Demonstration

by A Paper Tugboat

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1.
2.
04:00
3.
4.
5.
04:15
6.
06:26

about

Demonstration was recorded in 2009 by Port City Recording in White Plains, NY & Bethlehem, CT.

credits

released January 2, 2010

Michiel Considine- Vocals, Guitar, Piano, Glockenspiel, Melodica, Organ, Percussion, Assorted Snaps & Claps
Sam Stauff- Guitar, Percussion, Organ tracks 5-6, Group Vocals, Assorted Snaps & Claps
Erick Alfisi- Bass tracks 2, 4-6, Glockenspiel track 6, Percussion, Assorted Snaps & Claps
Chris Barry- Drums tracks 1, 2, 4-6
Brian Nowell- Trumpet tracks 1, 2, and 6
Megan Frechette- Vocals tracks 1, 2, 5, and 6
Additional Brass on tracks 1 and 6 by Kevan Mann and Danny Benbow

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A Paper Tugboat Connecticut

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Track Name: Don't Race The Sun
I was a big fool
I was a liar cheating my limbs
but now I've retired
to spend my evenings up in my head.

A girl in a green dress
She moves so soft and sweet in the street
all stuck in her head
trying so hard to fight what she feels

While old men on bar stools
gossip and gloat about all the wars
that they've been fighting
and all of the people that they're fighting for.

You're boy is true blue.
He looked after your kids after she left you.
Always in his head
Trying to remember the words that you said:

Don't race the sun.
Track Name: Magazines
I sit and stare in crowded rooms
while women dance in silk cocoons
They spread out slow on silent stages making noise.
They were burning through your blood like baby boys.
Your friends inject through all of their veins
that salty taste, that drug perfume.
The poison seeps into your veins
You felt used. It was all that you could do.

You were so set on your dreams
that you were meant for the magazines
so you just spread out like they want you to.

Your raccoon eyes like "Holy Smokes!"
poke holes through all of my favorite clothes
But you're the star, so hit the stage
wipe the blood from your nose
take one more shot to the face and come back home.

You were so set on your dreams
that you were meant for the magazines
but you just spread out like they want you to.
And I could dig beneath your feet
below the wreckage underneath
the burning embers blistering your soul
But you've gotta go.
Track Name: Boys In Dress Up
Oh, how obscene
we were right to be there in the street
in our jeans, with our mouths open wide at the scene
of a girl and her dying dog
with her mouth open wide in blue overalls
she was scanning the scene
for the people she needs.

But I choose what I do
by the weights that erect in my hands
and I could stand to be a bit more endearing when I talk,
and when I walk away, and when I stand up straight.

So please,
I agree I am all skin and bones when I speak
and it would seem like I never really cared
but I'll fake it like an actor
with a mouth full of teeth and the money thereafter
I was punching at air
I was punch drunk and weird
wishing you never died.

And the men that you thought you loved
they were only boys in dress up.
Track Name: Remote Control
My lover is remote-controlled.
She moves so smooth inside of you.
She keeps her hair pushed back in clips while she's working.
My husband shoots his weight in dope.
He's always itching for a fix.
The bloodshot eyes and sticky lips, while I'm working.
My god is always at the track
collecting numbers, placing bets.
He stoops out late to his Cadillac, he's not working.

My husband blows up inside of you.
You swore that you thought that you wanted him to.
But it's too late and it tastes like dirt, and she's growing.
My husband turns to face my god, says I'm not fit for carrying on.
God looms in low and shakes his head:
Son, I'm drunk. I don't care if you're dead.
Track Name: Garage Rock
Forget those lazy neckin' teens
with all their shiny flavored lips.
Old men are rubberneckin
their wives in a fit
cuz they don't pay attention to them.
Don't blame me if they catch you
I have already warned you
You're fighting a battle you can't win
and you're only going to lose from here.

Save your breath I couldn't ask for a better time
those garage rock boys are going to lose their minds.
What'll they do when they turn twenty two?
And their dads money runs out too?

So run your mouth
say a prayer for the people you dream about
and head for the road
like a front man you've got somewhere else to go
But they just scream
"you bottom feeding fuckers!"
you stole my dreams
put them on TV, now everybody's watching me.

Oh my god they're throwing shit straight at the wall
and it sticks, and now everybody's swallowing it.
I hardly ever break a sweat when I write rhymes
its a crime.

So run your mouth
say a prayer for the people you dream about
and head for the road
like a front man you've got somewhere else to go
but they just scream
"you bottom feeding fuckers!"
you stole my dreams
put them on TV, now everybody's watching me.

Oh no, I lost my self control
It fell down somewhere in the back of my throat.
Oh no, I think I have to go make somebody happy.
Hot damn, I couldn't understand
the words you whispered in my ears last Saturday.
Rock'n'roll guitars are playing way too loud
and I'm going nowhere now.

Don't blame me if they catch
I have already warned you.
You're fighting a battle you can't win.
And you're only going to lose from here.
Track Name: Cash Machine
All my dreams have turned to rusted beams
in burnt out speeding cars left by the side of the road
And you know how I make it seem,
when the words begin to bleed
and that preacher's saying something that I've heard before.

I go to work each day and I earn my dollar bills.
And I think that makes my mother proud of me.
But I still write my songs
and my stories in my head
I'm never focused on my work at hand.

All those ghosts and all those friends
got dead bent and headed west
where the sun will always shine.
And I could try my whole damn life
to get that money looking right
but I'm up in arms over something I can't do anything about.

But I go to work each day and I earn my dollar bills
and I think that makes my mother proud of me.
But I still write my songs
and my stories in my head.
I'm never focused on my work at hand.

My pinwheel seems to color blue and red
and float beneath my bed.
It sends shivers down my lonesome spine cowering in the dark.
And you know how I make it seem
when the lines begin to bleed
and that preacher's rambling on and on and on and on and on...

Please go and watch your sister settle down
and marry a man who seems alright right now.
Maybe he drinks, but hey just maybe they'll be fine.
What the hell would I know about that?

Maybe I'll give up
Let your family wear me down.
Get a wife and a job and a kid
in some white trash Litchfield town.