Art of the Underground, Vol. 46

by Sick Sick Birds

/
1.
03:28
2.
04:30

credits

released October 31, 2009

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Sick Sick Birds Baltimore, Maryland

contact / help

Contact Sick Sick Birds

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Little Champ
lights up defenses down, they said it's all different now.
fair weather friends win unfair fights and drag you to the ground. you want to be remembered, everyone wants to be. god save Bill Buckner, everyone wants to be.

when up is down, believe in the setback. it's a touchdown on the tarmac.

crumbled rose and washed out road and you can't hold it in. shooting dirty looks and burning books, it's the best you've been. curled lips and laughs and lies and far too proud to advertise. scanning with your lazy eyes for beaming faces bleeding dry.

and you're too tired to bother, and the speeches get more hollow. and the longer that you stall you lose your faith. you can find the courage for your best split second urges. and you do what you can to save your face.

coming clean and coming down. your footwork's down to science now. martini and a spiral pad for the best ideas you ever had.

you can find the courage for your best split second urges. and you do what you can to save your face.
in with a bang with the best joke ever. the little champ with the back shop efforts. up from behind in the shortest time, then drinking in the sun with the damage done.

all eyes are on you.

more mass fringe thinking
when it all breaks down
better get to the blinking
when it all breaks down
Track Name: Up at Night
just a slow death, marching step for step. your watching out for me is killing me. and sometimes things get turned around, and you say "a little time is all you need." a chess phenom in waiting for a better place and kind. exes front to front, stuck together. you've got the next 10 moves in mind. he flew around the word just to touch the guitar. he came all this way to pass out in the car.

if there's something i should be turning over, you're going to have to fill me in. you can resent my implications if it makes you feel justified. walking around like you're on death row on trumped-up charges. bodega altar and burning candles. shoebox full of truth and lies.

said a few words for the miracle girl with the baboon heart. she had get back to the starting line to untie the knot. she's playing hard to get with her boyfriend in tow. she always thinks twice but she never ever says no.

and you take your cues from mixed reviews
(you stopped the clock just in time) for the firebombs to feul your little feuds.

long live the long lines, they're the best times
rewrite the failures with the headlines. want ads say experience to determine pay. all the little digs just to rattle the cage.

and you take your cues from mixed reviews for the firebombs to feul your every feud.

you can't let it flicker out in time. you got all the midnight bankers on the line. save time for settling the scores for the veterans of nondescript wars. you think you're doing right for me keeping lighters away from gasoline. you're checking up and choking down. turn the bylines the other way around.

you're not keeping me up at night.