Song | Avoiding Catatonic Surrender |
Artist | Tim Barry |
Album | Raising Hell & Living Cheap: Live in Richmond (Live) |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
It’s lonely in the Garden State, the place of no left turns | |
In a motel 6 in East Brunswick smoking till my lungs burn | |
I put ice in the trash can to cool down my beer | |
Breathe in the perfume in the room of the person last here | |
I can’t stand this singing | |
I can’t stand this song | |
I can’t stand being home, but I can’t stand being gone | |
My ears ring when it’s quiet and I ain’t hear a thing all day | |
And I’d call if I could but right now I ain’t got nothing to say | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can’t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
So on | |
First night we met we fucked on the couch in my living room | |
And spent the morning pretending it didn’t happen, searching for your lost phone | |
Which I found between the cushions below a pile of our clothes | |
You said you couldn’t leave without it, Lord, I should have kept my eyes closed | |
I left for work directly then for a fifteen hour day | |
Made just over a hundred bucks, none of which I ever saved | |
Didn’t hear too much from you before, never heard from you again | |
Cause as soon as this shit starts, boy it’s, it’s bound to end | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can’t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
I throw empty beer cans at the TV when I’m watching the news | |
I hate republicans, I hate democrats, I hate liberals too | |
I think pacifists are weak, and violence is wrong | |
But I go limp for police and I fight when it’s called for | |
The truth is I don’t know or care with who or where I fit in at all | |
But I keep on living simple, riding fast and living slow | |
I write standard boring songs with boring standard chords | |
Just like the best and the worst, verse chorus, verse chorus, bridge, repeat | |
And so on | |
So long | |
Can’t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
I can’t keep singing these songs | |
And so on | |
So on |
It' s lonely in the Garden State, the place of no left turns | |
In a motel 6 in East Brunswick smoking till my lungs burn | |
I put ice in the trash can to cool down my beer | |
Breathe in the perfume in the room of the person last here | |
I can' t stand this singing | |
I can' t stand this song | |
I can' t stand being home, but I can' t stand being gone | |
My ears ring when it' s quiet and I ain' t hear a thing all day | |
And I' d call if I could but right now I ain' t got nothing to say | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
So on | |
First night we met we fucked on the couch in my living room | |
And spent the morning pretending it didn' t happen, searching for your lost phone | |
Which I found between the cushions below a pile of our clothes | |
You said you couldn' t leave without it, Lord, I should have kept my eyes closed | |
I left for work directly then for a fifteen hour day | |
Made just over a hundred bucks, none of which I ever saved | |
Didn' t hear too much from you before, never heard from you again | |
Cause as soon as this shit starts, boy it' s, it' s bound to end | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
I throw empty beer cans at the TV when I' m watching the news | |
I hate republicans, I hate democrats, I hate liberals too | |
I think pacifists are weak, and violence is wrong | |
But I go limp for police and I fight when it' s called for | |
The truth is I don' t know or care with who or where I fit in at all | |
But I keep on living simple, riding fast and living slow | |
I write standard boring songs with boring standard chords | |
Just like the best and the worst, verse chorus, verse chorus, bridge, repeat | |
And so on | |
So long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
I can' t keep singing these songs | |
And so on | |
So on |
It' s lonely in the Garden State, the place of no left turns | |
In a motel 6 in East Brunswick smoking till my lungs burn | |
I put ice in the trash can to cool down my beer | |
Breathe in the perfume in the room of the person last here | |
I can' t stand this singing | |
I can' t stand this song | |
I can' t stand being home, but I can' t stand being gone | |
My ears ring when it' s quiet and I ain' t hear a thing all day | |
And I' d call if I could but right now I ain' t got nothing to say | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
So on | |
First night we met we fucked on the couch in my living room | |
And spent the morning pretending it didn' t happen, searching for your lost phone | |
Which I found between the cushions below a pile of our clothes | |
You said you couldn' t leave without it, Lord, I should have kept my eyes closed | |
I left for work directly then for a fifteen hour day | |
Made just over a hundred bucks, none of which I ever saved | |
Didn' t hear too much from you before, never heard from you again | |
Cause as soon as this shit starts, boy it' s, it' s bound to end | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
I throw empty beer cans at the TV when I' m watching the news | |
I hate republicans, I hate democrats, I hate liberals too | |
I think pacifists are weak, and violence is wrong | |
But I go limp for police and I fight when it' s called for | |
The truth is I don' t know or care with who or where I fit in at all | |
But I keep on living simple, riding fast and living slow | |
I write standard boring songs with boring standard chords | |
Just like the best and the worst, verse chorus, verse chorus, bridge, repeat | |
And so on | |
So long | |
Can' t keep singing these songs | |
Too long | |
And so on | |
And so on | |
And so long | |
I can' t keep singing these songs | |
And so on | |
So on |