Just A Fuckin' Demo

by Drunk Dial

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03:26
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03:30
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about

Recorded by Justin Brown at Expression College. Released on 100 press of cassette.

credits

released January 1, 2013

TFO - Guitar/Vox
Mcgee - Guitar/Vox
Jim - Drums/Vox
Chris - Bass

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Drunk Dial Oakland, California

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Track Name: Rather Be Alone
I'm growing tired of always getting hurt
Just down on my luck, kicking the fuckin' dirt
And you said you're sorry, and you regret it
I'm over it, you can take all the credit
For the way you played it, I'm so sick of the same shit
I guess I just didn't have the guts to say it

Burning bridges, ending friendships
Once again I'll make the long walk home
Apologies unaccapted
I don't need you, I'd rather be alone

And we'll talk when your sober
I'm not beating myself up over it
Cos I've done nothing wrong
Except for wasting my time writing this fucking song
And the more I'm thinking, the more my gut is sinking
The more I start drinking and it gets harder to pick my head up

Options weighing, hairs greying
I'm just saying what's the point of staying?
I've had it, I don't regret it
You made your bed ... now get in it

Burning bridges, ending friendships
Once again I'll make the long walk home
Apologies unaccapted
I don't need you, I'd rather be alone
Track Name: Coffins
Lately life's been hectic
When I feel like all I do is wreck shit
Waking up in blood and piss
I don't think anyone should ever feel like this
Lately I've been waking up
Covered in sweat on a dirty mattress
Alone in the back of the van
'Cos lately that's the only place that I fit in...

We may be down, but we're not broken yet
They keep saying that I'm never make it
They keep saying that I'm never gonna get it right
But this fucking town ain't nothing but a coffin
And as much as I hate it
I hate to say that I'm never gonna leave here alone

Blame all my vices and mistakes
I don't give I just take
But maybe it's myself I hate
Man, I've got nothin' left to lose
Everything I do I blame on you
'Cos I'm gonna be alone anyways...

They keep sayin' that I'm never gonna get it right
And I swear I'm gonna get it right...

We may be down, but we're not broken yet
They keep saying that I'm never make it
They keep saying that I'm never gonna get it right
But this fucking town ain't nothing but a coffin
And as much as I hate it
I hate to say that I'm never gonna leave here alone
Track Name: Sore Feet
Recollecting thoughts and sifting through old letters
Remember back to when leaving town was all I needed
But no one writes letters anymore
And my pack is worn and my feet are sore
Thinkin' back to when we were young and reckless
Catchin' out of our hometown
Get high just to watch the sunrise
The times that seemed like nothing mattered
We would get drunk and talk for hours

So sick of reading between the lines
Don't wanna live - don't wanna die
It's safe to say that nothing matters
Don't wanna mend these broken seams
I'd rather see the ashes of my dreams
And I hate to say I'm right but nothing matters

And four years later under that same bridge
Catchin' out westbound
Straight from the Pig's Eye Yard
Straight to the back of a pig's car
Well, at least we got this far...

So sick of readin' between the lines
Don't wanna live - Don't wanna die
Track Name: Crushin' Cans
I've been crushin' cans off West Grand
Sittin' by the tracks thinking about six years back
To the phone call I got late that night
I didn't pick up - and you took your life
And we'd never speak again
If I had only known that then
But one man's escape is another's means to an end

Winsted, Connecticut
I love it 'cos that's where we met - but god, that place is shit
And I still can't believe some of those things we did
Young, dumb and full of cum
I don't regret anything

Back home at Ed's house in Torrington
I guess that's really where it all began
The summer of '04
Things will never be like that again
And drinkin' by the tracks
When we broke into the abandoned Amtrak
I got my face kicked in and you had my back

Dover, New Hampshire
The Brickhouse Pub
God, that place fucking sucked
And you said ... Fuck it!
Let's go make a mess outta this town