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lyrics

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.

credits

from Mustache Rides for the Blind EP, track released August 4, 2012

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Go, Robo! Go! Powder Springs, Georgia

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

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