Kind of Blew (Live in Brooklyn)

by Skunkmello

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1.
Lay me down by the river When the river’s done with me And Stay around to deliver A half-assed eulogy I take a round for my liver And one for each of my kidneys And pray we drown all our shivers Fore the daylight comes for thee Yea I know it’s gonna come for me Like the water flow unto the sea Washed out with all the other debris (but until that time, you’ll find me) Riding the river, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans A-riding blind is always better And the spirits help to keep the tune I float the line, designed with gold and leather And stained by the tobacco moon I done my time, grinding out the weather I reckon by ma brass spittoon But surviving’s gotta mind to take forever And the floods be on the rise too soon Yea I know it’s gonna come for me Like the water flow unto the sea Washed out with all the other debris (but until that time, you’ll find me) Riding the river, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans Riding the River, Chicago down to New Orleans © 2016 Matthew Bartlett (ASCAP) ℗ 2016 Skunkmello LLC
2.
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
3.
I got them highball skyscraper blues I got them highball skyscraper blues I got them highball skyscraper Steady as a stack of paper Floating 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 Pouring down on Second Avenue
4.
5.
Cruising down Commonwealth Working on the street cred Super fly super stealth Two dudes on a Moped Cruising down Boylston Zed's dead baby Zed's dead If you want it come and get it son It's not a chopper; it's a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped Anna's taqueria Gotta get myself fed Green salsa diarrhea Two dudes on a moped Burning down Greylock Lounging in the trunk bed Got that glow-stick shell-shock Dippin molly on a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped Two dudes on a moped
6.
Spanish as the moonlight stains the sea And the waves they rise and fall so gent-i-ly Sittin’ back sippin’ on a lonely friend Tryin’ real hard just to pretend That she was not the only one for me I held her off as long as I could bare But her words would twist and tumble through the air A .38 special and a bag of blow And they chased me down to Mexico And now they wanna put me in the chair Pre-Chorus: I’d sell my soul at a modest price But I won’t be no sacrifice You whispered words but mine were true And I’m the man who killed a man for you Chorus: And it goes whoa—oh—oh, easy come now, easy go Well he wound up on the wrong side of my gun And I say hey—ey—ey, yeah I’m better off this way Cus I can’t get close to no one on the run You know I ain’t been much for killin’ men But if you asked me I’d shoot him down again Ain’t nobody gonna make a fool outa me And expect to get off peacefully The blood is on her hands in the end Whoa-oh black magic love It was all, all that I could afford I didn’t mean to make nobody dead Just shoot a motherfucker in the head His dyin’ was between him and the Lord
7.
Heavy Heavy 05:01
Getting clean on gutter steam Sippin’ on a bottle of Listerine But then you know just how serene Sitting in the corner on ketamine Jingled change and beggin’ please Need to fire up another to avoid the squeeze Gettin’ strange just to feel at ease Come on, we all got our own enemies Said hey hey momma now when I come You better not be here when I come back home You better not be here when I come Said you better not be here when I come back home Oh Yeah, and I know you know now (Yeah you know you) Better not be here when I come back home Oh Yeah, when I know you know now (Yeah you know you) Better not be here when I come back home Oh yeah, I’m sitting back in the heavy heavy You know I’d rather be alone Catatonic lassitude To which the empty bottles do allude But then it seems so misconstrued You talk too much, now you spoil the mood
8.
9.
The sun is setting right on top of me I feel its fire burning bright It isn’t greed, if it’s rooted in a real need Oh how I long for sweet delight There ain’t no fix to fix what’s twistin’ me Better men have failed outright I got the shakes, violent as the earth quakes Jonesing for my sweet delight Sometimes the liquor just ain’t hard enough When you wander naked in the night It’s a lonely street, that leads to where the people meet All lookin’ for their sweet delight Thought I heard a voice callin’ out to me Comin’ from a place just outa sight Sometimes it seems, like I’m drowning in the jet stream Reaching out for sweet delight Now I keep a bottle always next to me And dump it till I’m good and tight Well I’m all alone, drinkin’ by the telephone Dreamin’ of my sweet delight Well drink a drink for all that’s happened And drink a drink for all that might And drink you fill, for everything that never will And raise your glass to sweet delight
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 Nitendo 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 though It’s not about the money but the innuendo Everybody gonna do the Dirty Durango Everybody gonna do the dirty dirty slow

about

The culprits here are:

Matt Bartlett (guitar, vocals)
Ed Cuervo (bass, vocals)
Jono Ori (drums, vocals)
Mark Masefield (wurlitzer, organ, synth)

Recorded/Mixed by Phil Palazzolo.
Produced by Matt Bartlett.

Except as otherwise noted, all Songs © 2016 Matthew Bartlett (ASCAP) ℗ 2016 Skunkmello LLC

Recorded March 17, 2018.
Thanks to the Seaside Lounge in Brooklyn, NY.

*Steely Dan tune.
^Neil Young tune.

credits

released August 17, 2018

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Skunkmello New York, New York

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

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