Mustache Rides for the Blind EP

by Go, Robo! Go!

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released August 4, 2012

Matt Nix - vocals, guitar
Joe Dolan - bass, vocals, rhodes, banjo
Josiah Hutchison - drums, background vocals, mustache
Gage Barron - synthesizer, programming
Luke Blase - guitar, background vocals

Additional guitar and vocals on "I! Hate! This! Family." performed by Trey Hawkins of Echo Collection.
Additional background vocals on "I! Hate! This! Family." performed by Nicole Sellors.
Trumpet on "Dominionism" and "We Have a Phone to Talk to God" performed by Zach Reinert of Blood Oaks.
Glockenspiel on "We Have a Phone to Talk to God" performed by Zach Benator.
Spoken word outro on "We Have a Phone to Talk to God" written and performed by Hollis Adler.

Recorded, engineered, and mixed by Kevin Sellors at American Revolution Recording Studios in Kennesaw, Georgia, June 28, 29 & July 2, 2012.

All music composed by Go, Robo! Go!

All lyrics written by Matt Nix, except for "I! Hate! This! Family." and "We Have a Phone to Talk to God" written by Joe Dolan & Matt Nix.

Album artwork by Daniel Araujo (

Special thanks to:
- Kevin Sellors for his dedication in the production of this record.
- Everyone who bought merch or came to a show in the past year - your support and patronage made this EP a reality for us.
- Trey Hawkins, Zach Reinert, Zach Benator, Blake Dailey, Hollis Adler, and Nicole Sellors for contributing your talents to our recording session.
- To our friends and families for your continued support.



all rights reserved


Go, Robo! Go! Powder Springs, Georgia

Nerd rock and roll from Atlanta. We're really sexy.

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Track Name: Dominionism
This ain't a song for a Deadhead.
My bar radio is playing Fleetwood.
Two shots, take the whiskey back,
make the rhythm go straight to your chest.

Pretty girl with the vapid smile,
keep telling me more of your problems.
It must be so damn hard
being bred in suburban U.S.

This ain't a song for a savior.
Now the only sound is a sickle.
Lost souls in the schoolhouse halls
will all end up in the ditch.

You think your friends really like you?
You and everyone else in the country.
Time to learn to live and breathe
while you're swallowing all of their shit.

I know I should've loved my mom more.
Keep up, because we're going to hell, girls.
I've been waiting but I don't know what I'm waiting for.
I know I should've read more Tolstoy.
Keep up, because we're going to hell, boys.
I've been waiting but I don't know what I'm waiting for.

This ain't a song with a breakdown.
I think we've fallen out of fashion.
We like it better when you actually understand what we sing.
Track Name: Red Line to Tenleytown
We dug our feet into this hill and stuck our flag,
and we sang our anthem proudly
and we let our city stand.
But, the walls around cities
couldn't save us from within.
Now there's fire on the hillsides
where we throw our children in.

At night, by light, we glow.
Fire fumed in our chests and so..
Whoa-oh, we march on the capitol
Whoa-oh, we march on the capitol

Around every shadowed corner,
another face that we can't trust,
and the fields that hold our fallen
find regalia in rust.
But there's a whisper in the council,
and a rumor in the throng
that the sharpened blade of love
sings a revolution song.
Track Name: I! Hate! This! Family.
It's 4am
I'm in your basement and
That's not the wind
Its just displacement
Such pretty skin
I guess I'll start shipping
These twisted little souls
To where the darkness ends

And they're asleep
But you don't wake em
Is this a dream?
Oh god, you won't wake em
So soft and clean
I think I will take em
Now go to sleep
And forget the screams in the morning

Thank you for participation
Two broken bottles and a sense of elation
Thank you for your participation
You're gonna go where sun don't glow in the ground

A perfect ten
In fact, I must taste them
Such supple skin
I'll make them face him and
Now they're asleep
But they're not dreaming
A thousand little cuts and a sense of completion
Is this the end? - a longing strange feeling
It's us, or them - or am I mistaken?
Wrath comes from within
Or is it me?
There's a monster below and I can't compete.

You're gonna go where sun don't glow in the ground

They're asleep, but you don't wake them.
They're alseep, but they're not dreaming..
Track Name: The Great Parachute Disaster of 1988
I was born a wild thing with big dreams in suburbia.
Misguided heart with good intents on the sleeve.
You are the king of an otherwise discarded castle,
succumbing to bigger dreams in the summer heat.

Back the tape up, stare at the point in question.
Examine the modes and the methods we can make this work.
You don't know how, and I can tell that by your inflection.
Just remember that you're the one that screwed up first.

And I think I'm having a hard time
understanding the parameters of you and I.
Whoever said that I'm ready, that whoever lied.
And now I think it's time you apologize.
It's not a secret on your lips anymore.

Was I the product of all of her fears?
You can't call in sick from 22 years.
I don't want to be angry anymore, no.
I see you trying and that's all I can ask for.

This is the point where the train's on the tracks.
This is the point of the jump and no looking back.
You act so shocked I have a finger to point.
I try to tell you but all you hear is white noise.
I know there's sorrow in your heart to show.
It takes time for these young seeds to grow.
You can't change what happened, and that you know.
Now we have the rest of our lives to follow.
Track Name: We Have a Phone to Talk to God
Television comes on and you change the channel.
You change that channel more than I can handle.
A war on drugs, a war on terror.
War on post-market consumer error.

I guess God didn't pick up the phone
when you were spending your night alone.
They say to live is to deceive.
They say to die is to believe.

I met a priest on the side of the road,
and he said, "Son, can I buy your soul?"
The father and son, they put on ice.
That holy ghost, he don't play nice.

We have a phone to talk to God.
We know the ways of his resolve.
We paid the price now for our sins,
they say we'll get to heaven.

When the waters drag your dead up,
don't you know to keep your head up
long enough for you to see
yourself dragged into the sea.
Getting drunk to beat your friends up.
Don't you know that it's been enough?
Oh, my lost loves.
Oh, my lost loves...