Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
I sat along the rocks and watch the cold Maine water rush away.
The sun and my guitar and I knew what you were doing yesterday.
You broke those promises but I’ll get over it.
‘Cause as long as I’m breathing fresh air I don’t really give a shit
So I’ll complain for the next ten years, but remember that sometimes things are great.
I didn’t have directions and I hadn’t eaten anything all day.
We sucked a fat one and wasted a hundred dollars just to play.
I ate a bag of peanuts right before the windy road.
And I couldn’t drink a thing all night ‘cause of the vomit in the back my throat.
Then you gave me your number and your sweatshirt so I didn’t give a shit.
So I’ll complain for the next eleven years, but remember that sometimes things are great.
You don’t own me! You don't own me!
I worked my ass of my entire life to accomplish one dream.
It started happening and everything was bastardized my greed.
I said “pull this shit over and let me out
I swear to fucking God I’m fucking giving up right now”
And now I’ve got a brand new start, I remember that something are great.
Scream it in apartment halls -
Scream it loud in shopping malls -
Take a ball point pen and paint the inside’s of your eyelids with the constant reminder:
You don’t own me. You don’t own me.
Then I was underground without food or sunlight or encouragement.
Depression set in ‘cause I was a product of my environment.
Then the other day, I got in my car.
Pick Glenn Tillbrook up from the hotel, drive him to the bar.
He wore a t-shirt just like me and wasn’t on his phone
and for fifteen minutes I had a conversation with a hero.
So I’ll complain for the next ten years...
And after that we’ll go drink beers until the bar runs out of beers
prepare for the next twenty-three years.
‘Cause if I wasn’t a fat kid in high school, I would have never listened to punk rock.
And if I knew how to throw a football, I would have never played any music.
And if never got my heart broken, I would sing “blah blah fucking nothing.”
And if you didn’t fuck my ex-girlfriend, I would still owe you three-thousand dollars.
And if I never lived in that van I wouldn’t have met Chris or Steve or James, Alex or Middagh.
And if I never worked in a basement I would have never moved out of my house.
And if I had a big emo band or dropped out of college, I would have never met you, man.
"It was all written in Long Island and it is very expressive of my hope to go around the country playing stupid songs for people who will forget me again."
You fucking changed my life Jeff, I won't forget who you are for the rest of my life.