1. |
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|
Unfriend me.
I’m living for allocated Diet Cokes now.
They pilled me down and out
and I got no shoe strings
but I got demons drowning me in an inch of water.
Everything tastes like quarters.
Remember: “It’s not me. It’s the disease.”
“Amazing Grace” reverberates off the marble
and fresh polished metal
where I keep catching my reflection
and, sure, I’ve got a dead man’s eyes,
but I’m still breathing.
I’m still breathing
and goddamn I wish that was enough,
41 northbound back to my baby,
headache visions of taillights and rent checks.
Phone rings and she’s got to work a double,
“Yeah, of course hun, I can do the dishes.”
If I could just hold on
to the space between the notes.
Keep holding on.
|
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2. |
Private Life of Brian
02:39
|
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|
I keep a Bible on my bedside table now.
Guess I’m one of those drunks.
I crossed out “Genesis” and wrote down “Cannabis”
and now I’ll never forget just where I come from.
It’s never going away if you believe Jon Stone.
I fall on my knees and it leaves me alone.
Isolation, render me divine.
Isolation, bury me alive.
Wow, I’m totally crossing the rubicon.
Now I’m gonna be fine forever.
Yeshua,
Yeshua,
I don’t leave the house.
Hosanna, hey-sanna, give me a son.
Fill him with illness for sins I’ve done.
Hosanna,
hey-sanna,
sick, sad and stupid for all I’ve done--
my only one.
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3. |
Prosecco with The Douche
02:00
|
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|
Coffee got my cock like coke again.
Jim Miller on my case, like, “Do you think you’ll smoke again?”
I’m lonely like when smoking was my only friend.
Least I’m not broke again,
I guess.
This is the cynical sound.
I needed space to come down.
It’s easy when you’re not around
until I hit the ground.
Lazybones, why are you standing on my love?
I hate when you’re at home
but I can’t be alone without your songs.
Honest to god, I’m going crazy,
my baby.
I’m going crazy.
The feeling! The feeling!
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4. |
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|
Good love comes easy
to those with good luck,
you best believe me.
I’ve been sleeping in my pants
with my penis in my hand.
Pixelate me, eight-bit daydream.
Madeline,
comfy in your clime,
in due time,
leave me behind.
On the airplane,
little boys are better than me--
diet, exercise, vocabulary.
Palpitations ‘cause I miss you,
‘cause the caffeine,
‘cause I’m out 200 bucks from cancellations.
G’d up for a night of masturbation.
Pixelate me, eight-bit daydream.
And I can feel the walls are closing.
95,
where I learned to fly.
When you cry,
I’m ready to die.
And I can feel the walls closing in.
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5. |
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Wake in the afternoon,
shivering in the daylight,
first goddamn sunshiny day of spring.
Feel the breath through The Veil.
The sweat beads on my forehead
whisper, “This world ain’t worth it--
shut the blinds instead.”
Some days it’s not so bad:
I comb my beard.
I tell my wife I love her.
I water the houseplants.
I smile when they bloom.
You know I never even once
punched a motherfucker in the mouth
for asking, “What do you do chief?” No.
No, I’m a thawing comet of hubris
hurtling toward the sun.
Watch me catch fire.
Watch me fall apart.
Every now and then I fall apart.
|
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Two Houses Chicago
Triumphant sad bastard music. Reliable rock n' roll.
Two Houses recommends:
The worst band on earth.
go to album
Sass Dragons once played the basement of a house we lived in and I saw Jimmy's dick and also the porch collapsed. This record is great.
go to album
The boys. Our boys. We did a split with them. Both of their LPs are damn fine.
go to albumIf you like Two Houses, you may also like:
Split EP
by New Junk City / Two Houses
supported by 5 fans who also own “Unfriend”
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supported by 4 fans who also own “Unfriend”
love me some good horn rock... especially accompanied by such an angelic voice. Good shit, gents.
go to album
Jangly, slick pop rock has shades of early Bangles and the Pandoras.
go to album
