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Not a Heavy Matter

by Skinny Pigeons

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1.
Coco 03:07
Morning Time to get the very first chore in As she pampers the skin With two hours of coddled attention ‘Cause time looks the best When you dress dead bodies Nocturnal squirrels Moshin’ in Allston Rat City Getting giddy with the friends we pick Drinkin’ down stories some folks don’t sip Blonde, hips, quirky black lipstick Do not panic, organic satanic The girl we know by the name Coco Not a musician, but a mortician Her art exhibition stops decomposition By making incisions where no one touches grandma Rubbing freckled skin, Coco grins and begins Spinning with the ever charming thrill of embalming No picky nagger, just a… Sticky cadaver Lathered in soap Trusting Coco won’t grope Her Frankenstein valentine, eager to appear divine Like a naked rose exposed on a silver plate Sewing mouth and eyeballs closed Gives Coco a peaceful date To make up their final expressions Down with thrash metal helps a morbid session When my caterpillar dies I’mma let Coco make me A punk butterfly
2.
There’s a demon livin’ inside of me Though it begs I don’t let him breathe Dopey smoke all he receives That demon livin’ inside of me Ex-girlfriend partying through my thoughts Testing demons without my watch Innocence she all debauched That ex-girlfriend in my thoughts There’s a friend in pain by my lonely hand On the love of his choice when he left the band Don’t you see baby, I cannot stand That friend in pain by my lonely hand I sing the same damn song every night Maybe that’s why things don’t change Ain’t got nothing to do today Except drink my budget ’til I can’t pay Round it past twenty these substances Are costing more than my years Stealing pot from a vacationed roommate At a grandparent’s funeral or something to celebrate So hooked I don’t consider his state Stealing from a roommate Morbid interest attracts me to road kill Car crashes, bar fights, wherever the blood spills Demise of control sparks a peek at thrill Morbid interest attracts me to road kill I sing the same damn song every night Maybe that’s why things don’t change
3.
Mr. Lucky 03:39
Mr. Lucky, watch me drive on by Me and my best friends messed up just right Rollin’ to a party I’m Mr. Lucky, fucky fuck behind a wheel Me and my best friends messed you up right Rollin’ to a party When we arrive Sometimes I think I Should have been drunk inside that car Right next to you Fucked with DUI While I watch my friend drive away In the rear view I’m Mr. Lucky Don’t nothin’ touch me Mr. Lucky, fucky fuck behind the wheel Me and my best friends just might just might Narrowing percentages With a big surprise Sometimes I think I Should have gone head on with a truck Murdering a family And just plain shit out of luck I’m Mr. Lucky Don’t nothin’ touch me Been pushing the devil on a beat up motorcycle Seeing how fast life goes in the dark
4.
She wrapped his head in a cellophane bag Asked “How’s it compare to sensations felt before?” Before, he locked eyes and smiled Clueless words drunk in desire Before At least when he jerks He feels his own hand Get it in What happened? He found a bug in Boston from a certain special friend Which one, who knows, think down the list Pray it ain’t at the end All those sniffly travelers down that worn out beaten road All that skepticism, could it be he was that dirty hoe? You gotta go to Planned Parenthood Because all of you Could be ripe with some fucked up mischief
5.
Tipping objectifies women Tipping objectifies men (but mainly women) Make what you need to make do Not take what I ain’t charged for It’s a moral tollbooth With every beer we buy Without it they can’t feed themselves Why?
6.
Got a blank that needs some solvin’ Or I’ll test it with another trigger Keep on smoking, inhaling dope and Problems keep getting bigger Did all the bills lose my address Or am I just a stressed avoider? Ignoring the day in a bed never made Boiling in disorder Curious to the bliss of death Scared how it stains the day So hard to play when the mood is sour Fingers cold and the mind is sold Only warmth is fetal in the shower Power lost with the drop of the shovel Vanishing in vacation hours Muscle now rubble, shaking from limbs Within, too thin Where to begin? Dirty dish Beg to be scrubbed away Though not today, my old friend
7.
Stuck 02:13
I don’t know if I’ll see you again And all I want is our feet in foreign sand Don’t sleep right any more Betraying every girl I fuck When I’m still stuck to you And now it seems I’m hurting souls like you hurt me When I can’t stop daydreaming of your face And now it seems I’m burning souls like you burned me When I can’t stop daydreaming of your face What am I to do I don’t know if I’ll see you again And all I want is our feet in foreign sand Don’t sleep right any more Betraying every girl I fuck when I’m still stuck to you What do I do? Shut it out
8.
Stem without a rose Can’t find the reason Maybe it’s your season For slouching in the breeze Without a rose A stem can pretend You’ve got a rose No rhyme or reason Caught off season And now bake in that sun (with your new rose) Or are you just a stem that pretends?
9.
Skinny Pigeons on you And they wish to dish you pain Launching from the gutter In a dive bomb for your brain You’d better look up friend You’d better look twice Or you’ll be that sucker And you will pay the penalty (Unsterilized beak) What’s that in the sky It’s coming right for your face Duck Fly; we’ll not let you escape Flight Picks you in a public place Skinny Pigeons on you and they wish to dish you pain Launching from the gutter in a dive bomb for your brain
10.
Baby Fish 03:36
China Baby fish Three foot salamander hot pot dish Living on night trains With nothing to do Except spark another cigarette And pretend that it’s food Living on night trains Preservative stew Living on night trains It’s all looking at you Don’t panic Enjoy the taste of the visual shock Mountains staircase ages, to the land of rising sun Tiger’s free on tap, must be in paradise Rollin’ dice, don’t know the rules, but we’re all getting drunk As communist cats in a Mao Livehouse cellar Traveling bender with emotional friends Dinner with Gunnar, the man who hates drummers Don’t jiggle his pecs, put his knee in your chest The dogs in the streets put the fleas in your sheets Best beware what you eat in this feast of the East Don’t touch the puppies Puppies give you scabies I told you not to touch it (I know, but I wanted to touch it) I’ll touch it… Mao means cat in Chinese! “Mao,” said the communist cat Exterminate the rats Tankman I am just a baby fish In a Chinese hot pot dish
11.
This government’s no better than a zombie Nazi pirate Terrorist, imperialist, suck a serial rapist kiss And dismiss the scent of their side-bitch shag Power coward hungry on a chubby belly roam Coffee-tweaking button pushers safe Within your Vermont home of the free Superiority has claimed morality A unique metal angel shining through the sky Melting the bewildered when the signal triggers die Hey, predator drone Better leave those kids alone Flying with the angels you can catch a deadly rancid scent Wafting over borders in a smog clogged with innocence And denial of choosing the spot to play Pray You can pretend that a soccer ball’s what killed your friend And if you pick another sport That gruesome shit wont happen again Pray you can pretend Is it even worth it to play? It isn’t even worth it to play Hey, predator drone Better leave those kids alone
12.
Whiny Pants 01:52
Whiny pants Why you whine so much? You know you whine too much Fuck the bass player You dick You know you’ve had enough You twat And now your time is up Why?
13.
Together 04:09
We’re together My girlfriend wears bruises when I’m a sloppy cuddler Drowning her in a moment of brief happiness Not around My dad ain’t a bad guy Just ain’t the right guy to have a child And show him what its like to hang around Not around Are we lucky if they don’t stay to make it last? Was I lucky my dad wasn’t there to kick my ass? Don’t worry baby, I’ll be downstairs And don’t worry Dad, I’m gonna fly to Europe We’ll be together
14.
Who will melt first, the ice or me? Marinating in a splash of whiskey With all those things that could ever be I’m wonderin’ who will melt first Be it the ice or me? And who will rebuild that ashtray city? Constructed with stories and a little more whiskey With all those things people say we should do Tell me who will rebuild that city And who will complain about the noise of my tunes? Bitchy neighbors, my solution: they can find another room Because the only thing that I intend to do I’m gonna melt with my drink, and repeat this tune

about

Recorded at the TRACK SHACK in Allston, MA
Engineered, mixed and produced by Cory Best
Mastered by Mike Kalajian @ Rogue Planet
Art by Killian McAssey

credits

released August 19, 2017

On this record, Skinny Pigeons is:
Joey Luna - guitar & vocals
Ian Jones - bass & vocals
Jeff Crenshaw - drums & vocals

Additional contributions by:
Joanne Almeida - gang vocals
Jack Whelan - gang vocals
Alec Alabado - trumpet

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about

Skinny Pigeons Boston, Massachusetts

Avian invasion with a heavy persuasion.

Coming to you from some bird-brained rapscallions in Boston, MA.

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