1. |
Biopic
02:06
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Books and cigarettes and cigarettes and books
A spit stained mirror with a dirty look
Shards of broken tonics embedded in the carpet
And the whole thing slips away
Carpe diem, spent the whole day sleeping
On a drugstore high, a friend I've been meeting
Every seventh night, when the moon hits the alley
And the whole thing slips away
Hey diddle diddle, tryna ponder up a riddle
That'll blow your mind into 27 little
broken pieces of life, bathed in pale light
Two arbitrary years with a dash in the middle
And the whole thing slips away
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2. |
Empty Rooms
03:14
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I'm hardly on my feet
I'm weak, and maybe what I need
is some good old religion
to bend me at my knees
I never got to find God
but then I never really tried
I just laid on my nailbed
and thumbed my nose at the sky
and asked why, was I built this way
Two arms and two legs
and nine pounds of hate
And I contain my temper with eight
tall cans a day
and maybe
I'm asking questions to empty rooms
Taking my medicine, cleaning the spoon
And I only find my footing on ledges
I'm asking questions to empty rooms again
I'm more disjointed than a broken arm
The birds out my window were keeping me calm
Till they cut down the trees, outside of my gate
Now I've got a beautiful view of a bank
I feel like running till my feet are in pain
And kneel down and crawl the rest of the way
Just to put some space between me and this place
How much do I pay to get out of the race?
I'm asking questions to empty rooms
Taking my medicine, cleaning the spoon
And I only find my footing on ledges
I'm asking questions to empty rooms again
Oh man, I had nothing but plans
To put pins on the map and footprints on the moon
But here I stand, with a gas can and a match
and a quart of cognac and a tune
I'm asking questions to empty rooms
Taking my medicine, cleaning the spoon
And I only find my footing on ledges
I'm asking questions to empty rooms again
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3. |
Small Town Rumours
03:40
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Some people have a pool everybody has a cellar
Small town rumours and big talkin' fellers
It's an okay place to be, a better place to have been
It's a road trip pit stop and they're damn sure proud of it
A dot on the map, a coffee stained dream
on the fabric of our country, a little frayed around the seams
There's not much to talk about, they talk all the same
And they threw a parade when the Google van came
And you can't start eating, till father says grace
And you can't leave the table till you finished off your plate
And you can't be friends with that girl down the lane
There's rumours goin round, no this is not up for debate
Some people have a pool everybody has a cellar
Small town rumours and big talkin' fellers
It's an okay place to be, a better place to have been
It's a road trip pit stop and they're damn sure proud of it
There used to be a 90 speed limit coming into town
They brought it down to 50, folks complained about the sound
Now the cops hide out there with their coffee and their donuts
Catch ya doing 55 when they're tryna meet their quotas
And they still talk about when that city boy came through
And walked into the bar in his city boy shoes
And started talking tough, tryna start beef
Till someone took a pool cue to his city boy teeth
Some people have a pool everybody has a cellar
Small town rumours and big talkin' fellers
It's an okay place to be, a better place to have been
It's a road trip pit stop and they're damn sure proud of it
Well you may grow up but kid, you'll never go far
when you can hardly hit the limit in your old beater car
Population's 800, never goes up or down
Every time a baby's born a man skips town
Some people have a pool everybody has a cellar
Small town rumours and big talkin' fellers
It's an okay place to be, a better place to have been
It's a road trip pit stop and they're damn sure proud of it
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4. |
That Moon Last Night
04:03
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Did you see that moon last night
A top those misty towers
Bathing light on a cloudless sky
In a brilliant crystal shower
Did you see the moon last night
Through the factory’s chimney puffs
So close you could’ve reached it
If you stretched out far enough
Did you hear that sound last night
Like the crack of a baseball bat
In the winter every splinter of a tree rings out
But this couldn’t be mistaken for that
Did you hear that sound last night
Through the endless hum of the town
Ms Sampson said she’s never heard
Anything that loud
Did you feel that wind last night
Mr. Reilly said he nearly froze
I guess I did hear the newsman say
We were due for a burst of cold
But did you feel that wind last night
Like a tremor through your bones
I've never felt anything like that before
It was a different kind of storm
Did you see that man last night
While he was walking away
Mrs Porter on the corner
Said she did not catch his face
Did you see that man last night
Through the waves of drifting snow
There’s some folks hear asking questions
I think they sure would like to know
Did you see that moon last night
A top those misty towers
Bathing light on a cloudless sky
In a brilliant crystal shower
Did you see the moon last night
Through the factory’s chimney puffs
So close you could’ve reached it
If you stretched out far enough
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5. |
Playing God
02:27
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It was Tuesday evening, or was it last Sunday
This medicine has got my brain thinkin kinda funny
About the concept of time, ain’t it just a flat circle?
What kind of effect could one boy have on the world
If everything we do, we already did
But no one suspects the quiet white kid
The ghouls of guilt, are giving me what for
Can’t stop thinking about the knife in my desk drawer
Everything’s shaking, the sky’s coming down
I don’t even have a car to get out of town
Suppers gone cold, the TVs gone to static
The body’s in the basement & the ghost is in the attic
They’re gonna come a-knocking one of these evenings
I think they’ve bugged my phone and put wires in the ceiling
I ripped out all the drywall and just to be safe
I threw out all my paintings art is dumb anyway
The motive was money & it wasn’t even love
To be honest I was just curious about the rush
To see the hands going limp & the eyes going dark
I’m playing God and I’m nailing the part
I wrote my manifesto on the back of a napkin
Mama don’t defend me when they come around askin
I forgot to do the laundry the clothes are in the basket
The body’s in the basement & the ghost is in the attic
The ghost is in the attic, stompin on the baseboards
I'm in the basement, mixing up the hydrogen
The national guard will have to guard me to the court
Just wait till the media puts their spin on this
The ghouls of guilt, are giving me what for
Can’t stop thinking about the knife in my desk drawer
Everything’s shaking, the sky’s coming down
I don’t even have a car to get out of town
Suppers gone cold, the TVs gone to static
The body’s in the basement & the ghost is in the attic
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6. |
||||
I don't know what they want from me
In the middle of the morning
They either want an entertainer
Or they want you dull and boring
A beaten down adult, or a bright eyed kid
I don't know what they want from me and I never really did
I don't know what they want from me
I don't know what they want from me
Later in the evening
I'm just tryna get shit done
And keep my brains off the ceiling
I get too quiet, then I never shut my lid
I don't know what they want from me and I never really did
I don't know what they want from me
I don't know what they want from me
In a bar so seedy
I don't know what they want from me
In an AA meeting
I don't know what they want from me
In my therapists office
I don't know what they want from me and I never really did
I don't know what they want from me
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7. |
Catholic Guilt
03:50
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Holy roller, I see you every morning by the park
Trying to sell me on the promise of a brand new start
A life without the weight of all the trouble, all the sin
Without the notches on the belt I hung my innocence with
Holy roller, I'll bum you a smoke for your time
It's such a blessing that you'd take such an interest in my life
But my troubles are inherent and they've taken their toll
And there's doubt in my soul
My eyes are thinner, than a bible page
I'm too cynical for words, I wouldn't trust them anyway
Another doubt with the blues, another burnt out fuse
As I'm choking on the ashes of the passion of youth, well
Holy roller, let me take a pamphlet for the bus
Pains me to see this cross around my neck go to rust
I'll bust my mirror in the name of Jesus Christ our savior
And live in fear of all my Satan praising heathen neighbors
I recall the church my family would drive to down the road
Dark and musty, iconography that scared me to the bone
It all seemed so daunting at six years old
But by the time I got grown
My eyes are thinner, than a bible page
I'm too cynical for words, I wouldn't trust them anyway
Another doubt with the blues, another burnt out fuse
As I'm choking on the ashes of the passion of youth, well
Holy roller, I see you every morning by the park
Trying to sell me on the promise of a brand new start
A life without the weight of all the trouble, all the sin
Without the notches on the belt I hung my innocence with
My eyes are thinner, than a bible page
I'm too cynical for words, I wouldn't trust them anyway
Another doubt with the blues, another burnt out fuse
As I'm choking on the ashes of the passion of youth, well
Holy roller, let me take a pamphlet for the bus
My phone is dead and the voice inside my head is talking tough
These days, this winters brought a new kind of dark
And there’s a frost on every golden dandelion in my heart
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8. |
Passing Lane
04:41
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Shooting empty stares into the middle distance
The car slipping in and out of the passing lane
Coming home from a lightly attended service
In the Church of the Momentarily Discouraged
We only come to the city for theatre shows and wakes
I'm falling asleep in the back, as the highway lights blaze past
Until the country dark is cast
And dad lights another as the radio hums The Clash
I was young then, too young to tell the difference between
The culture and the scene
The rulebook and the game
And that our trees are fruitful
But we trade peaches with losers
For matchsticks and kerosene
Just to burn them all away
The factories smoke out across the land
And it unites into some sort of rotten man made sunset
And it's hope for the masses of every class
Until the sun comes back, and the factory locks are latched
And then they sit there like a dream that you spend your day trying to forget
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9. |
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Well I haven't gotten up this early since I had a job to go to
Before everything that's happened, happened
And twisted time like a cork screw
My home office is more of a workshop
Projects in progress and a lot of empty soda pops
The morning sun is a little intense
And I never want to wake up this early again
I never want to wake up this early again
This summer's like a fever dream that just won't end
I don't mind to see the sun rise now and then
But I never want to wake up this early again
If I had one of those time travelling Deloreans
I'd start this whole damn year over again
And stockpile beer and cigarettes
And buy up stock in hydroxychloroquine
And open up a restaurant in my own kitchen
And only serve the most basic pasta dishes
We'll work odd hours, and we'll only serve friends
And we'll never wake up this early again
I never want to wake up this early again
I got shakes in my hands, and a pain in my head
I'ma take my first nap around nine or ten
I never want to wake up this early again
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10. |
Somewhere Along The Line
02:57
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Somewhere ‘long the line
Through the golden haze of summer days
To winters fog stealing all your light
From the first day on the school bus
To dropping out and going bust
On rock and roll and drugs and sleepless nights
Somewhere along the line there was a crystal clear sign
That what I thought was mine was never really there
Somewhere 'long the line I just kinda gave up the fight
I guess somewhere along the line I got scared
Somewhere ‘long the line
Through the best of times to the worst it’s gotten
From the silence to the bells that still ring
To the pain that’s right where you left it
To pain as unexpected
As a global pandemic in the spring
Somewhere along the line there was a crystal clear sign
That what I thought was mine was never really there
Somewhere 'long the line I just kinda gave up the fight
I guess somewhere along the line I got scared
Life lackadaisical only turning on pages
The scripts biographical and increasingly crazier
And rolling and turning and rolling right along
And the characters are never there nor are they ever really
Somewhere ‘long the line
Where the yes's turn to maybes turn to we’ll sees and on and on forever
For my sins and for my blunders
For my glories and the wonder
Of how life happens constantly and never
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Carl Lorusso Jr. Toronto, Ontario
2017 Toronto Independent Music Award nominee for "Best Folk/Roots".
"Carl is a
powerhouse wordsmith whose songs represent the dystopian view of a youthful generation.”
-Harrison Fine, producer, FINE Productions
“Shades of Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen rolled into his own unique style. Very well written & sung.”
– Randy Skaggs, Q108 Kingston
... more
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