Let me write a song to play in coffee houses and in bars
My music doesn't get a good reaction from the kids expecting covers of Pearl Jam
I'm sorry kids that it has to be like this
It's not my fault you've got shit taste in music, is it?
So don't blame me when you hear me screaming
About slabs of meat with penis' in them
I don't know what to do
I've got nothing left for you to hear
That you will think is cool
Maybe I'm a fool for thinking
This might be something you'd be into
The bar scene really isn't my thing
It's just a bunch of old drunk people wishing I wouldn't sing
And I hate to be the bearer of bad news
Nothing productive is coming out of drinking all that booze
So clap, clap, clap, clap when my set is done
Anticipate the next set being better than the last one
The lead singer of punk band Camp Cope ventures into romantic synth-pop territory, tempering slick arrangements with bare sentiment.
Bandcamp New & Notable Jan 8, 2020
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