The Bad News Bears EP

by A Paper Tugboat

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about

Thanks to everyone who played on the record.
Short Temper Woman is for Jake.

credits

released March 27, 2012

Recorded by Port City Recording in White Plains, NY and Danbury, CT

Michiel Considine - Songs
Sam Stauff - Everything
Ben Traver - Guitar
Erick Alfisi - Bass
Mike Howard - Drums
Brian Nowell - Horns
Megan Frechette - Vocals

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A Paper Tugboat Connecticut

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Track Name: The Bad News Bears
No one is ever going to treat you right,
stay up late and hold you by candlelight.
They'll just push and shove their arms around you so tight.
No marching band or machine man is going to hold your hands
through thick and thin. They will lie to you about it at the
clubs most every night. Then it's too late for rubbers and blues
bands. And your short dress is the only thing that he remembers.

All those boys with bad attitudes.
Wild-eyed lovers in your living room.
We've got time, the doctor's in.
He's got your medicine:

No more deadbeats skipping bail.
No more hockey freaks with no teeth in the front.
No more loose leaf tea, no more indie scene for me.

So why don't we make a pact in blood on his bigot's tongue
on his loaded gun that he's got outback on the roof-rack of his
favorite pickup truck? Where he tells you that he shoots squirrels,
shoots deer, shoots skunks. And he won't think twice about shooting
this boy in dress up. And you say:

My, my, what a beautiful lie.
My, my, what a beautiful life with no deadweight at your side.

No more pansies living home.
No more bankers bent on selling you their debt.
No more loose leaf tea, no more indie scene for me.

No one is ever going to treat you right,
stay up late and hold you by candlelight
until the bad news bears go win it in the end.
Or that douche bag of a boyfriend comes back again.
Track Name: Firestarter (My Baby Is)
Whistle that song singing Dixie
How heavy is the hand that you hold?
Lover, you’re no fighter. You’ve got no place to go.
You’ve got the whole world in your throat.
You’ve got an iron grip on your coat, it lets you go.

Wide-eye like a baby, you’re cold concrete like a whore
You’ve got those heavy legs meant for loving.
You’ve got those eyes pushed back to the floor.
You’ve got the whole world and more.
You’ve got an iron grip on your sores.

And the men start thinking you’re old
and they know by now, it’s the first to go,
Cassie, you’ve got what I need.
Cassie, now you’re knee-deep in concrete.

“But I survive on all my pie-in-the-sky way of life
but it’s been dragging me down for a while.
Never again. No, never again.”

My baby is a firestarter, she’s always burning at both ends.
My baby sets herself on fire in the end.
Track Name: Short Temper Woman
I've got a short temper woman with a long leash
she lets me roam around the yard
but never close to the streets.
I've got a woman who cooks; she keeps my belly full.

I've got a nighttime scurry-worry slipping away
where you match my socks and tell me what to say.
I've got a woman who just might save my ass someday.

And you walk down the street saying thanks to the people you meet.

Well you set up holes by the side of the road where men fall in
and you don't even know what the hell you need from me.

Because I've got a short temper woman with a long leash
she lets me roam around the yard
but never close to the streets.
I've got a woman who cooks and a woman that keeps me clean.