Songs Out The Ass

by Sküsh

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Dag Blahlia Not too shabby for a week's work! Favorite track: This Song Sucks.
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about

The goal was to make an album in one week. We wrote it in three days, in a Hampden basement that was hot as hell. We spent two days recording. On the seventh day, 'Songs Out The Ass' was born. We ate a lot of chinese food... I just thought that should be mentioned. Thank you, rice.

credits

released July 19, 2017

Guitar and drums recorded by Mike Walls in exchange for a Red Lobster Gift Card

Produced by Josh Douglas ( He was in the room with us )

Bass and Vocals Recorded with Matt Geckle's gaming microphone

Album Art by Chris Mintree

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about

Sküsh Baltimore, Maryland

Sküsh is back, baby!

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Track Name: Bummer In The City
Summertime just slapped me in the face
Sweating at the bus stop with Pike Place
Hair sticking to my pits and sticking to my tits,
and all I can think is, "It's hot as shit."
I'm sticking to anything here but... you.
Bummer in the city.
Freezer door just decked me in the face.
AC's always busted at my place.
I'm sticking to the walls and sticking to the floorboard.
Sticking to my guns, can't take it anymore.
I'm sticking to anything here but... you.
Bummer in the city.
Track Name: Mousy
Hanging on a corny conversation from 3 months ago. I don't really know why I thought I could bring it up right now. And now, I'd really love to go. Make me want to scurry in a ditch, though I think you're the Lilo to my Stitch. We'll go on many adventures flipping carts, and scaring shoppers at the local Mars. You think that I'm mousy 'cause my face starts to twitch, my brain turns to fuzz, I squeak out the words that I never mean, then, "Yada yada yada," adios! Hanging on a corny conversation from 3 months ago. I don't really know why I thought I could bring it up right here, and now I really want to go. Hanging from a mega-ricketty ski lift alone in the middle of New Mexico... There's nowhere to go.
Track Name: This Song Sucks
Why do I whine all the time? Kind of like being content is a fucking crime. And then the horns go ~~~ Everything is a mess, and so am I. These songs suck, and my life sucks, and everything has gone to shit. These song suck, and my life sucks, and I kind of think you suck, too. This song sucks, and my life sucks. And hell, I think I kind of like it. I guess I've got some creepy kind of pride. Yes, my ways are a mess, but hell, they're mine. And then the horns go ~~~ Everything is a mess and so am I.
Track Name: Brake Check
Drive on the railroad--move over!
Track Name: Self-Help Section
Well, I was at the library, not because of anybody-- came here for myself. At least I thought so, just before every single antibody put you in my sight. And I was wondering, do I look just as bad as I smell? And I was wondering how can you look so hungover yet handsome as hell? I had a rough night shift to a rough life. Fuck everybody, rinse and then repeat. I can't help but love that of anywhere and anybody, you'd pick the library. And I was wondering, do you put the milk in first, or do you think it's lame? Do you wanna know my middle name? I could ask you for help to reach the top shelf, or be a creep who walks off and says nothing.
Track Name: Tuna Melt
When I'm eating diner food, it makes me think of you. And, how I feel like a five-foot tuna melt-- never know what to do. I think that I walked past your girlfriend earlier today. I said, "Howdy do," but only to her dog. I'm not sorry.
Track Name: Dry Humour
Boy, you're making me hurt in that Weezer shirt. The world has turned and left you here. Drugs are better alone. Friends are better alone, I'd love to get you... Is your tolerance too high? Is your humour too dry? It's a weird thing to say. Do it anyway, and hope that you'd like me better that way. You'd look better in red, even better with your head hanging from my kitchen wall. So, give me a sign. I'm coming when you call for red or white wine. Drugs are better alone. Friends are better alone. I'd love to get you another beer. Drugs are better alone. Friends are better alone. I'd love to get you.
Track Name: Bloody Fine!
Wake up-- scoop a bra off from the floor. Wipe the hummus off my face. Put my towel back on the door. Get up-- PBR, PB no J. Take the dog out, he does nothing. Feed him while I force it down. When you first heard, "God," well, what did you see? And what do you see when you're staring at me through a phone screen, with a brightness of 30? Well, fuck you, dude. I'm feeling 22 and Edy's tastes like a bad tattoo. And tomorrow's a pain, but today I'm feeling fine-- bloody fine! And maybe outside, it's hot as a tit. But, the theater's pretty cool and it's showing dumb shit. I'm dropping my phone through the gap in the seat and I wait 'til the to reach underneath. Fuck it, dude. I'm climbing out of my pit. And saving the day while I'm eating my script. And tomorrow's a chore. I don't care anymore. And it hurts when I think about that time. Gotta leave it all behind, pack it in an old bandana. And it hurts, gotta leave it all behind. Gonna say it's only ketchup. Gonna leave my sheets tonight.
Track Name: Who Invited That Guy?
I'm gonna stare at the sun
I'm not afraid of anyone
I'm not afraid to fight
If you get close I might bite
I'm gonna eat my sleeve
If you ask I still won't leave
I forget what goes here
I'm gonna drink another beer
I'm gonna stare at the sun
I'm gonna stare at the sun
I'm gonna stare at the sun
I'm gonna stare at the sun
I'm gonna stare at the sun