Spray Me Down

by Dead End Drive-In

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1.
06:15
2.
04:27
3.
4.
5.
07:02

credits

released March 25, 2016

Produced, mixed and engineered by Nick Engwer and Dakota Poncilius
Mastered by JJ Heath

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Dead End Drive-In Vancouver, British Columbia

From Vancouver. Wanna play a show?

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Track Name: Buffalo Bill
A man on a mission
plagued by indecision
you can call it a 'good eye'
but it's just fear of swinging and missing
so now I've gone fishing
cuz I've got my own ambitions
I've got both of my hands out
but all I've got is shit out of wishing

A man with some notions
thinks the world as his oyster-filled ocean
well you better get shuckin, kid
if you want to get that big promotion
well don't show no emotion
march to death in slow motion
you've got two choices in this life
you get the hose or apply the lotion

well this river ain't running
and the water's stagnant
the larvae is hatching
flies are crawling out
well this river ain't running
and the water's stagnant
I'm on another planet
mumbling out the side of my mouth

Spray me down
I'm getting the hose again

Well I hold on to my dreams
or are my dreams keeping me captive?
are ambitions moving me forward,
or are they just keeping me static?
well this world ain't going to embrace you
unless you're born hitting the ground running
cuz if you're not showing it numbers
it's going to show you nothing

the world is cold and uninviting
and it fuels nothing but hate inside me
Track Name: Carrie
Some convictions come into question
It's a slow and sad demise
to know thyself through other's eyes
and if my existence is just someone's perception
then this life has been signed away
so I'll live to keep their scorn at bay

because when knowing who you are
is through the company you keep
you're just a stranger to yourself
trying to appease the judging eyes amongst the sheep

If I can't make a puzzle fit
using scattered shreds of doubt
I'll chew the facts only to spit
back into the horses mouth

Don't get too sweet on feeling 10 feet
because they're all going to laugh
and burn your self-portrait to ash
and what if that faithful reflection
was always pissing up a rope
and grasping to a fool's hope

nobody gets a say
I'll ask my own fucking questions
everybody's just white noise
when I'm speculating my own reflection

You know it's true
they're all going to laugh at you
Track Name: The Ballad of Shane Falco
My face on the milk carton
because I've lose a true voice in this mess
of regurgitated influence
and the sparks, they crackle and fizzle
it doesn't pour when it rains
it just comes as light drizzle

there's a blank page that I've been saving for later
because I just draw doodles when I put pen to paper
and if I get an impulse that's sincere and earnest
I'll still toss it in the furnace

My storm in a teacup
I'll chug it down just as quick as I throw it up
and who said it'd be a dawdle
and who said it'd be a dawdle
and who said it'd be a dawdle
getting lightning into a bottle?

Trying to force this flash of genius
like it's something to hook up
like it's intravenous
but these veins just run bone dry
and every word that I utter
just sounds like blatant lies

but I try to keep this muscle memory pumping
I'm an amnesiac, dimly-lit, hollow headed pumpkin
can't mould and sculpt when my dick's in my hand
and this farm's turned dust and sand
Track Name: Fuck This Existential Crisis Shit
Throw all I've got at the wall
but nothing's sticking
my bruised ego starts to scab
and I start picking
and I feel solace when I'm just
choking my chicken
it plants my feet firmly on the ground
and lets my head balloon into the clouds

A hitched ride upon a breeze
seems so much finer
than pressing dirt into my knees
digging to China
and if I deflated my head
I'd leave behind
everything I like about myself
like I was living life for someone else

Fuck this existential crisis shit
I'm just living for the hell of it
and I'm content sucking the hind tit
fuck this existential crisis shit

Scrape the bottom of the barrel
in search for answers
but it's all to no avail
I'm out to pasture
return to the dusty trail
an old sad bastard
embracing his insignificance
cuz it doesn't mean a thing and never did
Track Name: Far Corner
The sweet smell of candy-coated callousness
test the waters and wade into the shallowness
a packed room can make for such an hollow mess
you're in the rabbit hole, now drink that in and swallow this
the front door should read "abandon hope all ye who enter"
casting qualms aside and gravitate into the centre

I'm not selling out, I'm buying in
because there's still a heart beating beneath this chest of tin
and it longs for validation but gets a looming question
"sink or swim?"

I hate this party
fuck everybody

Tapping my toes, twiddling thumbs
don't want folks to think you're feeling glum, do you?
cry me a river, quit your whining
have another drink and you'll feel fine, won't you?
Sometimes you and the far corner make the perfect fit
I'm an old sad bastard wallowing in his own shit

The party's swinging
as the noose tightens
until the night ends

I hate this party
fuck everybody