1. |
||||
|
Every single time that she's around, my knees are getting weak.
My palms are getting sweaty while my body shakes. Man, I can barely speak,
because the vision's fucking blurred. I lose track of time. It feels like mere eternity.
It's always one step forward, two steps back when she is here with me.
But there's no mercy in her eyes. No doubt about what she is here for.
I know that she can't wait no longer, she wants more and more and more.
Friday night, we're getting prepped. She's dressed to kill and I won't be late.
Pre-gaming in full effect, I'm beyond stoked we're on a date.
But what the hell? She teases all the jocks and won't stop twerking to the beat.
Just makes me pay for drinks and cigarettes, but then again keeps ignoring me.
And there's no mercy in her eyes. No doubt about what she is here for.
I know that she can't wait no longer, she wants more and more and more.
So we're grinding, picking, slowly licking. My heart skips a beat.
While I'm a hopeless weird romantic, she just wants my weed.
Good homegrown weed.
But I don’t care, as long as she’s with me.
|
||||
2. |
She won't go
02:51
|
|||
|
Tonight’s the night and as sure as hell I am gonna surprise her.
I’m beyond stoked. I’ve got tickets for two, though I was totally fleeced.
Guess what: We’ll celebrate our anniversary down in the pit.
This year my gift is really special. No bullshit!
I grab my boots, my spandex pants and my bandana.
While getting dressed I start to wonder if her style will really fit.
Man, I cannot escape the feeling that somehow she just got me wrong.
Are high heels, hot top and mini skirt rock show appropriate? Well, Anyway...
We will headbang on the left. Then we will pogo to the right.
Get high on drugs and high on life. Melt faces, put the party in overdrive.
I’ve got it pictured in my head: Just her and me. Tonight‘s no time for bros.
(Just then...) She kills my daydream: It’s girls night out, oh no!
Cause she won’t go to the show with me oh no. She won’t go to the show,
I’m devastated. Cause she won’t go to the show. She and her girls are on the prowl. She won’t go to the show, I’m devastated.
Oh, she won’t go, she won’t go, she won’t go to the show. She won’t go, she
won’t go, oh no, she won’t go to Mötley Crüe with me.
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
The best thing to do when you’re heartbroken or bored
is writing songs of all sorts.
But remember to keep ‘em fricking short, before you
run out of chords.
|
||||
4. |
As good as it gets
01:59
|
|||
|
I’m at a party with myself and didn’t bring any flowers.
I just grabbed a bag of ice at the station downtown when I filled up the truck.
Stole some basil from the neighbours, brought a dried out lemon
from under the driver’s seat.
I’m having a boy night out all alone a.k.a. shit is fucked.
I wish the party was at yours with only cool peeps invited.
There’s some decent Brubeck and Davis and Getz wafting right from the back.
No awkward silence just nice talk about stuff like science.
While the reefer goes round and round and round, you know it’s puff, puff, pass.
But here I’m talking to myself, writing to myself,
singing to myself how I am losing grip.
And keep on talking to myself, writing to myself,
singing to myself ‘bout how I feel like shit.
This is as good as it gets.
Still at the party with myself and still ain’t got no flowers.
I ran out of ice, out of crisps, out of Havana Club.
Guess the basil was just some stupid thyme and the lemon was mouldy.
Yeah that’s one hell of a night out a.k.a. shit is fucked.
|
||||
5. |
Catsuit
03:11
|
|||
|
Darkness comes up crawling, fear does fill the air.
The city’s put in chokehold, reigned by terror and despair.
While all the villains prep for their nocturnal spree of crime.
Rest assured, redemption’s on its way. We’ll all be doing time.
Rest assured for everything will be alright. Yeah, it will be alright.
Black latex and leather, you’re a kinky piece of art
and I’m here for the precious stuff, trying to steal your diamond heart. Knowing
there’s a lot more vultures out there looking for some prey
that you might hunt down and beat up ruthlessly,
just as you’d do to me.
Let all those evil deeds be, let them be in vain.
Those who take the risk must feel the endless pain.
Strike down upon them, put them all right into jail.
Prosecute all helpless sinners and let justice prevail.
So come on, honey, put that catsuit on.
So come on, honey, put that catsuit on.
You can cuff me to the rack, show me where I do belong.
Let me be the villain all night long.
|
||||
6. |
You are the greatest
03:34
|
|||
|
If only the days just had some more hours,
and if I wasn’t such a coward
I’d use my fictional super-powers to spend
some extra minutes with you.
Cause 24/7 of you ain’t enough.
Life without you sometimes gets pretty rough.
And I am losing my mind, fuck things up all the time,
I can’t cope with this shit in here.
Cause you are the greatest, the greatest... and the hottest one around.
You are the greatest, the greatest when it comes to painting the town
in red. The greatest, smartest, cutest, hottest, sweetest piece of tartlet.
You are the greatest, and you’ve got a great ass, but that’s just a fun fact.
Here is to all the endless road trips we’re on.
Here is to all those crazy nights.
Here’s to the mediocrity of this song.
Here’s to us cause we have made it out alive.
No end in sight, no!
|
||||
7. |
First row seats
02:23
|
|||
|
I just don’t care if you call me a quitter.
I know I’m a sinner among all the saints,
who puts all of his trust in an odd crystal ball.
Well, I’m stuck here playing a different game.
I am a wreck, ran aground, stopped the passage.
And only your drugs keep my demons at bay.
This is a nightmare I wait to wake up from. Now
listen to me when I say:
Give me your love and give me a kiss.
Give me your lies, cause that’s what I miss.
Give me your love and give me a kiss. You’ll get first row seats to my neurosis.
First row seats to my neurosis.
Cool drinks and popcorn and nachos included.
Red velvet armchair, tomatoes to throw.
And when the curtain falls I’ll make a fool out of myself.
Lean back, welcome to the show.
|
||||
8. |
You broke my heart
00:45
|
|||
|
You broke my heart, I can't stop whining.
You broke my heart, no silver lining.
You broke my heart, now I've got two and lot's of time.
So I call my friends, here‘s what they‘ll do: They stand in line.
I tell them:
Saturdays are for the boys again.
Saturdays are for the boys again.
Pour the light beer beer down the drain. Load the bong. Go ba-da-bang.
Because saturdays, they're the next big thing. They're for the boys again.
|
||||
9. |
Misanthropogo
02:24
|
|||
|
To all you airbrains, all you lost souls:
It’s about time to smoke you out in your rat holes.
The fuse was lit to make you cut your shit for good.
Why do you still feel urged to spill
your crap on everybody else? Go fuck your drill!
It ain’t the truth, it is just bloody lies you tell.
By now the folks are sick and tired of intimidation,
‘cause the future’s at stake and no one needs this nation state
of segregation
and injustice, that you create.
Misanthropogo. Misanthropogo. (Just so you know:)
Drop dead you agitators, you turncoats,
you ecpathic shitheads. We’re gonna smite you.
We’re gonna misanthro-fuckin-pogo in your face
and beat your asses day and night!
|
||||
10. |
Bella
02:31
|
|||
|
Hey Bella, you know that you’re one hella
cutie and storyteller, a cinderella that’s meant for me.
So, Bella, hear what I’ve gotta tell ya.
You’re like the Anti-Cruella de Vil, you’re my thrill,
you’re the girl of my dreams!
Hey Bella, I wanna be the fella right by your side.
Down by the bay of Manila smoking good sensimilla at sunset each day.
And Bella, I’ll bring some Sarsaparillas for you and me
and loads of Gorilla Glue so you’ll see
that my love is for real.
We’ll spend the whole night at the beach
with waves washing round our feet.
In this moonlit scenery
there’s only us, cause that’s all we need.
Come on, come on play the uke for me.
Come on, come on, sing a song for me.
I just don’t care if it’s out of tune or
if the chords are slightly wrong.
Let me hear your angelic voice, babe,
so I can hum along.
|
||||
11. |
Split
00:24
|
|||
|
Hey, come on fellas, it is bowling time. You’ve gotta pick your favourite.
There’s only gonna be one champ tonight and the score board is already lit.
The problem is: We’re fuckin’ drunk again and all our skills just equal shit.
We miss the lane and bowl nothing but bloody splits.
|
||||
12. |
She's got a Ph.D
04:08
|
|||
|
Awesome. She is so awesome.
Her track record is the most impressive one I’ve ever seen
and apart from that,
she's a bombshell and pure fun.
When it comes to screwing around she is a rocket in bed when on lean.
She reads all those books about gender and porn.
When she uses references, I’m so turned on.
When she cites me in her paper abstract,
I‘ ll give her a pearl necklace in reward.
Science is fun when it's an applied one,
meaning that doing research equals doing her.
Now I am enrolled in her class and I don’t care if I completely fail,
'cause I will repeat over and over as long as she cares
about me and my skills.
Learning theory is fun in her graduate school.
She rules the double-blind peer review
and keeps third-party funding me
to get a summa cum laude for free.
She. She is so awesome. Don't you see?
She’s got a Ph fucking D. In advanced pornoraphy.
She. She is so awesome. Don't you see?
She’s got a Ph fucking D. In advanced pornography.
She is so awesome. Yeah.
|
||||
Lookit, Martians! Mannheim, Germany
Four piece pop-punk band hailing from Mannheim, Germany.
If you like Lookit, Martians!, you may also like:
Must Be Nice LP
by Dark Thoughts
The West Philly trio make bouncy, incredibly catchy Ramones-inspired punk; pure pop for heartbroken people.
go to album
Taking cues from Midwestern emo and early ’10 pop punk, this Leeds, UK outfit are full of heart— not to mention hooks.
go to album
YOU'RE NOT THERE
by Pretty Matty
A new track from Pretty Matty finds the band in top form, delivering clean yet crunchy hook-laden power pop with trademark high energy.
go to album
Sydney group Bloods decamped to Seattle to make this brief, punchy EP that pairs punk attitude with sky-high hooks.
go to album
Another perfect release from contemporary emo powerhouse Run for Cover records.
go to album
On their self-titled debut, Pkew Pkew Pkew deliver roaring, in-the-red, gang-shouted rock songs about pizza, beer, and...pizza and beer.
go to album
Please Don't Take Me Back
by Martha
The UK punks' capacity for merging the personal, political, and parochial is so well-developed that it borders on the alchemical.
go to album
