You're Going To Ruin This For The Rest Of Us

by Superblonde

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Recorded by John Meredith at Mollusk Studio in Ridgewood, NY on 10/15/16 and 10/16/16. Mixed and mastered by John Meredith at Mollusk.

Music by Superblonde. Lyrics by Ryan Richardson.

Artwork by Fernando Martinez.

© 2016 Superblonde

credits

released December 16, 2016

J. Crawford - Drums/Percussion
A. Hornbake - Bass
R. Richardson - Vox/Guitars

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all rights reserved

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about

Ryan Richardson New York, New York

I picked up the guitar as a kid and have been making a mess ever since.

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Track Name: Kill Yourself (Then Call Me When It's Over)
Out of the fire, into the flames. Blowing smoke through a mirror. Down to the wire. Still playing games. Skipping rocks on a water moon.

We are deer in the headlights of life.
We appear dead in the light but we're alive in the darkness we make.
Track Name: You're Going To Ruin This For The Rest Of Us
Please curb your dogma. Post no bullshit. Quit dharma bummin' all my cigarettes. Spill your guts for karma, likes, and comments but don't forget the salt when taking it for granted, friend.

Tell me again so I can ignore you twice as much. Fill me in on what's been happening. I'm uninformed and out of touch.

Please curb your dogma. Post no bullshit. Quit dharma bummin' all my cigarettes. Spill your guts for karma, likes, and comments and don't forget the salt when taking this to heart, my friends.

I'll tell you again so you can ignore me just as much. I'll fill you in what's been happening when you're done being out of touch.

If there's no writing on the wall there's nothing left for us to follow. If there's no sinner there's no sin. If no one loses no one wins.
Track Name: My Type Of Stereo
Two wrongs don't make a right. A lizard king and snake in the grass will fight amongst themselves while we're pretending not to notice the bite marks swell.

But whatever comes we deserve it.

Two heads are none the better for it when the body's done eating itself from the inside out until the skin, muscles, bones within are nothing more than a ghost of what could've been.

It's endless, meaningless, and on purpose.
Track Name: Rainy Day Pagan
For 40 days and 40 nights we'll watch the world burn from our ivory tower prison windowsills in Hell.

Before the rain... settle up.

Before the rain comes the fire. Before the fire comes the kids with matches. Before the rain puts out the fire we will dance around the children's ashes.
Track Name: An Aristocratic Wrist To Cut
The poorest souls have rich become when talk is cheap and minds are dumb. If we are blind and cannot see how will we know how wealthy we all could be?

Not every head you cut off will grow two back.
Not every crack in the sidewalk's a black hole.

So roll the dice or roll over and die.

You call this a life? Paradise? Only we could be this stupid.

It's a fool's paradise.

Duh.

Die.