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S​/​T EP

by The Pre-Nods

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1.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald Strap me to a desk I do everything you say Mentally flatlining for 50 bucks a day I can't get it up. I can't get ahead Creepos like me probably better off dead I wanna burn down my work, run the school bus off the road Mama always tried to provide a happy home What happened to respect? What happened to soul? What happened to pulling out? I think I'm gonna explode. I'm gonna explode I'm not all right if that's what you think I can't get it right. I can't get it right. Whatcha looking at? Do you wanna fight? Someone's at the door. Someone's at the door. I don't like your face. You're a dirty whore. You piece of shit. You piece of shit. Shut the fuck up. I don't wanna hear it. What's that you say? What's that you say? Get away from me. I don't wanna play. I'm gonna explode. I'm gonna explode I'm not all right if that's what you think
2.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald Never wake up in the morning Rather party all night instead Don't fend for myself Grandma brings me breakfast in bed Forget doin dishes use paper plates and cups alla the time I'll come over uninvited, take a big dump and I'll drink all of your wine I'm a spoiled degenerate World's going to shit, man I guess that's a real shame I'll just sit here in my basement playing old school video games. Got caught drunk driving Like you say you never will No skin off my back Daddy paid my medical bills I'm a spoiled degenerate Spend all my money on rock and roll and comic books Scared stiff of barber shops I give old ladies dirty looks I used to write graffiti A real teenage anarchist But now that I'm grown I'm a spoiled degenerate I'm a spoiled degenerate
3.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald Opulence & Corpulence Corpulence & Decadence Too late too late We've sealed our fate Battle cry battle cry Who cares? Dead eyes No future. No pain. No races. No names. Angry Tuesday Opulence & Corpulence Corpulence & Decadence So sorry so sorry We killed Jane we killed Bobby So much pain so much stews Pay our bills cash our cheques No words. No poems. No hearts. No homes. Angry Tuesday Cardio Gotta do your cardio
4.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald I'm a punk rocker I'm real upset I won't take no shit but I'll cash a welfare check I'm a punk rocker I don't eat no meat wear my patent leather jacket while I protest in the street Punks not dead but you're not it you're a fucking hypocrite Punks not dead but I'm not it I'm a fucking hypocrite I'm a punk rocker don't wear no uniform What the fuck is he thinking? He's got the style wrong I'm a punk rocker Crush those nazi dogs All my friends are white I wear a maltese cross Punks not dead but you're not it you're a fucking hypocrite Punks not dead but I'm not it I'm a fucking hypocrite
5.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald Don't talk shit about our greasy mayor 10 grand hookers and hundred dollar hair don't talk shit about the death penalty they'll give it to you, they'll give it to me Don't say a word about Israeli fascists Bohemian Grove or Southern Baptists Don't talk shit about the price of oil Big money to dig it on out of our soil Don't talk shit Don't talk shit Don't talk shit It's toxic Don't say a word about the new world order Eat your TV dinner and watch horders Don't talk shit about the evil empire set your house, your wife, your kids on fire Don't say a word about Monsanto Those corporate bastards crush commie assholes Don't talk shit about original sin Cuz the big bad wolf is listening in Don't talk shit Don't talk shit Don't talk shit It's toxic
6.
Factory Job 02:58
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald CHORUS I love my factory job Spend half my life getting robbed I love going to work Taking guff from a full time jerk I love pulling steel Eating raunchy lunch truck meals I love spreading germs Getting treated like a measly worm Lemme go home CHORUS I love my broken brain I love chronic back pain I love swearing in Polski Ain't nothin better for me I love getting drunk I love the smell of a skunk Love all them ugly faces That come from different places CHORUS I love my factory friends Marishka and the gay Russian I love buying lots of toys But I'd rather be unemployed I love the pop machine Great big dose of Gangrene I love my slice of hell That they call Crawford Metal Lemme go Home
7.
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald Go out with some buds for a couple beers Put on some slick duds might get laid it's new years Big party big city the gang's feeling all right never expected the night would end in a knife fight. Sure he was a smartass but a solid guy Mighta cracked wise but didn't deserve to die Shit got tense Shit got real Why the fuck did my buddy's blood get spilled? Nobody wins in a knife fight I'll bleed your blood stay off the fucking streets Took a friend and a joker gave us only grief He was still a kid just begun to live I hope you felt real brave with your fucking shiv Usedta make me laugh, he always could Taped a cardboard air intake to his hood Mighta been crass and kinda silly but you fucking killed my favourite hillbilly Nobody wins in a knife fight Getting old sucks anyways
8.
Uncle Deli 04:40
Lyrics by Jim Fitzgerald This song's about crack whores This song's about sleaze This song's about cutting things up and doing as you please This song's about dying This song's about drugs This song's about living a life without love Have you ever heard of Uncle Deli? A fine upstanding church going kinda guy He's locked up in the pen for life So listen up I'm gonna tell ya why Uncle Deli was a simple pig farmer supplying cuts of meat to all the stores You'd think he was all right he paid his taxes But Uncle Deli liked to chop up whores 3 cheers for Uncle Deli 3 cheers Hip hip hooray 3 cheers for Uncle Deli The king of meats is coming for you today Booked for 7 killed 49 Must a been nice serving semi hard time Caught for 7 cut up 49 Asked him what it was like said he liked it just fine Uncle Deli killed 49 women Butchered em and wrapped them up in his home Fed the bones to his trusty swine And probably had a nibble of his own Who cares about crack whores going missing? They're not even real people anyways But some flat foots would disagree Uncle Deli better think about changing his ways 3 cheers for Uncle Deli 3 cheers Hip hip hooray 3 cheers for Uncle Deli The king of meats is coming for you today Booked for 7 killed 49 Must a been nice serving semi hard time Caught for 7 cut up 49 Asked him what it was like said he liked it just fine Have you ever heard of Robert Pickton? A butcher and a murderer at best Freeze dried and fried up somebody's daughters and fed the little piggies all the rest. So you better watch out Be real careful Buy extra dead bolts if you can Become a bedtime story for naughty children Because Uncle Deli is the Boogie Man Booked for 7 killed 49 Must a been nice serving semi hard time Caught for 7 cut up 49 Asked him what it was like said he liked it just fine 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 7x7 is 49 Killed 49 women Took 49 lives Street corner crack whores Ain't nobody's wives Flesh is sweet Flesh is soft Everybody's looking for ways To get off

about

Recorded by White Jonny in Hamilton, Ontario at Len & Candy's house.

Thanks to Len Cramer & Candy Rotten for all the love & support.

credits

released November 14, 2014

All Songs Written By The Pre-Nods
Jim Fitzgerald (Vocals, Harmonica)
Jonny Swinger Moore Davidson (Guitar, Vocals)
John Uprise Kedini (Bass, Vocals)
Sam Baker (Guitar)
Rob Champion (Drums)

Cover art by Jim & Sam

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The Pre-Nods Hamilton, Ontario

The Pre-Nods were active from 2010-2014
Jim Fitzgerald
(lead vocals, blues harp)
Jonny Swinger
(guitar, vocals)
John Uprise
(bass, vocals)
Sam Baker
(guitar)
Rob Champion (drums)

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