Discount Liquors

by Skunkmello

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1.
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
2.
The Wildcard 05:21
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
3.
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
4.
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
5.
Shotgun Duel 03:09
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
6.
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
7.
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
8.
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
9.
10.
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

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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Skunkmello New York, New York

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

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