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from LETTERS HOME by GET DEAD

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lyrics

The truth hits everyone like a million atom bombs. And I can't understand how everybody can be so calm. Time is running out and they all just sit around. So leave your message at the beep because I'm leaving town. Tell my girl I'm sorry but daddy's gotta roam. The only time I feel at ease is a thousand miles from home. Tell the boys when I get back, whiskey shots on me. But for now I got no time to spare and I got no time to bleed. So raise your glass to a life off the grid. Raise full sails, pull anchor dead ahead. Starboard towards a future that is always unknown. And when this vessel sinks I'll finally be home. Another night, another town, another show to play. Another friend, another pint, another girl's heart breaks. Drunk tired and starving, lost with no money. But a stage and a crowd and a microphone is all we really need to be free. So buy us another shot and throw us in the van. If you give us a destination you're giving us something we understand. So raise your glass to a life off the grid. Raise full sails, pull anchor dead ahead. Starboard towards the future that is always unknown. And when this vessel sinks I'll finally be home. Now we've been drinking for way to long. Pineapples and Gin pouring strong. And we've no money for gasoline on me, live together, die free. So raise your glass to a life off the grid. Raise full sails, pull anchor dead ahead. Starboard towards a future that is always unknown. And when this vessel sinks I'll finally be home.

credits

from LETTERS HOME, track released January 1, 2009

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GET DEAD San Francisco, California

GET DEAD are a punk band from San Francisco, CA. Brought together by their appeal for punkrock & joy of acoustic impurities. They continue to bring their debaucherous music to all towns, events, venues and fans that will tolerate them, baptize them in beer and indulge in after hours dance parties with maximum bubbles. ... more

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