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Complicated Drinking Games EP

by Boomstick

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1.
The National Weather Service Is Predicting A Big Blizzard Thing 00:35
lyrics
It starts off light and clean This shaky snowglobe scene The New Orleans Saints are jacking off The campus is turning into Hoth And now we’re waging wars on the liquor stores We’re marching in like Sherman trying to decimate their Southern Comfort There’s icicle spikes and the boredom strikes And the walls are closing in on anyone without a tauntaun And the flurries, they’re record setting We’re slipping on the sidewalks and they’re calling for more on Wednesday It don’t feel that great when you don’t know the date But it’s the third night in a row you’ve thrown up in the snow or the sink
2.
Fairfield County 03:18
lyrics
She lived in Fairfield County but she grew up in denial When your stepdad owns pharmaceuticals it will only be awhile Till Long Island iced teas turn into Oxycontin Her mother already thinks that she's Nancy Botwin She can't recall a Friday since she was in 6th grade But last time that things got sticky she thinks she took the time and prayed The third angel was a hatter, poured his vial on the rivers Young people making love and pimping out their livers New York City is 40 miles away Getting drunk in the middle of the day Oh suburban light fades to suburban night Printing headlines 'bout suburban plight Thursday nights mean complicated drinking games Getting stoned on Saturday always end up just the same Growing up meant throwing up and throwing up meant cough syrup And when you sip Guaifenesin your stomach gets messed up Her father filled his pockets on the shores of Candlewood She said an "Our Father" and assumes His plans are good First the Lord giveth and then He take away Sunday mornings spent too hungover not to pray New York City's only 40 miles away Summers always meant getting screwed up day to day Oh suburban dusk to suburban dawn Drinking bourbon straight, getting too far gone Working at a Cumby’s trying to get her ends to meet Fall from heaven, fall from grace, fall from the elite Beat your swords to plowshares and your spears to pruning hooks Trying to be a friend but only getting dirty looks There’s gonna come a time when none of this will matter When Daddy’s Ford Mustangs, four each in factory colors Won’t take you for rides, and rides won’t get you higher And all your prescription medications won’t protect you from the fire There’s gonna come a time when you’ll call up the Whore of New York City You’ll ride shotgun seat in his seven cylinder Jeep Grand Cherokee And the seven angels will crash your parties and spill their drinks in violent party fouls Moloch whose soul is banks and lives will soon turn to Howl There’s gonna come a time when none of this will matter You’ll have to drop that bittersweet blotter but none of this will matter None of this will matter.
3.
Nina's Yard Blues 02:26
lyrics
My senior prom I did attend She made out with my best friend So I made out with a fifth of jack In the limo too drunk to move Standing up out the sun roof I did some things that I can’t take back Three months later I left for school My roommate was a total tool But he knew a kid who had a card We all went to Nina’s house Must have smoked a quarter ounce I threw up in Nina’s yard I threw up in Nina’s yard Suburban kids on the radio I hate college sometimes I don’t Your pop flows like molasses I got bored so I started a band We play punk rock but it’s kinda bland I think we need to replace Bisenius We need to replace Bisenius I’m young and dumb and make mistakes Life’s too short to use the brakes Regrets and goals and a 30 pack Regrets and goals and a 30 pack Regrets and goals and 2 30 racks
4.
A Well Deserved Rest 06:02
lyrics
I’ve been acting pretty mean I don’t want to seem like the bastard I might be So I won’t reciprocate Everything you’ve said of late about that very thing Some say that being the bigger person will keep you walking tall But after all I’d rather receive such a burden and later shrug it off so Take me down to that river And keep my body clean Keep my body clean Keep my body clean I’ve been wearing this fatigue Right out on my sleeve Where my heart used to be With cold eyes searching at old lines Scratched out in the sand Somewhere I longer see Some say that being the bigger person will keep you walking tall But after all I’d rather receive such a burden and later shrug it off so Keep your backyard posted keep your shotgun loaded Keep your eyes straight ahead Something’s got to turn out right There’s a Bible on the table between the stereo cables and ghosts You don’t know the pain you cause At the bottom of the bottle there’s a fox with a starving mind and Your hens are safe your hens are safe Your hens are already dead

about

8/20/11 Update: removed the demos to save them for the upcoming release of everything that is not this EP. Also made this available for free download because, if you want to buy a physical copy, you probably have by now.

credits

released March 1, 2011

All songs written by Zander Roell/Matthew Bisenius, except “A Well Deserved Rest,” written by Zander Roell/Matthew Bisenius/Noah Patton/Nathan Guttendorf/Evan Armstrong, and licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial Share Alike License. To view a copy of this license visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/

Boomstick is: Noah Patton (bass, harmonies), Evan Armstrong (lead guitar, violin, cello, harmonies), Zander Roell (lead vocals, harmonica), Matthew Bisenius (rhythm guitar, vocals), Nathan Guttendorf (drums, banjo).

Danni Long and Erin Murray sing on “Fairfield County.” Danni Long, Erin Murray, Tricia Mellotte, Dave Arnold, Kyle Kresge, Jeff Shoolbraid, Jake Friedman, Charles Peterson, Bartleby Mackenberg, Matthew Royal, Lance Caulfield, Wyatt Texido sing on “A Well Deserved Rest.” Matt plays the guitar solo on “Nina’s Yard Blues” (get it? you get it).

Evan recorded, engineered, mixed, mastered, enhanced and did all sorts of other technical things to make this EP during the month of February, 2011. All photography by Zach Wright, rights reserved. Album artwork designed by Zander and Matt one night.

Boomstick would like to thank: the Bisenius family, the Roell family, the Patton family, the Armstrong family, the Guttendorf family, Danni, Rachel, The Guild, NWC Homies, CW Hoodrats, the Funpartment, 61 Penn, Jeff, Zach, Ben, Dylan, Isaac, my son Kyle, Brandon, Andie, Beth, Frank, Nick, Ramsey, and Scott; for treating us like a real band even when we don’t treat ourselves as such, Nina, Ms. Connie, and Stu. Also all the people who helped make our tour happen, Mike Pfeiffer, Tyler Armstrong, Andrew Lowrey, The Secret House of Pancakes, Hannah Kaplan, Mike Mandel, and probably others because, as of writing this, Our destinations aen’t set in stone yet. All the bands we’ve opened for; Jawesomesaurus Rex!, Factors of Four, TRAGWAG (Matt looks like Ali), the Transgressions, Fires, Red City Radio, the Riot Before, the Max Levine Ensemble, Trashkanistan, Bomb the Music Industry!, also the Elevator Ladies, the Bipolar Bears, Welcome to Boone, Keep the Girls, the Dub-E, Liquid Law, and especially Sharks in Venice.

This album is dedicated to Grattan Vincent Armstrong, Justin Xavier Dorsey, and Tom William Rouleau, without whom we would not be here making music.

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Boomstick Westminster, Maryland

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