SHAPES @ Piano's 4​/​30​/​11

by SHAPES

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SHAPES New York, New York

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Track Name: Some Folk Song In D (Nevermind)
Manhattan can go to hell, and so can Brooklyn too. Indie rock's a game we play, and we pretend it's true. But it's all fun and make believe, and stupid reindeer games. To see who's cool and cutting edge, but we're all the same.

If Isaac Brock don't give a damn, then tell me why should I. Everyone will let you down, and all your heroes lie. Oh well whatever never mind the dimming of the sky. Everything grows dark in death, even the brightest eyes.

I fear these fears are justified in every single way. And we're left to rationalize the meaning of each day. But if time's a tool that we use to measure our decay. Then all I know is we creep towards death with the passing of each day.

And if all these fears are justified in every single way. All I know of who I am falls apart every way. And if all these nights of make believe mean nothing in the end. May I learn how to believe in all that is pretend.

For nothing is all that I know, and nothing's all I see. And nothing is the only thing in which I can believe. For nothing is all that I know, and nothing's all I see. And nothing is the only thing in which I can believe.
Track Name: Ecstasy
Ecstasy oh wo. Feeling good oh wo. Dancing dancing just we two I'll do anything you want done to you.

This feeling in my head. We're gonna make it safe we're gonna make it safe to dance to punk!

We're coming to your radio so take a hit of rock and roll. Do what you want to save your soul, do what you want just lose control

The kids will put their make up on and sing every word of my song and oh god damn it's been so long since I've wanted to dance to a punk song.

Cause I'm in ecstasy I'm in, ecstasy I'm in ecstasy. I'm in ecstasy. I'm in I'm in ecstasy. I'm in I'm in ecstasy. Cause I'm in I'm in ecstasy. Yeah I'm in ecstasy.
Track Name: Shadows & Schisms Dancing In Prisms
I'm waiting on my bed for the telephone to ring. I'm searching through my head for the perfect little note to sing. I dream of yesterday and all the little things I'd do, all the things that made you scream and being deep inside you

Can't you see, what you're doing to me? Can't you just let go and run away with me? Cause I scream about you, cause I dream about you. Shadows and schisms dancing in prisms, we're falling apart together.

I'm living like the dead dreaming of another day. Another day when you'll be here to keep all my nightmares away. Lacerate me lovingly and shake me to my core. You got me wanting what you got and on my knees begging for more.

Under the ocean, that's where you'll find me in your dreams before things get better baby, don't you know it has to get worse. And I hope that the star you see is the one that's shining above me. Like shadows and schisms dancing in prisms we're falling apart together.

Shadows and schisms dancing in prisms even when we're apart we share the same heart (repeat)
Track Name: Hi, Please.
I'm thinking about life, I'm thinking about death, I'm thinking about my father's shallow heartbeat in his chest. And I know, Ma, you'd do anything, and you're always proud of me, but I'm weary of who I've become, and this idle life I lead. Getting fucked up every single night, and sleeping all the day, yeah, I do it all for Rock n' Roll, at least that's what I say to myself to justify this life, this endless masquerade, but when I go to sleep at night, the only thing i say is...

Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going, Where the fuck is my life going?

Everything just means nothing, there is no future, there is no future. And everything just means nothing, there is no future, there is no future.

Guns, guns, pick up your guns, we're burning out the Sun, and we're killing everyone.
So rally together, rally on high, we'll live for tonight, for tomorrow we'll die.
So strap on your boots, and halloo your battle cry, pray to your God, and kiss your mom goodbye.
For the Thunder Road is torn to shit, and there's nowhere left to hide, so Welcome to the Jungleland, no one gets out alive.
Track Name: Caterwaul
Summer days come again, sunshine take me home, I've had my fill of alcohol, and I don't wanna sleep alone.
Even if it's momentary psychedelic bliss, I need me some oblivion, and someone I would gladly kiss.
So Mamma, hear my caterwaul, boys pick up your guns, we're breaking through the stratosphere, and burning out the fucking Sun.
So Sunday, Monday, any day, whatever day it is, pour me out a whiskey drink, so I can get some fucking catharsis.

Anarchy, anarchy, give us fucking anarchy. Oh whoa, anarchy, anarchy.

I'm getting on without you now, but then I see your face, it reminds me of the summer rain, and takes me back to a place.
When I was much much happier, no tsunamis or earthquakes, but now the world is crumbling, and all that's left is left to take.
And Victims tell us many things, just like "We're born to die," and in this "Fucked reality" I hope I die burning alive.
So baby, hear my caterwaul, I'm vengefully living well, because my reason to move on, is to make your life a living hell!
Track Name: I'm OK
I drink every drink till I can no longer think, yeah I'm so much more charming when my spit comes with a wink. So at my 5 year reunion when they ask what I do, I will spit, and I will wink, tell them, "I'm drinking, how 'bout you?" I remember the weekend when I went back to Bard, yeah I saw my ex-girlfriend, I was drinking real hard. I said, "I'm going home, there's nothing for me here, yeah these Hudson Valley college kids are really fucking weird."

Yeah I'm moving on, yeah I'm moving along, I'm trying so hard to write a new fucking song. One that's not about girls, or death, or sex, or drugs, or love, yeah but who am I kidding, my life's F'd, all the above. So I'll keep on singing lacerated love songs for the damned, yeah maybe baby I was born to be the singer of a band. But I'm not so much a singer as a screamer with no choice, but to shout these songs of love and death, until I have no voice.

And I know these songs are only momentary shots of bliss, but maybe we will realize, in spite of all life's shit, Happiness comes inside of a pop song or a kiss, yeah happiness comes inside of a pop song or a kiss...

And I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone, I'm OK hating everyone I know...

And I really hate you!
Track Name: Upon Listening To Titus Andronicus' Debut Album, "The Airing of Grievances."
And I accept I'm going to die, and die alone, unknown I'll die. A life of no repute I'll lead, and burn in anonymity.

When I was young I thought there was a meaning inside everything. A point, a plan, a purpose for, this thing we call a human being. But now I know that that's untrue, there's nobody painting the sky blue. So hang up the phone there's no one home, if ya wanna be heard it's up to you.

Hang me up alone to die, my boots are worn, and my soul doth cry. But let me lay my burden down, and stick up a middle finger to the underground. This Brooklyn DIY Scene's a cutthroat affair, they'll shun ya if they want to, and hate ya if ya care. So ready your guns, and your battle cry, and expect them to cheer, and to drink when you die...

And so punk is dead, and you're fucking next, and they'll eat you alive without a regret, and all of your dreams are going to hell, there's no fucking future, we're all going to hell! And so punk is dead, and you're fucking next, and they'll eat you alive without a regret, and all of your dreams are going to hell, there's no fucking future, we're all going to hell!

Baby, I'm walking, I'm walking alone, I'm tired of Bushwick, I'm going back home! To that two room apt. on the Upper West Side, the place I was born, and surely will die! My parents are sleepless, cramped in their bunk beds, dreamless at night there are no hopes in their heads. So don't give me this shit, like "It's tough in the streets," despite that I'm white, I've grown close to defeat. And the whiskey hits heavy so I keep my hands up, pour me another, and I'll finish my cup. And tell ya some stories ya don't want to hear, 'bout the shit that I've been through, with a wink, and a tear. And how Brooklyn's a bitch that won't let ya go, and the City's a slut tarted up for the show. So raise up your glass, and raise it up high, thank Heaven on Earth, we're all going to die!

We're all going to die!