dranking slongs

by paper forest

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06:08
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01:52
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credits

released January 1, 2009

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paper forest San Diego, California

sean burdeaux + friends

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Track Name: bottles, bottles, bottles
how many bottles must I drink before I'm sure that I can't think about anything anymore?

you're a thief but I'm glad I let you in
you're a thief so I knew you'd steal my shit

well, how many nights will I spend yelling at some asshole, trying to kick him out the door?
how many nights will I be face-down in the dirt and wondering why I'm not on someone's kitchen floor?

I've been drinking too much
'cause I've been thinking too much
Track Name: california
California is natural and good
California is fucked up plastic Hollywood
California is a golden coast
California is Uncle Sam's sad and lonely ghost
California is "FUCK THE WAR!"
California can't protest 'cause they are passed out drunk on the floor

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is so green
California is plasma screen
California is shiny rocks at Sutter's Mill
California is "C'mon boys, come and get your fill!"
California is Mexico
California is voted heterosexual
(but we're very accepting of different lifestyles)

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is border town
California is Spanish crown
California is the place to go
California is cheap labor hanging out at Home Depot
California is a delicious burrito
California is "¿Salsa, guey?" "Si, un pequito"

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is organic health
California is unearned wealth
California is the wild west
California is silicone chips and chests
California is homeless man, he's got no house
California is the breeding ground for Mickey Mouse

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is the rancho system
California is the mayor's hitmen
California is computer boom
California is sorry, no more room
California is Colorado River-fed
California is not enough oxygen to the head

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is a tourist trap
California is house-brewed beer on tap
California drinks the Pacific Ocean
California is cosmic plate tectonic motion
California is the Dead Kennedys
California is the Living Schwarzeneggers

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is Peter Pan
California is Disneyland
California is getting high
California is American Pie
California is cocaine awake
California is the god damn prettiest earthquake

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest

California is Tijuana's cartel demographic
California is all kinds of traffic
California is potential high-speed rail
California is mom and dad posted bail
California is FREE! but you have to pay us
California is the agitated San Andreas

California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest
California: Golden Fucking Mess
California: Golden Heart beating in my chest
Track Name: I woke up crazy
I would adore you
I would adore you
I would adore you
I would adore you

I would've clothed you
I would've clothed you
I would've clothed you
all to undress you

I would've watched you starve yourself
I would've watched you starve yourself
all to nurse you back to health

will you have my babies?
will you have my babies?
will you have my babies?
will you be my baby again?

I woke up crazy
I woke up crazy
I woke up crazy
I will go to bed insane
Track Name: deep blue tree
the ocean's gonna eat us up
yea the ocean's gonna drink us down
you can't keep it contained in the deep blue tree
it's gonna drown the whole god damn town

well, the rain falls into puddles
the puddles flow into streams
the streams fall down the drains
and the drains lead right to me

the fish'll swim into my shoes
and my shoes'll swim right off my feet
I will try to hide in the dunes
but I will be swept right off the beach

well, I could be like Noah, man
and I could build a holy ark
but I don't got no need for that
'cause I will come back as a shark

and I will swim until I die
with a mouth full of crazy teeth
and on the day that I finally go
I will come back as a leaf

on the branches of the deep blue tree
on the branches of the deep blue tree
baby, you will know it's me
on the branches of the deep blue tree

you can't keep it contained in the deep blue tree
Track Name: I will whisper sweet nothings
I will whisper sweet nothings
I will whisper semisweet somethings
I will whisper bittersweet candy bullshit in your ear

Jesus Christ, I'm talking to you
Jesus Christ, I'm talking to you
Jesus Christ, I'm talking to you
Jesus Christ, I'm talking to you

Lord, hear our prayer
Lord, hear our prayer

The human race
We are so scared
Well, Jesus Christ, do you float through the air?
Jesus Christ, tell me, do you care?
Well, Jesus Christ, did you ever really care?
Well, Jesus Christ, were you ever really there?

Well, Jesus, don't you see? The space between two digits is infinity Take our water and turn it into time
The space between the intervals is occupied by our minds.
Reality is a contextual construct rooted in perception and perpetually zooming toward the cosmos
only to reemerge as a reborn though birthed from infinity and tailored by context

reality is perception
reality is perception, Jesus Christ
Track Name: mr. microphone
don't let me drink alone, Mr. Microphone
don't let me drink alone, Mr. Microphone
well, I've got some songs to sing
and I've got some wine to drink
so don't let me drink alone, Mr. Microphone

don't let me think alone, Mr. University
don't let me think alone, Mr. University
I've got some thoughts to think
and I've got some wine to drink
so don't let me think alone, Mr. University

don't let me sleep alone, Mr. Pillowcase
don't let me sleep alone, Mr. Pillowcase
I've got some dreams to dream
and I've got some wine to drink
so don't let me sleep alone Mr. Pillowcase

don't let me drink alone, Mr. Microphone
don't let me drink alone, Mr. Microphone
I've got some songs to sing
and I've got some wine to drink
so don't let me sing alone, Mr. Microphone
Track Name: skeleton in my skin
I've got a skeleton in my skin
I've got an angel behind my sin
honey, she looks just like you
so baby, won't you let me in?

I've got a dollar if you've got a dime
so we can go buy more wine
you know we've got nothing to do
so why not try to feel so fine?

got some rhythm inside my chest
and your dance needs a few more steps
so babe, don't be afraid to move
you'll have your dying days ahead to rest

I've got a ticket, coming up the coast
honey, I don't mean to boast
I ain't felt this good in days
I've been feeling like the holy ghost

you've got a smile that's burned on my brain
you've never caused me too much pain
honey, don't you know it's true?
honey, don't you know it's true?

you've got a new pack of cigarettes
you've got a wallet full of funny regrets
baby, I've got all that, too
well, honey don't you know it's true

you've got an empty glass that needs more wine
and I've got bad things on my mind
you know we've got nothing to do
so why not try to feel so fine?

you've got a skeleton in your skin
you've got a devil behind your sin
honey, he looks just like me
so baby, won't you let me in?
Track Name: cassette tape pt. I
everything's going to be different
but everything has been the same
different time, same shit, altered context
same body with different muscles flexed

don't hate the player, hate the game
well, player, I hate you
and I hate the god damn game, too

well, what's a kid to do?
not a god damn thing but sit back and listen to the telephone ring

ring, ring got more business on the line
got more dollars for your time

ring, ring make that telephone sing
that's it
lemon-scent your plastic-wrapped shit and sell every last bit
hurry up, you're almost out of time
you better squeeze this shit for every last dime it's not worth to spend
to be a part of this disorganized crime

but hey baby I want to eat and take a hot shower
and read a book slowly page by page
and not be chained to clock face by minimum wage

oh, the horror of consistent pay
oh, the horror of a solid eight hour work day
oh, the fucking shame in getting paid
oh, the fucking shame in not getting paid enough