Living Color

by George's Bush

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about

Cassette includes download and lyric sheet.

credits

released May 1, 2016

Jeff Eff. - Drums
Roacher N. - Bass
Wil Eh - Vox
Zacker Oh. - Guitar

Cover by Wil.
Produced by George's Bush and Lyle.
Special thanks to Brad, Melissa, Jim, and Jan.

Dickbird Records 2016

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about

George's Bush Green Bay, Wisconsin

Punk rock straight out of the culturally desolate, mid-western hellhole that is Green Bay, WI.

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Track Name: Loose
Body starts shakin’, head's in the clouds
Feelin' Loose
Got no control, I'm just rollin' on the ground
Feelin' Loose

They're out to get me

When I get up it seems I always get back down
I hear you voice like you’re talkin’ in my mouth

They're out to get me

My vision's red, I can see the things behind me.
My breath is icy, I shake every time I breathe.
Track Name: Mommy Stole My Needles
3:15, got off the bus
Couldn't wait, to shoot up
Homework done, grades are good
Everything is like it should
Ran upstairs, to my room
unaware, of my doom
Boiled smack, spoon in hand
just tied off, rubber band.
Went to check, for my sticks.
They were gone, holy shit.
On the edge of freaking out
I need my fucking needles now
Track Name: Motel 6
Spend all my nights, in this $40 cell
This must be the closest thing to a fucking living hell
Hangin' with the whores, and junkies of the city
Where all of the scumbags come to stay

Sleepin', in someone else's piss
at the motel 6
Where all of the tweakers get their fix:
at the motel 6

Bloodstains on the walls and needles in the sheets
You'd been better off just sleep in on the streets
Watch out for the rats and roaches on the floor
Don't ever turn your back to the front door
Track Name: Drudgery
Sneak out with me sneak out with me sneak out with me, yeah. Woah-oh-oh.
Yeah you’re whimpy yeah you’re whimpy yea you’re wimpy, yeah.

You know there's drudgery in my life and I have a problem and no one wants to listen-

Hardcore wimpy speedcore wimpy metalcore wimpy, yeah.
Track Name: Who's To Blame?
What do we do when there’s no more oil?
What do we do when everybody is dead?
Where do we go when the bombs are dropping?
Who's to blame for the gun at my head?

What's the prize for assimilation?
Who's to say that I am a threat?
How do I know there'll be a tomorrow?
What do we do when nothing's left?
Track Name: Diggin' For Love
My kind of girls, they don't talk too much
They mind their own business
They don't buy, expensive things
no diamonds no pearls no wedding rings

Diggin' for love, at the city morgue

They don't fight they always play nice,
and when they be good girls I'll treat them right.
They don't cry 'bout a single fuckin' thing
but when they stay too long they start to stink

When the time comes 'round for me to bring her home
I'll put her six feet down into her hole.
Grab another hot fuck that died this week
take her home, have sex, and go to sleep