Deb rolls in with working sweat, thin brunette, cigarette
Kids are at their dad’s house, Friday and the jack’s out
Same and Vic they lost their spot, sparking pot, parking lot
Lit bar with the same pack, still got on our name tags, yea
Jotting down these passing thoughts, fasten knots, glass and shots
Shoot the shit with new face, numbing out my tooth ache
When I could be writing sounds, I’m biting down, wiping out
Cherry picking facts right, won’t you spit em back like yea
Chin tipped up, wades through the slop, flawless snob, office job
Chirping about his school now, waiter wipe the stool down
Wants his drink 3/4 ice and be precise, oh Jesus Christ
Counting down like tick tock, till he gets his shit rocked, yea
Fishing affirmation and I raise my can, patient man
Trying to bite my tongue down, snap and let it come out
Burning red all pissed with me, plainly cause I disagree
Default to your high ground, you can drown out my sound, yea
I’ve been apt to spit my pride, rip these ties, synthesize
Cut back to the truth right, vomit in the moonlight
Own it and keep walking on, lock the flaws, rock along
Learning I know nothing, everybody’s bluffing
So you can laugh and scoff, oh just keep jacking off
So self contained, I’m proudly ripping people off, oh yea
Moody and moving, Good Good Blood’s “Son of a Gun” has a richness and breadth that belies its home-recording roots. Bandcamp New & Notable Oct 30, 2017
The first full-length release from this St. Louis group is full of simple, sweet dream pop songs with a touch of Paisley Underground fuzz. Bandcamp New & Notable Aug 24, 2018