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Why Bother?

by Super Depressive

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1.
Mess 03:44
I caught my first real ride to your fields of plenty In an import two-door compact car. You've got your name engraved in the hearts of many; I bet they all wonder where you are. 'Cause you split like a midnight shooting star, Leaving all of the back home boys at the bar. You walked out that door. I couldn't take anymore. You took me way too far. Oh, look at the mess you got me in. Oh, look at this mess. I had my best suit pressed for that Sunday's service. I had a little memorial in mind, And I'll confess that dress had me stressed and nervous. It fit like the label on a bottle of wine. You moved like a metronome in time, And you licked your lips and you rehearsed your lines. You put it in my head That I'd be better off dead If you weren't gonna be mine. Oh, look at the mess you got me in. Oh, you were running that game, and I let you win. Did I slip when I fell when I knew that you wouldn't? That I love you so when I shouldn't? Oh, look at this mess.
2.
Can't Fix It 04:30
She's either cold as Milwaukee With ice in her stare, Or with a head full of headlines, And her hands in the air. I try and play it off gently, Like I really don't care. But the truth is I give it some thought. But when the nail hits the hammer, And the show has begun, I can't split the difference So I call her the one. There's a Thunder Moon rising, And a slow setting sun. But there's a trap in between and I'm caught. So, here I am, Locked up and loaded by late afternoon, With my heart in my vocal chords singing the blues. They don't make me feel like I feel next to you. It's got me suiting up and cuffing my sleeves. I can't fix it, so I'm fixin' to leave. This is all new to me, But it starts to get old To keep polishing pennies And keep calling 'em gold. It's either straight in the fire Or stuck out in the cold. I keep drawing these lines in the sand. I can't say it's a blessing, But can't call it a curse. You've got your flag up and flying, But they beat you here first. It might get a bit better, And I know it gets worse. Oh, I've got to get out while I can. 'Cause here I am Locked up and loaded by late afternoon, With my heart in my vocal chords singing the blues. They don't make me feel like I feel next to you. It's got me suiting up and cuffing my sleeves, And I'm crossing the state line with an eighth of a tank And a migraine and twenty-six bucks in the bank. Like a sailor on the shoreline whose ship up and sank, There ain't a back up plan I can conceive. I can't fix it, so I'm fixin' to leave. I can't fix it, so I'm fixin' to leave.
3.
The train whistle's gonna blow, But it ain't gonna whistle for me, 'Cause I'm north two-hundred miles now With a banjo on my knee. As you carry dead weight on the Interstate, I'll let the cold wind set me free From a third-story room on a lake disguised as a sea. I imagine that train is still Crossing Route 23, Where the headlights flicker as the box cars pass And they shine on your passenger seat. It won't get that far before it switches cars By the park on Champlain Street. The train whistle's gonna blow, and it ain't gonna whistle for me. I found a letter that you wrote Where you said you had to speak to me. It was cold as ice, as to sound concise. It came off as a desperate plea. I left it under part of the cigarette art In the town where we used to meet, Where years go by without a sign of a desert scene. The train whistle's gonna blow, And it ain't gonna whistle for me, 'Cause I ain't ever coming back. Yeah, your heart of coal is but a distant memory. So, go buy a pet cat and go live alone Down in Nashville, Tennessee, And when the train whistle blows, know it ain't gonna whistle for me. When the train whistle blows, no, it ain't gonna whistle for me.

about

Hi, we're Super Depressive, and we made this for you. If you dig it and you buy it, you are assuring Eric and I have food to eat. We love you for that.

We tracked this thing in an apartment in the Williamson-Marquette neighborhood of Madison, WI with a parlor guitar, a couple telecasters, a Fender Twinceton, a Yamaha CP-30, a '35 Dobro M-32, and some 90's Casio thing. We mixed it in the same apartment on a Ramsa console, with a bunch of Ashly SC-50's and SC-66a's for outboard stuff.

Thanks for listening.
-Dave

credits

released August 25, 2015

Flux Guglielmetti - Guitar, Keys, Dobro, Wizard (Part-time)
Dave Robinson - Vocals, Guitar, Keys

Tracked and mixed by the two of us.

Thanks to Jacob C. Robinson for cluing us in on Wikipedia user Oosoom's photograph on Wikipedia, and thanks to Wikipedia user Oosoom for the photograph used for the cover art.

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Super Depressive Madison, Wisconsin

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