Mild Mannered

by Two Houses

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Written and performed by Two Houses at Columbia College and the Bear Lair.
Recorded by Norman Marston, Wiggles Nardone, Mike Stafiej, Steve Toddei and Two Houses.
Mixed by Norman Marston and Two Houses.
Mastered by Carl Saff.
Art by Matt Davis.
Physical copies pressed by Kyle Manning.


released February 22, 2013

Mike Boren - Guitar, Vocals
Dave Satterwhite - Drums, Vocals
Ryan Smith - Bass, Vocals



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Two Houses Chicago

Triumphant sad bastard music. Reliable rock n' roll.


  • Oct 27
    Gainesville, FL

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Track Name: Cheaper Than College
Head to the glass and the glass to the rain. That streetlight glare is stretching out like strings tied to points on a map, and it's always leading me home.

(The clock on the dashboard goes tick-tock) Count the hours of sleep I'll get, and its burned into my skull. (Close your eyes open them, welcome back) Shed my guitar and drift away, I'm staying in next weekend.

Are you awake? Are you awake? Are you awake? Do you dream of alarms?
Are you awake? Are you awake? Are you awake? Do you know who you are?
Are you awake? Are you awake? Are you awake? It doesn't matter, catch your train.
Are you awake? Are you awake? Are you awake? Drink your coffee get to work.

My vision starts to pixilate, and my skin it's turned to wax paper. The coffee starts to do its job, and that's more than I can say about me.

(The clock on the dashboard foes tick-tock) Count the hours 'til five o'clock, and it's burned into my skull. (Close your eyes, open them welcome back) Blank my mind, straighten my tie, I'm staying in next weekend.

It's been along time since I've seen soft blue mountains on the horizon, or stood at the edge of a pine-beach forest and felt the ocean at my feet. It's been a long time since I stayed up all night to chase the sunrise, or seen a skyscraper I don't know by name.

So where do I go from here, and how do I get there?

I don't want to let that concrete set on my feet. I don't want to get stuck anywhere.
Track Name: Get on My Case
Five p.m. Friday, made the easy choice: the Old Style sign at the bar across the street. I don't need the rent if I don't go home.

Mom's telling you to quit your shitty job, drinking after dawn with the only time you got. Dead end fucking job, dead end fucking mom, dead end fucking life, fuck my life.

So I drink until sleep and sleep until work, and I work until my head's hollowed out, and the coins dropping in just rattle around.

They're blowing our bodies up ten miles wide, picking up the pieces to find those who survived. Our lives have gone to shit, we're getting used to it. Keep taking what you're given until you're dead.

And later after all the whiskey ended in the gutter, I caught the bartender with one last cigarette, she said to me - you'll be riding the El, 8 a.m. Monday morning and there'll be faces and ties and mirrors all around you. All around you. You're beginning to doubt if you'll see the sunlight today, through the concrete and rubble and asphalt and steel, the glass and the mirrors and ties, all around you All around you. There'll be one little thought on your lips, one little thought, all you can do but scream.

And you'll say:
Why do I? Why do I? Why do I live this way?
Track Name: Bildungsroman TL;DR
I couldn't do the math on the time zones from the porcelain tiles of my parent's bathroom. Did you pick up the phone? I can't remember. Was I talking for twenty-two minutes and nineteen seconds to your answering machine?

I went driving late last night with an old friend of mine, who's spent a year marching around in khaki fatigues, in a country your baby sister couldn't find on a map, while I've been writing down the things that men with soft white hands say to me. You know, I think it's time I got a little bit reckless.

Sorting mail and stacking tottering towers of dead men's ideas has left red and black ink stains on my skin, and festering sores on the right side of my brain. (I'm making the wrong kinds of decisions) I've got hair on my chest, my chin and my balls, so why's everyone always snickering when I call myself a man?

Well this past year I've made a couple mistakes. I've fought some boys I shouldn't have drank with. And I slept with some girls I shouldn't have looked at.

Bore a hole in my head and climb right in.