1. |
Let's Not
04:14
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Don’t know how to say this right
Don’t think I’m coming by tonight
Brain and body in a little fight
Don’t know who’s gonna win, this match is tight
Seen it all before, like that’s so raven
Basic connection is makin’ me craven—
Well that’s rich, is there a way to scratch this itch
Without reaching for the calamine?
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
So let’s just commiserate
Let's not
and say that we did
Lets not, Lets not
Come on get in the crib
Lets not, and say that we did
Let's not, let's not
Harrison Cribb
You approach me, say let’s make a plan
But I don’t know how to broach it, can’t be a man
I’m just a boy
Wanna play with my toys
It’s a dose of masochistic joy
When I—just can’t bring myself to dial,
tryna walk single file down the aisle
I know you’re smitten,
Like a hand in a mitten
But heart’s a little too cold for that
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
So let’s just commiserate
Let's not
and say that we did
Lets not, Lets not
Come on get in the crib
Let's not, and say that we did
Lets not, Lets not
Harrison Cribb
I’m tongue-tied, sweaty-palmed
I ain’t dead in bed, but my libido’s embalmed
Papa might’ve raised a coward
But it’s a strange source of power
Flaking on plans by the hour
Is there a way to be left alone—
While also warming your bones?
I could go get some courage on loan
But it’s just so goddamn good staying home
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
I can’t commit
So let’s just commiserate
Let's not
and say that we did
Lets not, Lets not
Come on get in the crib
Let's not, and say that we did
Lets not, Lets not
Harrison Cribb
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2. |
Dengue Fever
02:34
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AND I WAS SICK
...
AHHH!
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3. |
Breakfast For Dinner
05:41
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Ridin’ home, 3 a.m. on summer night
Away from the pretense and the artificial light
You, pretty little lady in the passenger seat
Ask me real sweet if there’s somethin’ to eat
I don’t have anything in the fridge (at home)
Haven’t filled it since I crossed the Brooklyn bridge
But then I remember, off exit 11
A restaurant that’s open 24/7 (well, this must be heaven)
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Pullin up to the yellow sign shinin’
Can’t believe I’m about to be lavishly dinin’, with you, girl
Two fry cooks, Mort ‘n Larry, greet us
Colder than a mortuary, but they gonna feed us
You ask for peppered, smothered homefries (damn)
While I just order up another side of those hazel eyes (DAMN)
I get down on one knee for the first time in my life
Put down my menu, ask can you be my wife?
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Breakfast for dinner, Breakfast dinner, we call it supper now
Baby can’t believe you said yes
Got a little grease spot on that wedding dress
Waiter name of Cameron is hammin’ it up
Says that he’s ordained, while he’s topping off your cup
Make up our vows on the spot
Girl I love you a lot, and now we’ve tied the knot
Can’t believe I’m your groom, and now we’ve consumed
so let’s go now consummate
You’ve made this waffle house a home
You’ve made this waffle house a home, baby
You’ve made this waffle house a home tonight
You’ve made this waffle house a home
You’ve made this waffle house a home, baby
You’ve made this waffle house a home tonight
You’ve made this waffle house a home
You’ve made this waffle house a home, baby
You’ve made this waffle house a home tonight
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4. |
D.P.M.Y.
05:17
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Who believes this?
Who inside me has been creating this story?
Hello my young boy
OH LAWD
Can’t tell if I’m ready to be a father this early in life
Can’t tell if I’d make good fodder for a father to a daughter or a spouse to a wife
Said I can’t tell, I can’t tell, honey
I can’t tell, I can’t tell, baby
Can’t smell, but that’s just because I got the lingering effects of the coronavirus nineTEEN
Could I even raise a tween?
Or maybe a teen—hell,
I could em to eleven or maybe even twelve
First you get a little bit of vinegar
Then you get a little bit of the salt
Then you get a mason jar and put my young in there, but be sure that you tell ‘em that it’s not their fault
First you get a little bit of vinegar
Then you get a little bit of the salt
Then you get a mason jar and put my young in there, but be sure that you tell ‘em that it’s not their fault
Oh lord, these beans ain’t mung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
It’s not over til the fat lady’s sung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
Don’t psychoanalyze me like Carl Jung
I just don’t want you to pickle my young
I don’t see how this is any fun
I don’t want you to pickle my young
Can’t tell if I’m ready to domesticate
A tiny little feral kid
Can’t tell if I’m ready to resign my fate
And stare down the barrel of this cracker’s lid
Can’t tell, what’s the distance?
Would there be any difference?
Why must we give such vast deference
To the vas deferens?
Oh please, don’t put my son
Into a little jar of vinegar please
It’s bad for his knees
Oh please, don’t put my son
Into a little jar of vinegar please
It’s bad for his knees
Oh lord, these beans ain’t mung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
Climbing Jacob’s ladder, missin’ that next rung
Don’t want you to pickle my young
You’re gonna have to put me in an iron lung
Cause I can’t have you picklin’ my young
I love my perfect little precious son
I don’t want you to pickle my young
It’s a bad habit, and you ain’t no nun
So—why’re you trying to pickle my young?
I’m at the gallows, but I ’m not well hung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
You’re tryna roll ‘em up like a beetle does dung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
Rachel Carson, Silent Spring has sprung
I don’t want you to pickle my young
Don't want you to pickle my young
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Simma Asheville, North Carolina
We represent all that is good in this world. We hope our masterful art, our impeccable craft, touches your soul. Even if a mere fraction, a hair, of how much it fuels our egos, our ideas of self worth, our bank accounts, our ancestral longings. We love you, but not as much as we love ourselves. We want the world to hear our sacred swan song, before we hit retirement age. We are lonely. ... more
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