Hell Songs

by The Great American Satan

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1.
03:13
2.
02:53
3.
4.
02:40
5.
02:51
6.
7.
04:00

about

These songs aren't perfect, and they're not supposed to be.

credits

released April 20, 2016

Lyrics for tracks 1, 3, 4, 5, and 7 by Sam Maynard
Lyrics for tracks 2 and 6 by Zak Kessler
All music written by The Great American Satan
Recorded live by Adam Baczkowski in his dungeon
Produced by Adam Baczkowski and The Great American Satan in Interlaken, NJ, February 2016
Mastered by Nick Ruroede
HANDSOME STRANGER RECORDS

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about

The Great American Satan Asbury Park, New Jersey

Friends that shred:

Zak Kessler
Nick Ruroede
The Maynards

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Track Name: Bastardman
I shouldn't try so hard
I'll push it back to the start and conceal a wide open scar
You talk to fucking friends who encourage the worst in you
But it's a fucking wash when you're young, dumb, and just pissed off

Sleep is for the ghosts I get by on dim kitchen lights
When I need it the most, ink and lines on your hardwood floor
You make it feel cheap when you speak like a valley girl
Give me the fucking creeps and continue without me

Hold on, I think I'm losing it
Wake up, repeat and abuse me
Sharp tongue with indiscretion
Slurred speech in the wrong direction
Why not? make poor decisions
It's all you got when you can't hear your own thoughts
This conversation's so relentless
False hope and fucked resentment

I can only express myself
With three fucking chords
I stole from every song, at an open bar
With a shitty teenage grin

That's the way you behave when you can't feel anything
Track Name: Fountain Pen
I was looking for a better way to feel no pain
A searing numbness from my skull to my teeth
I'm stuck here in a coffin that's been fitted for me
A funeral for my heart that eternally bleeds

So take your fountain pen and stick it in my eye
Let the ink settle until it runs dry
Forever in my way, forever by my side
I know by now I'm fucked for life

What happened to my better days?
Now it's filled with smoke and decay
This isn't living (this isn't living)
Don't wanna deal with it
Track Name: Neighborhood Watch
My teeth are broken, my tongue is tired
I've been up all morning starting neighborhood fires
I realize we don't exist
As friends or lovers, dirty thoughts and emptiness
Take me out and show me life
Because I'll be stuck here bleeding on the blade of your sharpest knife
In violent sobriety

My brain is soaking, everybody's leaving
Fire's burning out and all the loved ones are all grieving
I wanna vandalize with you
The cops won't stop us, cuz you and me are bulletproof
Just tell me you don't like me
Because I'm a self-important skeleton who bought his way for free
I'll fade away so quietly

Watch me through your windows

I'll be the one in the night time wearing black
I'll sneak up right behind you and stab you in the back
Face down and bleeding on a daily basis
Hanging on to your photographs in the ugliest of places

Watch me through your windows ;)
Track Name: Rent Control
I'm fucking sick with the tattoos on your hand
I don't really care about your Replacements revival band
You sound like all the rest to me, I'll eat and sleep through another year
It's a fucking mess, you see your guarantee's loud and fucking clear

I need a proper fix of truth in the name of us
Some fucking politics, unison screams that end in blood
Because if everything's art then art's not anything

I'm fucking sick of the fakes that stole our scene
They want to trick us with neon lights and steal beams
They want to buy our help, paint it white, and gouge the price
But I wear fucking black, in protest not a uniform

I'll build my own sign, I'll paint the letters in your blood
It won't fucking rhyme, because I can't afford it to
Because if everything's art then art's not anything

I'm sick of asking how your day went
Losing sleep over lips and strangers
I'm sick of surfboards, who fucking needs them?
And feeding all those parking meters

I'm sick of losing rent control and calling my brother's couch my home
I'm sick of feeling fucking sick of, but I really wish I wasn't sick of you
Track Name: Sloane
Answer the phone
It's been a while since you've felt so alone
Names on paper
I'll disconnect in my special way

Put your picture on my wall
Eyes closed on the ledge I'm not ready to fall
I'm not ready to go

Feeling better
Burning up your old letters
I'll ignore what's good for me
It's the only thing that works for me

Ripped your picture off my wall
Throw myself off the ledge I'm fucking ready to fall
I'm ready to go
Track Name: Uppers and Downers
When you live your life with bloodshot eyes
You never know it's hard to cry
The paranoia's getting to me, my heart don't know how to beat
Up and down, up and down; it's how my mood swings

Inhaling my downward spiral
I'm stuck here in this house, my brains are falling out
Inhaling my downward spiral
A shell of myself, I wish I was someone else

Digging myself deeper
I swallow mud like cheap liquor
Track Name: Squad Car
I walk through these empty streets filled with hotels and deadbeats
Parks and libraries pour good faith in the public investment
It's late, you're not home from work, and I'm scared
Lights flashing, TV blaring while I try to contain me

And then I think to myself
You got nothing on me
Just watch me let it go

We will not break unless there's consensus
You look like you got nothing to do, you're fucking scared of me

My hands are bound and they're yelling at me in the back of a squad car
The bottle's on the ground and I'm fucking crucified
I think of a describable trait I could use to attribute to myself
But the moment's over and I'm fucked in my own skin

I drive my car off a cliff
You got nothing on me
Just watch me let it go

Processed in under an hour and I feel no different
Just give them the dirtiest look and don't let them see you sweat

To hell with the cops, they don't care
Intimidation doesn't scare me
I'm not worthless, I'm interesting