You've got a mouth on you, kid
Been taught the patterns I never did
A slur for you a badge for me
May wonder why you don't see me
CHORUS
No God or country or capital city
Awaits us when we go
Bottom feeding bottom leaning
Heroes to anyone on murderers row
Selfless endeavors hard as the weather
But anyone would tell you otherwise
You've got a goddamn time ahead of you
You've got a terrible obligation, boy
Monday's the reclamation, boy
Sunday's the killing of your mother's son
Sunday's the willing, the waning fun
CHORUS
I do my best to hold on to religion
Though it crowbarred itself away
There's no god or country
That would let you stay
I do my best to kill all the idols
Before the end of the working day
There's no god or country
That would let you stay.
Phil makes sometimes quiet, sometimes ear shattering, always pretty and dense records and this one is no different. As big as all outdoors and as small as a small wooden shack, as to be expected. al Riggs
Dance to this all night and then the morning and then the afternoon until your legs turn to noodles or the landlord starts a-knocking on your floor/their ceiling with a broom. Whichever happens first. al Riggs
Landlady live is a force of nature, on record they are just as gorgeous and anxious as they are in the Flesh World. More Nervous Energy for those who like tremendous drumming and proper earworms. al Riggs