let me introduce you to our dumb little band. you might find it hard to
understand–we’ve got a show even though we know no one’s gonna go.
we’ll crank our second-hand marshall stacks dumb little kn*bs. we’re
paying for them with our dumb little jobs. the guy at the bar says he
thinks we okay, we kind of remind him of green day. but it’s a dumb
little band and tehre’s not much to say maybe we’ll see you when we play
in some big empty room one day. we do a record every year that no body’s
gonna year or understand, a dumb little band. every year we
self-destruct a bit. we break up when teh drummer quits. we talk him
into doing one more show and then the b*ss player quits and we break up
again. we don’t know how to be regular guys or what to do with out dumb
little lives. we don’t’ have anything to prove. we’ll be in trouble if we
ever do. cause it’s a dumb little band but we travel through the land.
we unpack all our stuff from our dumb little van. we play some songs and
then we pack it up again. hand in hand, a dumb little band. not exactly
in demand. our friends are all busy with their own affairs, becoming
punk rock millionaires. they’re taping their live alb*m at the hollywood
bowl. we’re taping our flyers to the telephone pole. it’s a dumb little
band and n*body knows why we keep having shows even though n*body goes.
we keep rolling along playing our dumb little songs. hand in hand, a
dumb little band…
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