1. |
Something New
03:16
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Trying hard to think of something new
Trying hard to make the big breakthrough
But I’m lost in the endless stream
Swallowed by my own newsfeed
It’s a pattern play, and I’ve had my share for today
(Hey, hey, hey…)
Hey, Mr. Radio
Here’s that song I wrote
Your lies don’t scare me, and I won’t back down
Hey, Mr. Radio
Get it while you can—time’s up, you know
Guys like you are on their way out
Guys like you are on their way out
Trying hard to think of something fresh
Being made to make your life seem nothing less than perfect
Outrage in the hype machine
Outrun by your own newsfeed
It’s a pattern play, and you’ve had your share for today
(Hey, hey, hey…)
Hey, Mr. Radio
Here’s that song we wrote
It’s called “Your Lies Don’t Scare Us and We Won’t Back Down”
Hey, Mr. Radio
Get it while you can—time’s up, you know
Guys like you are on their way out
Guys like you are on their way out
Guys like you are on their way out
Creeps like you are on your way out
You chose your path
It’s too bad that it’s now obsolete
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2. |
Song for Stephen H.
03:22
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Drivin’ down a wicked road
Goin’ where the sun won’t show
I slept for an hour or so
Woke up inside a nuclear zone
If you read every comment
You’ll never feel free
I’d ask Alexa my question
But she won’t answer me
I’d ask her the question
But I already know
We need you
To beat the fake news
We need you
To beat the fake news
We need you to help us
Through the black mirror blues
Drivin’ down a wicked road
Goin’ where the moon won’t glow
We stood in the shadow and cried
Our leader burned holes in his eyes
So you download the update
To keep living free
I’d ask Alexa my question
But she’s ignoring me
Yeah, I’d ask her the question
But I already know
We need you
To beat the fake news
We need you
To beat the fake news
We need you to help us
Through the black mirror blues
Oh, what a show!
In the wet dream of a lonely Tech Bro
Insta-models and paid Russian trolls
Rub elbows in the ruins of my soul
Now it’s got us going low
We’re blowing low
(So) we need you
To beat the fake news
We need you
To beat the fake news
We need you to help us
Through the black mirror blues
I’ve thought about it
I’ve thought about it
But you’ll never know
You’ll never…
I’ve thought about it
I’ve thought about it
But he’ll never know
He’ll never…
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3. |
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I drank my first Bloody Mary in Barcelona
I spent my first night in jail in New York
I walked a thousand miles from Virginia
Just to trade a cheap spoon for a fork
I went around and around, all over this world
Lookin’ for love in a pub
I made it to London with 10 quid and a hug
And I sold all my guns for some skunk
Low now
I’m so low now
Between nothing and know-how
I’m a transatlantic man on the run
Oh, this world has gone mad
Oh, this world has gone mad
Back in the States by half 7 pm
I’m fresh off the bless-up vibes
I go huntin’ for magic in a Baptist church
Whilst my watch it gives broken time
I run and I run, all over this world
Like a track star hounding for speed
But it’s not the booze that I need
Nor for the drugs that I fiend
But a mastery of love and of peace
Low now
I’m so low now
Between nothing and know-how
I’m a transatlantic man on the run
Oh, this world has gone mad
Oh, this world has gone mad
Like having Marmite for brains
Like piss and vinegar down drains
Like every refugee’s to blame
In sweet Lord Jesus’ name
It’s the inept and inane
It’s redefining “insane”
When you’re the arson and the flame
You’re the top hat and the cane
You’re the Spokesman for Revelations
All curse and no salutations
You’re the main hatred station
Of ancient borders and old nations
Oh, this world has gone mad
Oh, this world has gone mad
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4. |
Trap Interlude (Ego)
01:10
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I’ve got something to say to you
You’ve been draggin’ my name around
All over town
You’re a slave to the Ego
So you won’t let it go
You won’t let it go
You’re a shark in cargo shorts
You keep telling lies
To hide the hurt
And the tide is changing now
The tide is changing now
The tide is changing now
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5. |
Sexy Music
05:26
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You want it, you need it, you get it, you split it
In a box at the end of the world
Your mother is calling; Paris has fallen
Better load up on p.k.’s & pearls
It’s two o’clock—too soon to stop
Hey, play no rock—the kids wanna groove
Too numb to brood, too loose to lose
It's time to fuck away the chyron blues
Let's get it on
Let's get it on
From dusk till dawn
We've got no time for protest songs
I'm talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin' sexy music
We’re talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin’ sexy music
They don’t know you, but they want to
They wanna go down all of your roads
Ditch the map, kid… Big heart attack with
Disco bones and a drip nose
She see baby in the corner, and she never felt warmer
Her tongue on the skin of a toad
"We've got five years,” says the news guy
To hell with his blue vibe!
The world burns and we move slow
Let's get it on
Let’s get it on
From dusk till dawn
We've got no time for protest songs
I'm talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin’ sexy music
We’re talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin’ sexy music
We’re talkin’ sexy music
We’re feelin’ sexy music
We’re groovin’ sexy music
We're doin' sexy music
Don't come preachin' 'bout pollution
And you can keep your dreams of sweet revolution
There's a great storm gatherin' high in every sky
Our shrewd solution is to buck it—stayin' dry & gettin' lucky
While we die inside
Let's get it on
Let’s get it on
From dusk till dawn
We've got no time for protest songs
I'm talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin’ sexy music
We’re talkin’ sexy music
I’m talkin’ sexy music
We’re talkin’ sexy music
We’re feelin’ sexy music
We’re groovin’ sexy music
We're doin' sexy music
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6. |
American Storm
04:29
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I took a trip on down to Key West
I stopped in my Virginia for a little rest
Woke up to eight guns loaded, pressed against my chest
And then I marched
For our lives
Yeah, we marched
For our lives
Come on, youth, it’s on you
To heed the call
These old cowboys wanna burn it to the ground
(They wanna burn it down, they wanna burn it down)
So come on, youth, it’s on you
To change the song
You’ve got to save us all
From the storm
Hard to trust that this sick weather will change
When every pattern in the sky warns of more hard rain
When your high school’s a death trap
The Baptist church a bloodbath
And the Waffle House across town
Is one more tortured battleground
If it’s gonna be that
Leave the flags at half-staff
If you can stand to let it last
Then leave the flags at half-mast
Come on, youth, it’s on you
To heed the call
These old cowboys wanna burn it to the ground
(They wanna burn it down, they wanna burn it down)
So come on, youth, it’s on you
To change the song
You’ve got to save us all
From the storm
Come on, youth, it’s on you
To heed the call
These old cowboys wanna burn it to the ground
(They wanna burn it down, they wanna burn it down)
So come on, youth, it’s on you
To change the song
You’ve got to save us all
From the storm
The American Storm
Alyssa Alhadeff
Scott Beigel
Martin Duque Anguiano
Nick Dworet
Aaron Feis
Jaime Guttenberg
Chris Hixon
Luke Hoyer
Cara Loughran
Gina Montalto
Joaquin “Guac” Oliver
Alaina Petty
Meadow Pollack
Helena Ramsay
Alex Schachter
Carmen Schentrup
Peter Wang
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7. |
Woodwork
04:44
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I fell asleep to the sound of a new year
Commercials sellin’ products tellin’ me how to cheer
I need a map for all the friends that I’ve lost
They move away or find a friendship with a lower cost
My mind is made like a bed no one sleeps in
I try to talk to myself, but I won’t listen
Spending money at the market, wasting my time
I look in vain for the apple of my eye
I look in vain for the apple of my eye
I search in vain for the apple of my eye
My voice it quivers in the quiet of a closet
All my eggs fall through holes in holy baskets
I keep the past held tightly in my hands
Lest I let it go and have to face the present
Nothing changes but the fret I put my fingers on
Nothing changes but the name I call each same song
Dirty water from a spigot sets the tempo
I’m a burnt-out house with broken windows
I’m a burnt-out house with broken windows
I’m a burned-down house with no windows
I woke up to the sound of a bird’s chirp
It made me want to come out of the woodwork
To learn the language of the bird and the way it sings
So I could know when they’re talkin’ about me
They call me wack, they call me brat
They call me pretty thing
They call me cat—tragic and deceiving
I can’t create when they beat me exhausted
Take my head here, it’s rotting and nostalgic
Take my head here, it’s rotting and nostalgic
Take my head it’s gone, rotting and nostalgic
I’ve done enough
Laying low
I took my time
I took it slow
I let it go
Let bridges burn
I’m coming out
I’m coming out
I’ve done enough
Laying low
I took my time
I took it slow
I let it go
Let bad bridges burn
Now I’m coming out of the woodwork
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8. |
Cosmic American Blues
04:09
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21 years old
I was livin’ in New York City
Waitin’ tables downtown
Tryin’ to save a pretty penny
My dreams were so big
My head high in the clouds
I knew the day would come
I’d finally step out
I would board that plane
In a pair of maroon boots
Bound for Paris, France
With these Cosmic American Blues
Come Sunday on the first of June
I land in the City of Light
Pretty soon I was stayin’ out late
Gettin’ drunk, singin’ songs all night
Rosé chilled for days
It’s a party on the Seine
When just then up came a girl
With cherry-blonde curls named Ren
She said
"Monsieur Brooklyn”
“Won’t you play me one more chune?”
“Then we can head back to my place”
“And you can sing your Cosmic American Blues"
So one night we were passin’ bottles
Down by the old canal
Gettin’ loud, drawin’ a crowd
We was dancin’, singin’ Jacques Brel
3 am in the sleepy 10th
It’s a party in the streets
I’m flirtin’ with a banlieu bird
When I look up, you know what I see
It’s the bored authority
Come to give us real bad news
They drove me down to the station
I was pleadin’ my Cosmic American Blues
Ten till four, four on the floor
When they threw me in a short corner
I begged for a Chinese lawyer
I said, "I’m only just a poor foreigner"
They claimed I took aim with my six strings
Pointed in their direction
But chained up, I was kickin’ and screamin’
“My guitar is not a weapon!”
And they said
“Qu’est-ce que tu veux, monsieur?"
"C’est le bleu, le blanc et le rouge?"
But all I wanted was some wine to feel fine
With my Cosmic American Blues
Oh, it’s what they do to me
They get me so low
I get so low
And I swear
It’s what they do to me
They get me so low
I get so low
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9. |
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You can be famous
If you find more friends
You can be a part of our lives
You can be a critic
If you taste more bread
You can lead us if you tell more lies
And we’ll eat
Up all your shit
For a short bit of time
You’re fast food for society’s eyes
You can be a hero
If you bring your own beer
You can be one of the guys
You can be Chagall, Paul Cézanne or Vermeer
If you bring us to the front of the line
And we’ll eat
Up all your shit (we’ll eat up all your shit)
For a short bit of time
You’re fast food for society’s eyes
And we’ll eat
Up all your shit (we’ll eat up all your shit)
For a short bit of time
You’re fast food for society’s eyes
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