1. |
Berkely Hundred
05:18
|
|||
|
Wrong ruled the land
No other man could find a way
To make that what it is today
Wrong rules the land
Another man has come along
We step inside a hundred strong
So show us your ways, ye natives
We'll play along but not for long
Show us your face, don't hate us
We come in peace, prepare the feast
To celebrate this perfect day
To bringing change to this primal place
To NRA, to fast food chains, to football games
We overate
But I've been thinking of it all
I've been playing it off as if I knew
What was happening or else
I'd do something to stop it
But I don't have any sense of it
They don't have any sentiment for it
Even though they can't ignore it
I wish their ships sank in the harbor
And water froze in their throats
And hard-earned martyrs died in their boats
'Cause sometimes you know it all before it even comes
Sometimes you know it all before it even comes
Sometimes you know it all before it even comes
Sometimes you know it all before it even comes
|
||||
2. |
Floats
04:21
|
|||
|
A suicide, Upper West Side,
The person I admire most cannot float
We don't forget you tie your neck,
Your body on the sidewalk when you pop
My hands don't fold, it's usually colder,
I do what I'm told 'cause I'm still a boy,
I am not a man
And all our friends, all my family
And all their thoughts somewhere else
Somewhere in Alpha, NJ
And I won't eat the bird this year
And I don't need November this year
And I won't eat the bird this year
And I don't need November this year
And I won't eat the bird this year
A broken arm, you broke my heart
Between the park more than once
You're not our sun
The others float down the street
Until they meet Herald Square
Where they're taken down
Where they race through the winds
And since we don't care, it shouldn't air
Everyone floats
Oh, the lampposts!
And my aunt sews a scarf for me to wear
And the food stays
All the food made
All the pies baked
Don't stand a chance
Everyone floats
Oh, the lampposts!
And my aunt sews a scarf for me to wear
And the food stays
All the food made
All the pies baked
Don't stand a chance
|
||||
3. |
Franksgiving
03:48
|
|||
|
Football rivalries heed my concern
Lincoln I believe had patterned
The last Thursday in November
Thanksgiving Day
You can’t go home, Eleanor Blydenburg
Brooklyn abides, celebrates earlier
Connecticut ignores every word and
Celebrates anyway
No one Christmas shops when they’re this depressed
No one wants to shop when we’re in this mess
No one favors Franksgiving politics
Or your third term reelection
Have you forgotten tradition?
Is this your final decision?
A good idea we think it isn’t
For all those bankrupt calendar companies
F-D-R F-D-R F-D-R
F-D-R F-D-R F-D-R
F-D-R F-D-R F-D-R
F-ed
We are not all money-minded
We do have some decency left
We are not all undecided
I’ll wait until my shop goes under
Although we are not behind it
You usually do what is best
Although you have come surprised us
We’ll give thanks anyway
So you go and kill a bald eagle
Is this Russia? Is this nothing but your ego?
And you plead,
“It isn’t me, I’m just meeting people halfway”
Isn’t that they way our country runs?
Oh, yes it does, President
Our country runs
Our country runs
Our country runs
Our country runs from him
Our country runs, some up in arms
Our country runs, some open arms
Our country runs, some up in arms
Our country runs from him, some open arms
Our country runs, some up in arms
Our country runs, some open arms
Our country runs, some up in arms
Our country runs for him, some open arms
Our country runs, some up in arms
(President, president, president, president)
Our country runs, some open arms
(President, president, president)
|
||||
4. |
Thanks But No Thanks
03:21
|
|||
|
O the drought we pray for rain
Please please please
Though we doubt the plants will eat
Please please please
Then the sound—a ship at sea
Sea sea sea
Then we found something to eat
A feast feast feast
But he, on the other hand
He, on my mother’s sand
He, on my brother’s land
He’s not our father
He, on the other hand
He, on my mother’s sand
He, on my brother’s land
He’s not our father
He’s not our father
He’s not our father
He’s not our father
He’s not our father
And you laugh, we starve
We aren’t all dead yet
Regret this heart you left here
Instead carve, gorge
You tortured us then
And God forgot us and taught us to live
|
||||
If you like Ross Brunetti, you may also like:
featured on Bandcamp Radio Dec 1, 2023
go to album
RIGHT HERE, JUST NOT NOW.
by KINNA MONE
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jun 2, 2023
go to album
REAL B*TCHES DON'T DIE!
by Kari Faux
A joyful celebration of the sounds of Southern rap from an artist who's never felt more at home and in command of her space and vision.
go to album
TURNIN' HEADS (ft. Big K.R.I.T.)
by Kari Faux
featured on Bandcamp Radio Mar 23, 2023
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Oct 20, 2022
go to album
More Fruit Juice
by Vinnie Chocha X L-Ament
featured on Bandcamp Radio Oct 8, 2021
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Jul 30, 2021
go to album
