Duotang | Lyrics
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Nostalgia’s a Vice

Your point is louder than clear
Perhaps because you shouted it right into my ear
Yes, the music is boring and this place is no fun
And it’s not been the same since back in 2001.
I totally see how disappointment would rise
If nothing’s as good as it was in your time
Nostalgia’s a vice, familiar and safe
But one that can easily get carried away

Are you lost in the digital age?
Do you distrust most people half of your age?
Do you think culture has been in decline
Since hitting a peak back in ‘79
You gotta move on
Explore the options and embrace something new
It might be good for you

I guess I might feel the same
More often than not, I feel rather estranged
Is it that music was better before?
Or a I curmudgeonly, stubborn and bored?
I guess that its time that we should open our minds
Perhaps it is time to give the present a try
Nostalgia’s a vice, familiar and safe
And one that so easily gets carried away

We gotta move on
Explore the options and embrace something new (and escape from our youth)
That might be good to do

It would be wise to heed what I say
Nostalgia’s a vice that can get carried away
But as I seem to lack self-restraint
If nostalgia’s a vice, I am the first to partake

But I can’t go back, there’s nowhere to go to
Memory lane is boarded up now


Karma Needs to Come Around

I don’t understand why the need to offend
I guess it makes you feel stronger and more masculine
You’re brash, and you’re loud, but you think it’s okay
To do near anything you want so long you get your way
You take it all too far,
But karma will soon come around

You ride on their backs with your head held high
You think your family’s accomplishments to you apply
You lie and you cheat and you bully and scold
And frankly carry on like a spoiled twelve year old
You take it all too far,
But karma will soon come around
And it’s gone on for too long
But karma will soon come around

I’d like to sit you down and argue with you face to face
And with a razor-sharp wit put you in your place
But the real world is nothing like the one in my head
In reality I’d probably only choke instead
I can barely ask directions without turning red

Karma needs to come around

I’d like to sit you down and argue with you face to face
And with a razor-sharp wit put you in your place
And the room would erupt in a great applause
As I destroyed your position and exposed your flaws
But the real world is nothing like the one in my head
In reality I’d probably only choke instead
I can barely ask the time without turning red

Karma needs to come around

 

That’s What Keeps Us Alive

It was a balance, just right
That created all life
Not some Being on High
With disposable time
In much the same way
We need both pleasure and pain
We need some lows with our highs
To make us feel we’re alive

That’s what keeps us alive

There is much more to “Being”
Than just existing, it seems
We are more than just cells
Combined as animate shells
So being sheltered and fed
Might well keep us from death
But it’s culture and life
And having something to strive
for that keeps us alive

That’s what keeps us alive

Sure the 9 to 5 days
Provide me generous pay
But it’s the ramshackle nights
That I’d prefer to revive
As an ironic aside,
It’s the bad habits and vice
That may well cause our demise
That help us feel we’re alive

That’s what keeps us alive

 

 

New Occupation

It’s a path of random actions
That has caused dissatisfaction, true
The employ does not define
What goes on in the heart or the mind
The new occupation, you don’t want to talk about
The new occupation, you don’t want to talk about the truth – you don’t know what you’re doing

Though it’s not your choice of calling
Over time it’s not so appalling, you
Know that choice does not apply
When it’s all circumstance that decides
The new occupation, no one should talk about
The new occupation, you don’t want to talk about the truth – you don’t know what you’re doing

Look around there’s so many people trying to rise above
But we’re all bound to find we crossed some line at sometime
Realise that not many people can live off of what they love
Most of us have to sacrifice
Most of us have to learn how to compromise

Over time you’re language changes
And you find your clothing is changing too
Though the joy is hard to find
It has now taken over your life
The new occupation it’s all you can talk about
The new occupation – and now you’re facing up the truth
You are what you do
Yes you are what you do
(Play along for compensation)

 

 

Bastard Five

It started off late in schoolyard days
Bonded by broken homes and foul play
Maybe that’s the rhyme or reason why
We came to call ourselves the Bastard Five

John always felt he had no worth
Jimmy’s Mom cheated months before his birth
Tom’s Dad left when he was nine
Paul and I rounded out the Bastard Five

Though technically we never did fit the name
The moniker provided us a common aim
Filling up the holes in empty lives
With any substitution that we could find

It was all for one and one for all
Until one by one we ventured off
To new lives

We were wonderfully short-sited lads
Now I’m both a near and far sited man
Sitting all alone on a Friday night
Wondering what became of the Bastard Five

The goddam world didn’t go our way
So we just found another game that we could play
Filling up the holes in our empty lives
With any libation we could find

All for one and one for all
Until one by one we ventured off
To new lives

It was nice to say that for a while we belonged
The Bastard Five

 

The Mentors

When I’m focused on the fault line
And I feel I’ve been preoccupied
Thinking more about the should have beens
As opposed to what could be
I just turn all my attention
Onto my record collection
For the songs that bring me peace of mind
And a feeling that it’s all fine
When I need some inspiration
Perhaps a new direction
From my mentors who are guiding me
Through the songs that they write that I crawl inside of, and know
Everything is going to be alright
Give it time and it will be alright
Push the nagging little things aside
You can’t be bothered if you pay no mind

So I’m dodging around the fault lines
‘Cause the faults could never be mine
I reject responsibility
As my mentors have advised me
I’ll find some inspiration
And misinformation (immunization)
In the choruses and melodies
Of my favourite songs, so when things go wrong I will know that
Everything is going to be alright
Give it time and it will be alright
Push the nagging little things aside
You can’t be bothered if you pay no mind
I know this little mantra might seem quite trite
But everything, in time, is going to be alright

There’s nothing you can do about the things you’ve done
And there is no point in worrying about the things to come
No, I’m not the person that I ever thought I’d be
But if I turn the volume up, and that doesn’t bother me
Let it go – everything is going to be alright
Everything is going to be alright
Lennon, Reed and Davies were my guides to life
And they taught me everything is going to be alright

 

 

A Suitable Distraction

Some people have the opinion that they should decide
The way that other people ought to live their lives
Following the lessons that they think they’re told
In a storybook that’s nearly two millennium old
This is my life to waste
No accounting for taste
Searching for distraction and an easy way out
A suitable distraction and an easy way out

It’s easier to follow with the pack than stray
To simply capitulate and join the fray
But I’m of the opinion I alone decide
upon the nasty habits that will fill my time
It’s my life to waste
Every misstep and mistake
While I’m searching for distraction and an easy way out
A suitable distraction and an easy way out

But I carry on like nothing’s changed
You’d think I would outgrow this stage

This is our life to waste
Every misstep and mistake
The self-righteous should go
And just focus on their own.
While we’re searching for distraction and an easy way out
A wonderful distraction and an easy way out
A suitable distraction and an easy way out

 

The Happening

The color bursts of pure adrenalin
That fills a dreamlike scene
The vibrant pulse of light and dark that builds
Upon a widened screen
The sound of hollow footsteps overdubbed
An early new wave film
And the stark black and white cinematography
Makes everything feel
Perfectly still
It feels like something is happening
That something quite good could be happening
And even if I’m just imagining
The mind is a fertile ground

The dialogue that builds the chemistry
In sharply crafted prose
The reminiscence of a melody
Perfectly composed
The real world may not provide us with
The picture we desire
But we can always escape to vamped up substitutes
Conjured in our minds
Blurring the line
It feels like something is happening
That something quite good could be happening
And even if I’m just imagining
The mind is a fertile ground

A wasted afternoon
A summer evening’s glow
A warming, waking smile
Why don’t we stay around?

It feels like something is happening
That something quite good could be happening
And even if I’m just imagining
The mind is a fertile ground
Why not stay around?

 

Prisoner’s Dilemma

There’s nothing quite like the threat of the past to keep you on edge day and night
You’re chained to the act, but as well you are chained to the others involved
It started off as a mountain of guilt, but since eroded to a minor incline
Feeling safe in the knowledge that nobody wants to get caught
So you thought it was all wrapped up neatly
You thought it was all hid away from the life that you’re living today
The months fly by and the tension’s relieved, relegated to the back of the mind
Its funny how easily time can make light of a shady affair
You were out of your mind at the time,
Full of substances and full of yourself
Ripe for the crime
Thought it was all wrapped up neatly
You thought it was all hid away and wrote off as a stupid mistake
But now it’s out of your hands, about to explode, someone’s bound shoot their mouth open wide
The question’s not who, how, or why it is said, the question is when.
You haven’t talked since the night of the crime
Assumed the whole thing was kept to yourselves
But now the questions are beginning to rise
And the evidence is starting to swell
This is what they call the prisoner’s dilemma
Trying to read the other one’s mind
To confess or deny
You thought it was all wrapped up neatly
You thought it was all hid away from the life that you’re living today
It’s no longer all wrapped up neatly
It’s not hid away and the silence is starting to fray
And you’re only concern is what the other might say

 

Friends

Eyes squinted, a slight apprehension
Why can’t we just get along
Why can’t we just be friends
Eyes open, a tense situation
Why can’t we just get along
Why don’t we just be friends

 

Can’t Help Having My Reservations

The systems going flat – I offer my opinion though no one asked.
The gaps are getting so much wider, and the haves are hanging on much tighter.
Some media, it seems, only help to put the crass in democracy
As it’s dominated by the ad-man, making news into an entertainment
All the issues of our times get painted black or white

Everyone has got the answer, the hypocritical know-it-alls
I can’t help having my reservations.
Of and By and For the People, means the interest groups get the full control
The rest get force fed information
I can’t help having my reservations.

The masses are confused
All the choices, many choices, but none to choose
And the information’s overloading
While the quality is fast eroding
Shouting out on-line
Seem to me to be quote a waste of time
Why not sing it at a room of strangers
Out of key, and call it ‘entertainment’

Everyone has got the answer, the hypocritical know-it-alls
I can’t help having my reservations.
Of and By and For the People, means the interest groups get the full control
The rest get force fed information
I can’t help having my reservations.

I’m afraid that it’s true, that I really don’t have a view (a minority will always rule)

Bloated out with self-importance, the hypocritical know-it-alls
I can’t help having my reservations
But I am just an arm chair critic spending too much time sitting on my own
Dreaming up cynical observations and filling my head with reservations.

I can’t help having my reservations

 

Quite Content in the Rut

The grey brown leaves were smothering a common ground
There was a chill upon the autumn sky, and it just didn’t sit right
Time seems to slip away, and I feel a little estranged
It was the summer of my discontent
And now that winter’s right around the corner, I can’t help feel in a rut.

It’s hard to revive a night’s enjoyment at a quarter to five
The glasses empty, and the language slow, the conversation at an all-time low
It’s been the same scene since we were in our late teens
Twenty years or more is an estimate
Maybe more, but that’s not important it makes me feel in a rut

But now the grey brown leaves look golden on the sunlit ground
There’s not a cloud within the autumn sky, and I’m seeing in a different light
All things can be changed, or at least they can be rearranged
Or you could always try to circumvent
What I’m saying is, I feel okay, and I’m quite content in the rut.