Cradle Rock
by The Chatty Cathys
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 6-track album in your choice of MP3 320, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire.Buy Now name your price
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credits
released 04 January 2012
Recorded at the Liberty House and in the cavernous confines of the Vaudeville Mews.
Producer- Phil Young.
Recorded at the Liberty House and in the cavernous confines of the Vaudeville Mews.
Producer- Phil Young.
tags
license
all rights reserved
feeds
feeds for discography
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Jan 2012 -
Aug 2011 -
Jun 2011 -
Jun 2010
contact / help
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For all other inquiries, click here.
- Track Name: Marta Won't-
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Marta won’t meet my gaze anymore/ Marta won’t bring me trays anymore
Medusa is reducing me to running out the door/ Mostly because I love her so
Monotony’s toppling me more and more/ Monogamy’s cutting me core to core
Metaphor angers me, cause she’s a whore/ Mostly because I love her so
But my cleaning lady keeps me crazy, she ain’t bothered that I’m lazy
Ridding me of the evidence of my residence takes precedence
And I thank God for her and that
Deliberations don’t do anything anymore/ Dedications don’t feel deserved anymore
Daddy never ever kept track of the score/ Doesn’t he know I want it, though?
Duluoz doesn’t think I’m crazed anymore/ Dante doesn’t get me blazed anymore
Dickens’s disappointed by my lack of chores/ Don’t they know I want it, though?
But my cleaning lady keeps me crazy, she ain’t bothered that I’m lazy
Ridding me of the evidence of my residence takes precedence
And I thank God for her and that
When I’m feeling rough around the edges, she comes and cuts me square
When I’ve been jumping off of ledges, she comes and combs my hair
And she knows there’s a brain under there - Track Name: -Make Men
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We’re modern males born into the middle class
Girls are our grails and cool is our repast
We’ll never walk fast, feel less than fantastic
Resort to mystic tricks and cryptic bliss
He stands on a corner in the mid-morning mist
Holding a paperbag filled with our favorite kicks
Our fingers slip, too quick to rip into it
It’s all that helps us to get over it
That our girlfriends won’t make men of us
Betty FREEdan toughened em up enough to make it rough for love
Eve said to God: Dog, won’t you make me a man?
The only boys in these parts have their hands down their pants
Or an unattractive and apologetic stance
Why’d you leave our loving up to chance?
She stands on a corner in the mid-morning mist
Holding a paperbag filled with her favorite kicks
Her fingers slip, too quick to rip into it
It’s all the helps us to get over it
That her boyfriend won’t make her groan enough
Betty FREEdan softened him up enough to make it rough for love - Track Name: Prozac Punk
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Who are you beating in your bedroom, Ben?
I’m often wondering/ I know
Don’t worry, mama, it’s only a friend
My life’s on the mend/ I’m sure
To feel a chin give beneath my fist
Could be like a first kiss/ oh no
Dr. K will want to hear about this
He’s first on my hit list
Who are you beating in your bedroom, Ben?
I’m often wondering
Don’t worry mama it’s only a friend
My life’s on the mend, My life’s on the mend
Lexapro, Zoloft, Lara Croft, it’s feeling soft
Lexapro, Zoloft, Lara Croft, it’s feeling soft
OUCH
Who are you beating in your bedroom, Ben?
I’m often wondering
Don’t worry mama it’s only a friend
My life’s on the mend, my life’s on the mend
Lara Croft, Zoloft, nuhuhuh
Lara Croft, Zoloft, nuhuhuh
Lara Croft, Zoloft, nuhuhuh
AHHhhah
Dry humping, dry humping, masturbation is AWESOME
GOD BLESS THE DISAFFECTED YOUTH
UH IT’S THE TRUTH, YOU GOT TO CA-CA-CA-CUM - Track Name: Cradle Rock
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Lord, please let my cradle rock
Forever forsake the stable block
My label, she walked off and ladled me a load of shock
And mama won’t talk about how I liked it
And since then I have dropped off
Let my cradle rock around the clock
I will not balk, I will not balk
At the cheaper pots chock full of amphetamines and poppy stalks
This is my lot
A life at large, as large as our age will engage
Let’s turn the page to something strange
God forbade that we abstain
Let me tell you something: I was feeling down and bound to the excess of pop. And the Hindu Hurricane came and swept me off the ground and buffeted me about and helped me figure out what this song is about. Let me tell, it was sounds. It’s all sounds, man.
Even if you can’t get your dick up to fat butts
Or there’s a mix up in your tax cuts
You can still pick up a pick up pick up and lick up all the blood
From the wounds left by a world preoccupied
With cash and hash and cunts and class
It ain’t worth crying about, nah, just turn the speakers up loud
Loud, loud, LOUDER - Track Name: Messianic May (Salmonella Fellas)
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Messianic May comes with palms splayed
Like the boards of the deck buckling beneath the weight of one thousand immigrants
Offered up to me and America
But not what’s mine, which was not taken by malaria or hysteria or other maladies of that kind
Only the simple needs each girl wants met
Too cool to fret
I freeze erect
Eyes to the coast
Searching for a silhouette
Found it yet? It’s called neglect. Better get used to it or forget.
Marta, it’s grown harder
Salmonella Fellas
That chick’s a bad egg, baby/ she ain’t colored enough
So her cracks show through/ and her shell it was stuffed
With a disregard for us/ and our belief in love
You fancied my fairytale, you owe me a buck
I said: you fancied my fairytale, you owe me a buck
Alright
What’s a pile of writhing limbs
In the face of the grand scheme of things?
A single fling seemingly dispelled by a silver ring we can never weld
I’ll bring it back in the cul-de-sac
Yes, my past’s kept track of the route you map
Shattered glass, our last gram of grass, I dream of her in a tattered cast
Carcinogen feeling whispers death in my head
Conjuring creepers crawling Cinderella’s bed
Bread alone won’t atone for the groans you carved in my dome
What’s a child of writhing limbs
In the place of the grand scheme of things?
A forgotten thing never to be held by an absent father who has always dwelled
She’ll bring it back in the cul-de-sac
Her past’s kept track of the route you map
Shattered glass, our last gram of grass, I dream of her in a tattered cast
That chick’s a bad egg, baby/ She ain’t colored enough
So her cracks show through/ and her shell it was stuffed
With a disregard for us/ and our belief in love
You fancied my fairytale, you owe me a buck
I said: you fancied my fairytale, you owe me a buck- Alright - Track Name: Jai
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Oh when I wake up/ Promise I’ll shape up
The break-up’s just a hiccup I’m rid of
Sugar once was sweet-like
Seraphim’s swam low, gave me nightlife
Every lyric was a lie, I’d rather die than miss another dawn with you
It’s temporary, true/ Words can lose
Their meaning, too/ We’re only sixteen blue
Seventeen blue, I love you, Eighteen blue
