game of poker?
and the import by the
“Lets Go Out Tonights”!!!!!!!
that'so over
gimme a razor,
not to cut myself
and talk about it
but to shave off your beard,
your look better without it
lions and wolves are the latest..
oh my so 8 months ago...
nice try

hey little party girl
where do you wanna go
i didn't come from your scene
so many people i should know
like every door guy in this city
only lets you in cuz you're pretty
and the boutique girls and theme night
druggies
take you in the back
(you put your head on the mirror)
maybe threes a gas station open
and a little money on my card
so i can buy some half and half
cuz even mornings they seem so hard
and look at you, you never fell to bed
you're still typing on your phone
w/ yer cigarette
saying i should stop being so cynical
we're hotter when we don't give a damn
(so smash yer head on the mirror)
and ooooh baby baby baby keeps it with her
ooh baby baby, babies got a purse full
of things she calls excuses
real pretty pretty
you're pretty down and out for a girl

that was a helluva party last night
i cant believe i helped you break up a fight
trust fund kids should stay away from clubs
i remember my first beer too
i coulda used a little more to do
the conversations got snorted
and i cant find my shoes
so lets go to the coffee shop
dressed like we are
and make people think (its what we do)
all day, we sing la la la
all night we go blah blah blah
all morning we just yawn a lot lot lot
yeah it makes ya look better
when you look like u got nothin better to do
god your hair is a fucking mess
so hurry put on a ski cap, and maybe a vest
just try kinda hard to make
it not look like ya tried at all
i know a place with a line outside
where we can maybe get a table
sitting side by side
we can listen to the conversations
like flies on the wall

Burnt to a crisp i cant sleep from the sound
Of the train of thought inside of me
So i grab the keys as the clock
It starts to smile
5 in the am seems so surreal
Where the red lights are friends
With the automobiles
And just want you to stop
And say hi for awhile
'cause we just want to be heard
And act like we're better
Than anyone else or not to feel lower
So laugh when they cry
Jump when they're down
Smile when they frown
We're all going down..
We're all going down
So take a hi-five from another zombie
That walks in the bar
Straight out of a movie
Where 10 dollar drinks
Are the highlight of his week
And all of the kitty cats
Get out their catty kits
Sit and they talk shit
Bout this bitch and that bitch
And makes me feel a little better about me

sitting with the dog
trying to clear the fog of a
memory of the last time
that i saw her face
50 yrs of time an accident
would take my mind and shortly
after take the wife
away from me
everybody knows
memories will keep us alive
and some just wont go away
(just cant be erased)
but if i remember one today
let it be of Grace
the catskills are all frozen
playing dominoes and i can
hear a voice reminding me
that i'm her hero
i can find myself able from
the chair across the table
to remember that it wasn't
always empty
everybody knows
memories will keep us alive
and some just wont go away
but if there's a memory left of Grace
let it come back today
i see her beside me
as the grandkids they remind me
that she's in the cemetery
that we played in as kids
they just think i'm crazy
but the things she tells me lately
are the only things that i cannot forget

and the sky is falling upwards
on a summer desert night
while kids in school are forced to sing
the battle hymns just right
and the extras paid to get excited
on the tv screen
so doped up on diversion
that they don't know what it means
to be free to hate the ones you hate
free to love the ones you love
free to like the land you live on
not the one who leads
all i'm sayin', dig the grave you lay in
after all, you make the call
hang up before it's too late
make sure to give your full attention
smile the best you can
watch this hand give peace sign
while the other chokes a man
cuz he wants to love another man
they'll tell you that its bad
cuz some book that set the moral codes
is glamourized in ads
and the backflipping, spike-haired preachers
preaching through their headset mics
saying god is the new elvis and
he's “gonna rock tonight”
so just sip on that new energy drink
although it tastes like shit
cuz a pretty t.v. couple
says they cant live without it

Well there's sand in my book
From writing on the beach
Trying to find a song for you
That the ocean can only reach

And this beach is getting wider
Than my train of thought is long
And each little grain of sand
Is some other asshole poets song

So I'll try to get this right
Before the sunburn says I'm wrong
Says I'm wrong

I keep on shooting clever guns
That blow up in my face
And what good to say I'm sorry
When time it wont erase

All the times I hit erase
On every word you said to me
And I just covered it up
Like dog shit on a pretty city street

Just to not piss off the neighbors
You know, it's wonder I can't sleep
I can't sleep

A song without a chorus
You know this is my first attempt
'Cuz that would really bore us
And the title would go limp

But these words just keep on shooting
Out my pen just like a gun
And I'm aiming at your ears
Trying not to come undone

'Cuz you love the smell of gunshots
And the company of one
That's no fun

They'll probably say this sucks
But I don't really care
And I used the gunshot word
So it won't get on the air

While the rappers do a drive by
And smoke crack then praise the Lord
While a white-bread singer songwriter
Has to stand here looking bored

While I'm at it, I should mention
That all the guns I used in my
Songs were fake, not real, plastic
I fuck, get real, blast it, I still love you

well i tripped and i fell
into a hole i know so well
and i don' tthink i'll be
leaving for awhile
and this lump beneath my skin
is the home i let you in
all it took was just your
red lipped biting smile
and damn damn damn i love you
like the stars that shine above you
light the ground that your laying on
while looking up at me
and oh good god i need this
just a chance to see your weakness
so i can come inside of your kiss
and leave you on your knees
slurring thoughts til they bled
cuz i love the taste of red
and you're stuck inside me
like a splinter does
drawing words on your back
spelling you're my heart attack
cuz your naked body glistens like the sun
and damn damn damn i love you
like the stars that shine above you
light the ground that your laying on
while looking up at me
and oh good god i need this
just a chance to show your weakness
so i can come inside of your kiss and just
leave you on your knees

he looks up at her to find she staring back
at fingerless gloves, with fingernails black
there's a permanent frown
that's etched in her skin
designer bag fat, her figure is thin
he says hi to her, she nothing to him
she's scared of the outside,
she's boxed herself in
to a world full of judgment
and callous routine
she forgets where she's from,
he knows where he's been
rich people die unhappy
that's what daddy said
but i never believed him
while drunk in the head
with our television dinners
and a broken t.v. set
money makes you happy i bet
he goes to be famous, a house in the hills
very little free time, whole lotta pills
that nail polish spread to a
franchise of bands
as fake as the X's sharpied on their hands
he was bitter as the smell
of a magazine review
but he had all the cars
and the pools and the view
and as a bum tries to stop him
for a 5 or a 10
he forgets where he's from,
he forgets where he's been

i can only keep this feeling for a minute
can only stare at a polaroid so long
before the chromofilm blurs and the smiles
on our faces are gone
i crossed a line 5 yrs in the making
that the biggest eraser cant clear
and i'm rewinding everytime
i whispered that in your ear
as i laid on you
and your naked body
looked just like i wanted it to
and i wanna be the inspiration
for your room going silent
i wanna feel you erupt
when i play your song
i wanna move you to tears when i say
"its over.. goodnight"
and the rest of your life
i get mad at myself for not acting myself
i get jealous at the thought of you out
i don't want you to think that its all that i'm
thinking about
but goddamn i do
and everytime that i hear someone laugh,
it sounds just like you

laurel was a girl i knew,
made of dirt and stone
pretty hip in younger times,
now she sits alone
with a hundred thousand,
beat up architectural disasters
she calls homes
beverly glen was pretty
all the rich boys loved her curves
she tried to get the credit sometimes
more than she deserved
like those cheesy 80's movies
she epitomized all things
we'd come to know
beachwood was a boheme
from the sexy 60's scene
grew up east of w. hollywood
and somewhere in between
all the madness laurel puts up with , but
somehow always tolerates a scene
nicols had a lot in common
with performing arts
a and r guys having cookouts
on her back with super stars
but she had some nasty habits and some
roadwork to repair this drama queen
sometimes beachwood yelled at laurel
on the terms of selling out
then laurel yelled at beverly
for not knowing what life's about
with her trust fund friends and family,
it felt just like an earthquake
when she'd shout
and silverlake just stood there
with her nose up in the air
pushing up her horn rimmed glasses saying,
i dont fucking care
bout the drama all you idiots are buying,
selling, leasing, up there
san fernando was a struggling actor
drove a deli truck to the sets of porno
movies, just trying to make a buck
while his pilot sits in escrow, he dreams of
dating beverly one day