Basement Folklore by Kevo can't dance

ALBUM TITLE: BASEMENT FOLKLORE

FRIENDS WITH FICTION

She was the poster child for publicity
The prodigy for socialite propaganda
Had her tresses on high society
And an ego on a mission
To destroy your lifes ambition

Age of 17
she was acquainted with cocaine
Soon she only felt fine
When her nose would hug that line
When her habit hit the news
Oh mommy daddy weren't amused
In an act of declaration
Sent her to rehabilitation

Shouldn't play with fiction
Cuz the truth is vicious
Stop signs are for quitters
And it's contagious
I don't wanna die
I don't wanna die
Egos America's kryptonite

She was a poster child for publicity
The sole proprietor
of the antagonists fashionado
Led the wolves to slaughter
Just to herd more sheep
And an ego on a mission
To destroy your lifes ambiton

Shouldn't play with fiction
Cuz the truth is vicious
Stop signs are for quitters
And it's contagious
I don't wanna die
I don't wanna die
Egos America's kryptonite

Everyone is brainwashed by WolrdStar TMZ
Mine as well have lobotomies
Like Rosemary Kennedy
Polar ice caps flood my basement
Baby boomers and millennials
What's the difference

Oh I played with fiction
Oh I played with fiction
Stops signs are for quitters
I shoulda listened
We're all gonna die
We're all gonna die
Egos America's kryptonite

ROARING 20'S

Heard your skipping shame
Over the city of kerosene
Well you better hope it rains
Before this town's just charred remains
So you clear your throat
And say this world is just a joke
Well I don't disagree
But what's the punchline
Tell me please

These roaring 20's
Feel more like a great depression
Step in the light let your shadow coast
These roaring 20's hit me close
With sweet rejection
Some lovers are born
some embody a ghost

I like the damaged ones
Black and blue dahlias
Dipped in ink and stuck with pins
Thread the needle death heretics
Scars shaped like midwestern states
I panic when you show me
Seasons change three blocks away
The summer leaves compose me

These roaring 20's
Feel more like a great depression
Step in the light let your shadow coast
These roaring 20's hit me close
With sweet rejection
Some lovers are born
some embody a ghost

Buried alive in a decade of S.O.S tonight
You better call off all your fireflies
These roaring 20's
These roaring 20's hold me close
These roaring 20's embody a ghost

PINESTREET

I was beating my 20's
Like it owed me money
It's the end of watch
My hollow body stranded soul
Dashboard still lit up like a carousel
I wanna hang myself
with the auxiliary chord

Acoustic sex in a dingy basement
41 punks a cabaret of booze and sweat
Don't be mistaken I'm taken
Less the serious
Four chords changed all that

AMERICAN GOTHIC

Matchbook tongue, bulletproof ballgown
Uplifting gormandizer
Let's burn the city down
Dressed In black, transatlantic English
Can't shoot the messenger
But I gotta shoot my mouth

Dashboards lit up like a carousel
Hope my car don't stall out
She's looking at me
Like a trust fund takes a trust fall now
Dressed in black, transatlantic English
Can't shoot the messenger
But I gotta shoot someone one

Stand back keep away

Full moon over thirteen
An american gothic and me
Second street heartbeat
An american gothic

THE MEDIOCRE GATSBY

We drank behind a billboard
That said everything must go
And we took those words to heart
Because that was the summer's manifesto
Personality cosplay
Gypsy moths burning on the bulbs
We locked eyes against the concrete slabs
And spilt our guts to helpless souls

Never showed, didn't know
Thanks for callin
Broken bones, bloody toes
I'd still come crawling
Overwhelmed by expectations
What were you expecting lies
Grain of sugar in my salty eyes goodbye

Madeline, I'm a mediocre Gatsby
Goodbye, I'm a mediocre Gatsby
Don't lie I'm a mediocre Gatsby

We woke up hand in hand
She starting breaking all my bones
Pulling thorns out of my side
I just wanna get back home
Good grief
You pulled that heart from off my sleep
I had it well attached
With tethered velcro teeth
Goodnight satellite
I hope you burn out well for me tonight
Your not a dwindling star
More like a dying flashlight alright

Never showed, didn't know
Thanks for callin
Broken bones, bloody toes
I'd still come crawling
Overwhelmed by expectations
What were you expecting lies
Grain of sugar in my salty eyes goodbye

Madeline, I'm a mediocre Gatsby
Goodbye, I'm a mediocre Gatsby
Don't lie I'm a mediocre Gatsby

Toss our bottles to the ground
Jump in the alley don't make a sound
Flashing lights are in our eyes tonight

TIRE THUMPER COFFEE MAKER
(Originally written & performed by Pitfall Combat)

I think I wanna get out for awhile
The street lights chase me
Like a constellations child
And if I turn around for just one second
I might just miss something

I see a girl walking down the street
I swear to God she looks like Kat Dennings
And I know I can't get a girl like
Even if I try
Maybe I'll just close my eyes and
Hide from consequence
Here we go again

This is a longshot
You little sniper
I got my cross eyes fixed on you
Just hold me closer
Or pull the trigger
I swear it went off with a bang
Bang bang bang

Then I saw you standing there
To my surprise you didn't care to think
About the awkwardness in me
You day dream
Oh darlin what's your name

It's not enough to take a chance
Sacrificial life artificial romance

BRUCE CAMPBELLS TUNNEL OF LOVE
(Originally written and performed by Pitfall Combat)

Don't cry don't cry
It's a Saturday night
The only night out of the week
Where we can stay alive
Don't cry don't cry
In your crypt your carnival tomb
Radio slaving on the TV set
And seven bottles of blue moon

I'll wait for you until the sun dies
Until my body forces me to close my eyes
Till rhyme and reason are our clenched fists
Till we get out off this mess

When I wake up
I'm gonna terrorize this town
Because I know it's in the dark they walk
The undead from the ground
But are we all but dead
Just grab your funeral dress
And shot gun
Let's hit the streets tonight and find a cure

I know a place downtown
Where the prescriptions cheap
And beneath the burnt out streets
I will sweep you off your feet
And you'll say

KELLER TEXAS

Chasing my shadow to be alone
Glass houses make good broken homes
Salovie, I belong in the streets

Bandage over broken bones
Bandage over broken broken bones

Out to Keller Texas with your rosary
Papa's not a rolling stone
More like a tumbleweed
Out to American Spain
With your broken toy trains

Bandage over broken bones
Bandage over broken broken bones

Your cut down the old family tree
Carved up the branches
And burned all the leaves
And all you have me
Was an Irish last name
So I beat up my dad
Beat up my dad with a baseball bat

PITFALL COMBAT vs VIRGINIA WOLFE

Under me over me
Find the nearest hanging tree
Or call my bluff
Howling like Virginia Wolfe

I took a tattoo gun
To a polygraph machine
Used your back as a canvas
Every lie is a screen
Etch-a-sketch of flesh
What a hopeless bloody mess
All you had to do was let
Your mind color in the lines

Under me over me
Find the nearest hanging tree
Or call my bluff
Howling like Virginia wolfe

Paint me like a french girl
Jack Daniel's tonight
We can catch the matinee
Of cultural divide
Death rattle roll
Glasgow smiles cut in two
These basement songs are all
That's keeping me alive

Under me over me
Find the nearest hanging tree
Or call my bluff
Howling like Virginia Wolfe

Under me over me
We're just cemetery seeds
Just plant me gently
I'll read you next spring

I'll never forget those nights
Playing any place that let us
Speak are minds
Recording in the bathroom
With a 4 track mic
Drinking blue moon
And smoking spice
Callin out that frat house
When we found that rufie room
Get a DUI smash the wrong guitar
And resume
Singing songs about
Fred Savage, Bruce Campbell
And I still dream in Gemini
Pitfall Combat until the day I die

AM HANNAH FM

Sister Patsy bought me
A bakelite radio
It had haunted dials
That moved on there own
One day the knob sunk in
At 74.9
It played the saddest song
I heard in my live
She said

Take me over
You quiet October
I can't recall
Whether I'll see you next fall
But I know when I hold you close
My heart makes a sound
Like a cannonball

We dwelled in the backseat
Of that Jetta
All summer long
Fogging up the windows
In the parking lot
Of the King Of Prussia
Hush my little
Static lullaby don't make a sound
The Amplifiers humming out
Some pantie dropper motown

I guess it's me against
Myself tonight
I step on your house of cards
Turn down the flashlight
Watching you is like a car crash
13 Saturday nights
I'll never get back

Take me over
You quiet October
I can't recall
Whether I'll see you next fall
But I know when I hold you close
My heart makes a sound
Like a cannonball

Take me over quiet October
All in all when divided we did fall
And I know we could have had it all
And I know I missed your
Curtain closure fall

Figure eight in a love triangle
Look at me I'm alone and strangled
Figure eight in a love triangle

CANDY HEARTS AND RAZOR BLADES

I never meant to fall in love
But these things happen
And I happen to be one
Of those mushy
Cheeseball freaks
Cuz when I see your eyes
You're the seamstress
To my heartstrings

Do you wanna see
A haunted house with me

I really meant what I said
In the First verse
But this is a punk rock song
And I gotta say bad words
I fucking love you
And I'm glad that you love me
Even though
I'm a chunky monkey

Do you wanna see
A haunted house with me

My chemical imbalance
And your grace
Candy hearts and razor blades

ROOSEVELTS

I'm standing by the wishing well
I've got three onlookers
Telling me to go to hell
Maybe they don't like what they see
I got the bloodshot eyes
And my hair is green

Sitting in between
The subconscious of a dream
The surreal infatuation
With the silence of a scream
Call it subliminal
My own reality
Here I stand imposter of a

There's no potential in me
I just believe the things I read
And when I come close
My fingernails they start to bleed
There's no potential in me

I'm standing by the wishing well
I pull my fist out
My shallow heart fell
There's nothing here for me
Just credit cards
And mall security

Sitting in between
The subconscious of a dream
The surreal infatuation
With the silence of a scream
Call it subliminal
My own reality
Here I stand imposter of a

There's no potential in me
I just believe the things I read
And when I come close
My fingernails they start to bleed
There's no potential in me

I'm standing by the wishing
Roosevelt