Discount Liquors

by Skunkmello

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credits

released October 9, 2019

Skunkmello is:

Matt Bartlett – Lead Vocals, Guitar, Slide
Ed Cuervo – Bass, Vocals
Jono Ori – Drums, Vocals
--
Tommy "Low Eyes Specky Boi" Spencer XII – Fender Rhodes, Organ
...and the assorted gang of ruffians – debauchery, depravity, bad decisions...

Produced by: Ed Cuervo
Recorded at Big Blue Studios and Serious Business Studios
Mixing and Engineering: Ed Cuervo and Hansdale Hsu
Mastering: Paul Gold, Salt Mastering
Artwork: James Everhart

All Songs © 2019 Matthew Bartlett (ASCAP) ℗ 2019 Skunkmello LLC

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all rights reserved

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Skunkmello New York, New York

Sewer blues and gutter grooves for the barefooted and absent minded.

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Track Name: Street Prophet
Ain’t got no home but I don’t care
I just found some underwear
To earn a dime I’ll do a dance
To save some time I’ll piss my pants
Look at you, you think your smart
Well you ain’t got no shopping cart
Sure you got your stuff ok
But I can up and roll away

Cus I’m a stone cold, street rhymer
Good old, ol' timer
Prophet of the fallen man
Look me up and here I'm
Out doors, bench sleeper
Up yours, night creeper
Pariah of society
Hear my raw philosophy

Getting’ high, feelin’ alright
Lettin’ loose, you know I might
When I see that cop come round
I roll the other side of town
Talk to God, don’t ya know
Calls me brother Eskimo
Listen up here when I say
Wouldn’t have it any other way

Out my mouth the words do flow
From where they come God only knows
The only way to shut me up
To put some change into my cup
Got some rags and paper sheets
Got some bags tied round my feets
My clothes I gotta re-arrange
Before them goddamned seasons change
Track Name: The Wildcard
You know I got to roll out, baby
Got to roll out from the rocky shore
I heard there’s water at the bottom and maybe
We can ride it like we done before
We had that pontoon like a Chevy Camaro
When we last sailed the open seas
With the Wildcard and a Sombrero
There was the full moon guiding free

But those were days of roses,
Poetry and proses and wine
Roses and wine, roses and wine
These ain’t such innocent times
Before the life of Poker
Were days of roller coasters and crime
And the roses and wine, roses and wine
These ain’t such innocent times

I can still remember the days back then
Hanging with them cinnamon girls
Passing round a bottle of buck-shot gin
Drinking to the end of the world
And if you wanna go and get your mind erased
You gotta deal your drinks tall and hard
But it’s a long way to the top, they say
If you’re trying to play the Wildcard

But those were days of roses,
Poetry and proses and wine
Roses and wine, roses and wine
These ain’t such innocent times
Before the life of Poker
Were days of roller coasters and crime
And the roses and wine, roses and wine
These ain’t such innocent times

I gotta bad bad, bad kinda good idea
I gotta bad bad, bad kinda good idea

But first let’s have a toast
To the man who hugged the coast in his time
Raise your roses and wine, roses and wine
These ain’t such innocent times

I gotta bad bad, bad kinda good idea
I gotta bad bad, bad kinda good idea
This ain’t no wine and roses
Track Name: Highball Skyscraper Blues
I got them highball skyscraper blues
I got them highball skyscraper blues
I got them highball skyscraper
Burning castles made of paper
Staring down on Second Avenue

I got them rooftop suicide views
I got them rooftop suicide views
I got them rooftop suicide
Looking down but who am I
To make a mess of Second Avenue

I got that thrift store sunglasses cool
I got that thrift store sunglasses cool
I got that thrift store sunglasses
Camouflaged amongst the masses
Walking down on Second Avenue

Aright! Alright!
Alright, you got me staring at you
You just caught me on the weekend
With my water cooler leaking
Hanging out on Second Avenue

Aright! Alright!
Alright, you got me staring at you
You just caught me on the weekend
With my water cooler leaking
Hanging out on Second Avenue
Track Name: Tequila and Cheesy Poofs
No, I can’t say I have ever really qualified
As an innocent man, by any stretch of the imagination
And yes, I’ve been known
To make my bed upon the floor
But I don’t think your very vivid descriptions
Are a particularly accurate characterization
Of just how old I am
Or just how immature

No, this don’t seem to work for me, honey
And I’m howling like a mad man from the roof
But I got me a different kind of alchemy, baby
Living on tequila and cheesy poofs

Well I can’t seem to find my invitation
But I’m famous, don’t you recognize my face
I thought I’d built a nasty reputation
But it seems that I have come to the wrong place

Well life may be understood backwards but it
Must be lived forwards and it ain’t but a high parody
To assume it all amounts
To anything other than luck
And while we’ll all certainly be subject to the
Inevitably condescension of a cruel and savage posterity
I won’t be around
So I don’t give a fuck

No, this don’t seem to work for me, honey
And I’m howling like a mad man from the roof
But I got me a different kind of alchemy, baby
Living on tequila and cheesy poofs

Well I can’t seem to find my invitation
But I’m famous, don’t you recognize my face
I thought I’d built a nasty reputation
But it seems that I have come to the wrong place
Track Name: Shotgun Duel
Four hundred forty proof
But it’s so cold upon this roof
I didn’t plan on playing truth
Neath the November Moon
An hour past last call
But still a long way left to fall
With Tecates big and tall
And the sun rising soon
There ain’t no room to plead
My only chance it seems is to
Stare down the dirty deed
And strike a West Texas tune
Place your wagers as you please
And count it down from three
The morning time is 5:15
But it’s on like high noon

Good old shotgun duel
And it’s High Noon
Good old shotgun duel
And it’s High Noon
Good old shotgun duel
And it’s High Noon
Good old shotgun duel
And it’s High Noon…tonight

Hey there my amigo
I’m thinking why don’t we go
The sky is amarillo
And I can’t find my keys
And I can’t feel my face-ah
And I can’t drink no more cerveza
This will be the coup de grace-ah
Of my mobility
Well do I even dare
And try to meet that crooked stare
And send a tin-can through the air
On an outer-borough breeze
Well I think I got the shakes
And I can’t seem to find them brakes
A moment’s pause is all it takes
And it’s on like tumbleweed
Track Name: Heaven Sitting Down
I wish I was in heaven sitting down
I wish I was in heaven sitting down
Lord, angel, oh my lord
I wish I was in heaven sitting down

I wish I had wings to fly
I wish I had wings to fly
Lord, angel, oh my lord
I wish I had wings to fly

Take away my sin and give me grace
Take away my sin and give me grace
Lord, angel, oh my lord
Take away my sin and give me grace
Track Name: Running For My Life
Well I was sitting up at Coolhand Luke’s
Minding my own gaze
When up strolled Warren Beatty
And Miss Faye Dunaway
He calls out to the barkeep
A margarita for the dame
And pours himself a glass of salt
And he offers me the same
The barkeep yelled well Hollywood hell
You ain’t no Bonnie and Clyde
And they went reaching for their two by fours
I went running for my life

Well I was feeling kinda hungry
When the authors called the cops
They were looking everywhere for Baudelaire
I was looking for a pizza shop
The heat stormed in and stole my slice
Convinced it was for the cause
The black and blues convinced me too
Though I ain’t sure of what it was
Well it’s hard to tell how mozzarell
Could ever cause such strife
Till I was on the streets without my eats
And running for my life

Well I sat down to a deck of cards
And decided to play a game
It was me and Charlie Sheen and Mary Magdalene
And a dealer named John Wayne
The play was fast, the drink was hard
The talk was rather loud
They began to scream and cause a scene
They began to draw a crowd
Well she shot first and the crowd dispersed
The Duke went for his knife
I said to them, well shit you win
And went running for my life

Well I got in a tempest
With that bar-room gin-soaked queen
She wasn’t quite form Memphis
But she was certainly of the sceneAnd visions of Johanna
Just ain’t my cup of Joe
No, I prefer cabanas
And them roadhouse bungalows
But she said to me all sensibly
Boy, you could use a wife
And I said to her I wasn’t sure
And went running for my life

So now I’m on the doorstep
Of some downtown urban shrine
There used to be a future here
But now there’s only time
I don’t remember how or when
I happened to this place
But now it seems so hard to breath
I need some outer space
So remember me to all the rest
And don’t forget to write
Make the address to heading west
And running for my life
Track Name: Puffy (Pronounced Poofy)
I got a dog, he’s about 18
He’s the baddest thing you ever seen
He begs for food, he begs for more
He sleeps all day and piss on the floor

He’s seen some shit, yea more than most
And he knows a little bit about that ghost
But he don’t care, don’t give a fuck
----Cuz he not gonna give it up

No he not gonna give it up
No he not gonna give it up
No he not gonna give it up
No he not gonna give it up

I remember how he used to bite
But he ain’t got no teeth now, so it’s alright
He used to like his crystal meth
Kept him up for days and freshened his breath

About 11 pounds soaking wet
But he’s a mean motherfucker you won’t forget
And he don’t care, don’t give a fuck
----Cuz he not not give it up

Dog don’t come when he is called
And likes to walk into them walls
Don’t move for God, ain’t got no rush
Just hangs about like a Bowery lush

He’s done his time, he’s lived his years
His eyes don’t work, neither do his ears
But he don’t care, don’t give a fuck
----Cuz he not gonna give it up
Track Name: The Dirty Durango
Everybody gonna do the Dirty Durango
Everybody gonna do the dirty dirty slow
Everybody gonna do the Dirty Durango
Everybody gonna do the dirty dirty slow

Ain’t nobody wanna do the nerdy Nintendo
Ain’t nobody wanna do the nerdy nerdy no
Cuz Everybody gonna do the Dirty Durango
Everybody gonna do the dirty dirty slow

Have your money ready and you maybe make a friend tho
It’s not about the money but the innuendo
Everybody gonna do the Dirty Durango
Everybody gonna do the dirty dirty slow

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