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For My Sins - Album

by Carl Lorusso Jr.

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1.
Biopic 02:06
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
2.
Empty Rooms 03:14
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
3.
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
4.
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
5.
Playing God 02:27
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
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
7.
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
8.
Passing Lane 04:41
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
9.
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
10.
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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30 minutes worth of pandemic anxiety

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released November 20, 2020

Credits;
Carl Lorusso Jr. - Everything

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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
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