Get all 5 Flannel Mouth releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Snow Miser vs. Heat Miser (Single), The Prisoner's Cinema, Oh, Bastard (Single), You've Convinced Me / You Don't Miss Twice Single, and Pull in Your Horns.
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Today, I'll spend alone feeling sorry for myself. With pictures face-down in their frames, I've been replaced. One day, when you're older, you'll understand that I'm always right, and you're always wrong. You're always wrong. Well maybe, baby, someday when you love me back -- but the more I think, the more I drink, the more I want you back. Is it crazy I still think about what life would be like when you're gone? Is it crazy I still think about it? This trigger says I won't think for long. I'd like to believe that I'm sane, but maybe I'm crazy. Fuck, I know that I'm high, but I'm always high, and you're always wrong. Well maybe, baby, I'm not good enough to love, but the more I try, the more you cry, the more I realize I can't love. I'd sell my soul to the devil himself just to be like the soulless we see on TV, and I'd bite my way through all the demons in hell just to fuck with the damned and all the deceased. Burn in hell. Burn.
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2. |
The Sinner
03:16
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Sleep comes easy for the guiltless, but, baby, I'm a sinful man. Death comes slowly to the martyr. A tombstone with a sales tax -- life after death spent in debt, standing trial for the crimes that we didn't commit. Oh, you sold us out. We went all in, but you played us. Yeah, I said it -- your words mean nothing. Oh, I swear not to fall; if only I knew that you would catch me. If only I knew that you cared! But when a crutch becomes a burden, it's time to stand on your own two feet and run. Run! As fast as you can. The devil's behind you; we're going to hell. Fear is seeping from the spineless, dragging us down by our feet. Faith is only for the righteous, so let's trick ourselves with our own cunning minds.
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3. |
Passing Cops
04:59
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Sleepless, I'm sleepless. This isn't the right place. This isn't the right time. I'm breathless. Don't you lie just to make me happy. Do you mean this like I mean this? Girl, you know how to bring me down. I've messed up, I'm fucked up; no need to put this barrel between my teeth. Just try and fix me, come on, I dare you. After all, I wrote this song before we ever met. To think it meant a goddamn thing -- you never loved me. I want to, I'd love to abandon everything, but I'm selfish. No, no, selfless. Just do what you want to do. In the blankets there's a blank stare -- her eyes are piercing, but mine are dead. I've messed up. I give up; no need to put this barrel up to my head. Don't say you're sorry. It's my fault, forgive me. I don't deserve this; I'm worthless, not selfish. Just arrogant and innocent. There you go, I fucking said it. I hope you're happy...like I am.
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4. |
The .22
03:07
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Oh, the meaning gets lost if you say it too much. Deprived of moral code, we'd be better off. Oh, it's a pleasure to be acknowledged at your party; such a pleasant fucking day that we are having. We don't need to see your hands; we just need to see you bleed. You're not bad -- you're just not what we expected. Yes, I'm aware that I am completely unaware. Now here's a man who never breaks his word or tells a lie, but they caught him red-handed, so they shot him down with a .22. He was fucking with the preacher's daughter, had her pinned in between the pews. The only sound is that organ playing. There's the clap of rolling thunder! Blood on her snow white dress. It was consensual murder now. We both are free men: I'm free of your daughter, and you're free of sin. A vacant stare, a bloody dress, the .22.
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Keep on breathing, love. There is no god; don't fall asleep just yet. This is wrong. This is all wrong. I'm just surprised that no one has noticed it. Maybe I'm not right, maybe I'm insane to have thrown it all away. I don't think a thing would change. It's too late. Don't kill yourself over little old me. Oh, cut your losses before they drag you down. If I was to make a move, if I was meant to...but we are controlled. Don't believe a word they say. "You won't amount to anything -- nothing of importance in the long run." Don't believe a word they say. Copied from a book they've read. Oh, you are not my son. Oh, don't mind me, love, if I sleep right through this. Just know that I still love you the same. Yeah, just the same.
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6. |
Sing for Us Tragic
05:45
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Wait! Don't leave me here alone, because I've got this feeling in my gut that you won't be coming back home. The thought's got me reaching for my gun. With the most gruesome details, tell them how you ripped me apart. With all the evidence, your hands look pretty bloody to me. And right before you let me down tell them how you ripped me apart. With all the evidence, your hands look pretty bloody. Save for the bloody mess, the whole scene was quite romantic -- bathed in candlelight -- but the kiss never comes, and the califone sings for us tragic. Sing that sweet, sweet venom-filled lie with your poison-soaked tongue. I'm not ready to go, but I can't wait to leave. There's an old marble cross in the back of the cathedral. It says, "Glory to God, to Hell with my people!" Bless the damned, bless the fucked. Bless the morally corrupt, because they don't need you like I do. I am a saint. I am a prophet, and you are my devil. But I've got a bible, your target locked on; I'm staring down the barrel. Oh, I'll show you mercy if only love would follow, but I am not worthy; this ground is holy and I am unclean. Wash your hands of me.
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Flannel Mouth Peoria, Illinois
Flannel Mouth is a four-piece band from Peoria, Illinois who uses a distinctive blend of storytelling and theatrical motifs to craft a refined and enthralling brand of Midwestern rock.
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