1. |
All Fuzzed Out
03:11
|
|||
|
I'm swallowing faith, but choking on lust. I'm chasing your face, but fucking it up. Turn the stereo loud until I steady my guts. You still are "Oh, wow!" And all of these sounds are really just my heart plugged in and played loud. My knuckles are fake. I kiss when I punch. If everything breaks, what happens to us? You are how The Smiths sound when they're falling in love. You still are "Oh, wow!" And all of these growls are really just my heart getting really fuzzed out, like, oh, wow! If there's Heaven, I have found it with you. So, is there?
|
||||
2. |
Dirty Cigarettes
03:02
|
|||
|
I write a lot. It's mostly lies. I fall in love to pass the time. I never fit. I never tried. I need the struggle to feel alive. All I want are records on my stereo. I'm better off, baby, when I'm all alone. That's a lie. Dirty cigarettes and a dirty soul. Tell me I'm enough. I am dying to know what it's like. This sound is fucked, but I don't mind. It's wrong enough to feel alright. I think a lot, like all the time. I get in trouble when things get quiet. All I want are records on my stereo. I'm better off, baby, when I'm all alone. That's a lie. Dirty cigarettes and a dirty soul. Tell me I'm enough. I am dying to know what it's like.
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
They stick to my tongue, the kisses you threw at me. I'm falling in love with Xs and ecstasy. I tripped on my tongue and fell into wild things. Peel off your guts. Punch me romantically. I burned out on luck. It never did much for me. Tonight, let's be young and light up these sleeping streets. It's Friday night and I'm in the basement screaming out my lungs with my best friends. I hope when I die, I feel this alive. Shake off the dust. Lace up your fighting teeth. It's less that I'm dumb and more awkward socially. I'm hiding in drugs, but hoping you'll wait for me. It's Friday night and I'm in the basement screaming out my lungs with my best friends. I hope when I die, I feel this alive. American girls and French kisses.
|
||||
4. |
We Are Nothing
02:28
|
|||
|
Sometimes I don't want to try. I'd rather fuck up. I don't want yours. I want mine. I've only got one. I'm not dumb. I'm figuring out my life. Let it cut. The failures are worth the fight. We are nothing like them. I've got some friends who want to die, but, really, they're dead. They snuffed their hearts and lost their minds for banks and courts. And we grew guts and gnawed on the roar of life. We got young and, baby, we did it right. We are nothing like them.
|
||||
Beach Slang Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Guitar, bass and drums. Played loudly.
If you like Beach Slang, you may also like:
supported by 95 fans who also own “Cheap Thrills On A Dead End Street”
So much god damn effort went into this album, and I god damn appreciate it
go to album
supported by 91 fans who also own “Cheap Thrills On A Dead End Street”
The melancholy and frustration definitely gets to you.
go to album
supported by 86 fans who also own “Cheap Thrills On A Dead End Street”
Iron Chic's narrative, some of the most aware & conscientious lyrics you will find in punk. The music is just as damn good... "There's no answers, so take a guess & make up the rest" "I couldn't stand to watch you die, so I died first, that's how I survived" 🌸💀🌸💀🌸
go to album
Other Better Places
by Fraidycat
Charming and catchy lo-fi jams from Brooklyn's Fraidy Cat.
go to album
The L.A. DIY mainstay offers a homespun collection of melodic tunes with occasional forays into noisier territory.
go to album
Live At The Nick
by Lee Bains + The Glory Fires
A surprise live album from Lee Bains III & The Glory Fires that showcases the group’s ragged, punk-inspired approach to American rock.
go to album
Home, Like Noplace Is There
by The Hotelier
supported by 84 fans who also own “Cheap Thrills On A Dead End Street”
Takes over my life
go to album
