Full Album (Pdf)

FIREWORKS Music by Daniel Joseph & Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO VERSE 4x Vocals 10 4 . . & 4 ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

C F A min D min BREAK 4x Vox. & . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . ∑ ∑

OUTRO C F A min D min C

4x Vox. & . ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ . ∑

It's hard to be living Shit in storage, living from a suitcase You gotta play the cards you were given thinking “this is how a silver spoon tastes?” You think it's simple but it god damn isn't cause you can make a dream possible It's tougher now than breaking out of Shaw- but it'll never be easy, no matter what you shank prison, and chase As you're hittin your prime If you wanna poke fun then do so People say you been committing a crime I'll do it for you, it's no crime, I'm But I won't quit till iIm home, I'll chip the lime- like if the dude from Juno grew a Jewfro stone a bit at a time and liked to rhyme [OOoooooohhh!!!] Wait! I'm a pale ass pale So tell me that I'm not a rapper middle-class straight white male tell Rudolph he can't pull sleighs I won't have an alibi the day I fail tell Pluto it's not a planet cause if I ever went to jail, mom would pay and he'll probably keep spinning in the my bail same old way in a [boom boom] heartbeat on and every, every day/ right around the Mom and dad have given me a lot more sun, wanna feel the rays than a pat on the back and I gotta thank em You do it cause you love it like nothing else for loving me from moment I was strapped in in the universe and fuck it, it's embedded in a Volvo car seat your DNA When I needed a pep talk I couldn’t remember to wreck shop writer’s block, staring at my laptop desktop or sleeping in my rental in a turnpike rest stop

C A m F/C C

INTRO

3 Guitar j j j 4 . œ ≈ ≈ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ œ œ ≈ ≈ œ ‰ œ ‰ ≈ r & 4 . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

1 1 1 1 1 1 Guitar T 0 0 2 2 0 2 2 0 A . 2 2 2 2 0 3 3 2 0 2 0 3 3 3 3 0 3 3 3 3 3 0 B 3 5 5 3 .

F/C A m F C/E D m7 C

j Gtr. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . & œ ≈ ≈ œ ‰ œ Ó œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ ‰ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 Gtr. 2 2 2 2 0 0 0 0 3 3 2 3 2 0 2 2 . 3 3 0 3 3 3 3 5 5 3 .

C A m F C CHORUS

Vox. . Œ Œ ‰ ‰ ¿ ¿ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Eve - ry thing is a o kay 'Causeœ I'mœ strong as an O A œK an OAK!

F A m F C/E D m7 C

Vox. ‰ ≈ j Œ ¿ ‰ . & r œ œ œ œœ œ œ ≈ J . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ but mo - ney don't grow on trees and I'm B R O K E BROKE!

C A m F C F A m F C/E D m7 C

VERSE 1. 4x then chorus 2. 4x then bridge Vox. . . & [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

BRIDGE C A m F C F A m F C/E D m7 C C A m

3 3 3 3 3 Vox. Œ Œ ‰ ≈ ‰ Œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ r œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Eveœ - ry thing's A O Eveœ - ry thing's A œO Soœ whenœ I say day O youœ sayœ eve - ry thing's A œO Whenœ I say day O

Everything is A-OK Verse 2 Because I'm strong as an O-A-K (Oak!) Why should I sit on my ass on the couch and But money don't grow on trees (nope) be asking why life isn't equal? And I'm B-R-O-K-E (Broke!) with lesser possessions I'm light as a feather and so I can fly like an eagle Verse 1 Cause everyone dies and I wonder why Them rims them rings them things, you can leaders in power would lie to their people bring em out be planning like they could be fitting a Cam- I just had my debit card declined at In N Out el up into the eye of a needle The line is flipping out, giving me evil eyes but dammit I'd settle for fitting a 94 Camry Fuck the soda, re-run it with just the cheesy inside of my driveway fries I'm sick of the image I'm living my life and cause I don't think money is THE devil I’m doing it my way I'm not sinking, I'm just kicking it at sea level I'd rather be making the choices I'm proud of I got my floaties on than chasing mountain of money I'm focusing on all the wonderful stuff with But if that mountain comes to me, I'm climb- the force of Obi Wan ing it Kenobi bro, I'm broke although I won't be Got a brick and I'm laying it down woebegone got a shovel, I'm breaking this ground Cause even though my bank account is low because I'm in red, but it's only a color that I or overdrawn will be painting this town I'm down to mow yer lawn Because when I make it then I dedicate it to I'm getting open I'm soaking up every mo- the friends I stayed with who would do me ment and so we should make a toast we favors even lend me paper when I couldn't won't be sober til the BROKE of dawn pay for a little takeout Because beer is cheap/ and because love is And to the fact free that whatever you think that it means I'm buzzin feeling like every friend is a cous- I be here and I'm living my dreams in, G And someday we'll be reminiscing on And it's cause of the people I leaned on some wasn't we when I came apart at the seams Just so down and out So gimme the moon But we were happy then ‘cause… And gimme the spoon I'm licking it clean Until there just ain't nothing left But who would lend a hand cause…

Bridge: Everything’s A-O/ Everything’s A-O/ So when I say Day-O/ You say Every- thing’s A-O MORAL OF THE STORY Music by Miles Douglas & Max Miller-Loran Lyrics by George Watsky

Ebmin B CHORUS

Vocals bb b b 4 . ∑ ∑ Œ œ œ . & b b 4 . Ó œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . And the mo - ral of the sto - ry is b & b bbbb 4 . . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Piano œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. . œ. œ œ œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. ? b b 4 . ˙. œ œ œ . b b bb 4 . Œ Œ œ ‰ œ ‰ w w . ˙. œ œ œ w w

Ebmin B and the mo - ral of the sto - ry is b & b bbbb Œ ¿ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿œ ¿œ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿œ WORK! 'Til your arms fall off til your abs get hard and your bone's all soft just

Ebmin B

and the mo - ral of the sto - ry is b & b bbbb Œ ¿ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿œ ¿œ ¿ ¿ ¿ œ WORK! 'Til your hands go numb and they cramp and the fans in the stands go dumb

Ebmin Gb/Db B VERSES

bb b b . . & b b . [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

8x then chorus b b & b b bb . œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Pno. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ. œ ...... ? b . w . b bbbb . w w w .

Cardboard Castles ©2013 George Watsky All Rights Administered by Kobalt Music Group (ASCAP) All Rights Reserved THE MORAL OF THE STORY (based on ‘Ready or Not Here I Come’ by the Delfonics Chorus: Verse 2: And the moral of the story is Work until I’m black and yellow black and And the moral of the story is (Work!) yellow, worker bee till your arms fall off I just work until I’m black and blue and bur- till your abs get hard and your bone’s all gundy soft (Just WORK!) Burgundy, work until I earn that rich mahog- till your hands go numb any and they cramp and the fans in the stands honestly, can’t you tell I’m working, bitch and the go dumb don’t bother me show some modesty, if you’re watching me Verse 1: a bitch is anybody in my way it’s not misog- I write till my fingers look like a bouquet of yny roses But if yer blockin me I will soon defeat you you gotta bring yourself your flowers now in I will build a bridge above you, or I’ll tunnel show biz underneath you focus it’s Quiet Coyote come on let’s go kids I will eat you and excrete you and I’ll feed everybody get together with a study buddy you to the flowers and then talk about then fuck that I don’t If I need to I’ll go through you and absorb give your fucking powers Because it’s so big and explosive I put in hour after hour let’s be crystal clear but a lotta people don’t live, they don’t ever I’m gonna get there if it takes a day or fifty get a motive years if you got a goal you gotta hold onto it that I’ll fingerbang my fears, I’ll fucking punch a what hope is dragon If I didn’t have it I would ask you where the Even with the Himalayas in my way it’s gon- rope is na happen work is my church and so the studio’s the Cause waiting doesn’t work, and praying closest may not come through I spit it sick until my cootie flow’s the grossest And hoping doesn’t work. So I will be the don’t be so pissed just be focused on your one to (work) own shit cause we Supercalifornialisticsexyandwe- Outro (repeat): knowsit And maybe someday you might see me in a you’re not my biness, I go for number one, glossy photo not a top five finish No weirdo’s rocked the bells as hard as me you can have a chicken pot pie since Quasimodo but I’m thinking that I’m gonna have another can of Popeye’s spinach I’m Rottweiler, pop my collar when I pop my fur you’re on my nerves, but mark my words gotta put a leg up and then mark my turf UGLY FACES Music by Max Miller-Loran & Miles Douglas Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO CHORUS

4x 3x Vocals % 4 . ∑ ∑ . . . & 4 [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’’ ’’’’ ’’’’

4 œ #œ #œ #œ #œ œ & 4 . ∑ ∑ . . œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ . ∑ ∑ Piano œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ? 4 . œ œ#œ œ #œ#œ œ œ . . œ œ #œ œ #œ#œ œ œ . ∑ ∑

VERSE 1 & 2

Vox. & . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

4x 4x œ œ œ œ . #œ œ #œ œ #œ #œ Œ . . #œ œ #œ œ #œ #œ Œ . & . ‰ J ‰ J œ . . ‰ J ‰ J œ ‰ . Pno. . . . œ œ œ. ? . ∑ ∑ . . ‰ #œ. ‰ ‰ nœ ‰ #œ ‰ . ‰ ‰ ‰ . œ. œ.

PRE-CHORUS D.S. Vox. 2 & Ó ‘ ‘ ‘ « Ó ¿ ¿ Œ Ó ‰ Sor¿ -ry¿ not¿ sor¿ - ry¿ Sor-ry! Not¿ sor¿ -ry.¿ 2 & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ « ∑ ∑ Pno. œ œ 2 ? j#œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ Œ ‰ œ œ #œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ « œ œ J ‰ Œ ∑

FINAL CHORUS

Vox. 2 2 & ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ « « 2 2 œ #œ #œ #œ #œ œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ « « Pno. 2 2 ? œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ #œ #œ œ œ « «

Hook: Verse 2: Back in the day Everybody been in it to win it kickin in for a Daddy would say minute and chilling but you’re tardy it’s why That if I kept on making ugly faces and I I gotta kill it and then hit the pretty people wasn’t careful it’d stay that way building with my party trick, I Oh great! Wow, no shit think I’m gonna walk out of the door, hop in Ooh, hooray, that’s so sick! [Oooh! Ack! my DeLorean and I’m gonna soar Brrrr] cept that it’s a subaru, and I’m yelling hood- With a little bit of luck maybe one of those ie hoo! sticks hanging out the window like I’m Marty Mc- Fly Verse 1: a lot of the chickens in the flock wanna I’ll be feeling a hella of a lot of swell from squawk and they get obnoxious the second that I step in I’ll be smelling like a and all I hear is bawk bawk big cheese And I’m not got wanna talk shop Everybody better be ready to get it get it better put a sock in it if you gotta cock block cause I’m getting nekkid if you really want a and be toxic and knock us and all we wanna strip tease do is rock rock and be raucous and the babies in their highchairs taking off I’m not gonna ever stop if you think I’m their bibs and their mommies all be ripping chopped liver in the crock pot cause I am a out their wig weaves boss hog and I want the top spot and I got And the pretty people in the oil paintings this on the wall are popping molly and they’re stripping off their fig leaves better burn your clothes it’ll curl your toes Kissing women and they turn to toads I’m pimping Kermit’s hoes And I’m sure that every girl is a pearl and the world is a perfect globe But when I’m joking around with my little cousin and he pulls my finger then the moth- erfuckin earth explodes Boom.

Chorus: Sorry, not sorry (x7) KILL A HIPSTER Music by Daniel Riera & Dominic Villeda ft. Chinaka Hodge Lyrics by George Watsky & Chinaka Hodge

A min A min E aug INTRO

Vocals & 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ œ. œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ & 4 œ. œ œ ≈ ‰ Ó ∑ œ. œ œ ≈ ‰ Ó Ó ‰ #œ ≈ ≈ œ ‰ Piano R R R R ? 4 r≈ ‰ ‰ j Œ ≈ ≈ Œ ≈ r≈ ‰ ‰ j Œ ≈ ≈ Œ ‰ j 4 œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ.

Guitar 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ & 4 ≈ œ œ œ ≈ ≈ œ œ œ ≈ ‘ ‘ ‘

Guitar 5 5 5 5 5 5 T 5 5 5 5 A 7 7 B ‘ ‘ ‘

A min G F E

Vox. & ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ . . . œ. œ œ œ. œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ & œ. œ œ ≈ ‰ Ó ∑ œ. œ œ ≈ ‰ Ó œ. œ œ ≈ œ ≈ ≈ œ œ ≈#œ ≈ ‰ Pno. R R R ? r≈ ‰ ‰ j Œ ≈ ≈ Œ ‰ j r≈ ‰ Ó ≈ ≈ ≈ r ≈ ‰ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ. œ œ œ. œ œ ≈ œ œ œ œ

Gtr. & ‘ ‘ ‘ ∑

Gtr. ‘ ‘ ‘

A min A min E aug CHORUS

to Bridge after 3rd Chorus Vox. j j r j & ‰ ¿ ¿ ≈ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ Rent's up Star - bucks where the skate - rink stood It's a ﬁx - ture it does no good SAVE YOUR HOOD! That shit's no good It's a ﬁx - ture I know Kill a hip - ster

A min G F E

end after 4rd Chorus Vox. j j & ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ‰ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ Wrote con-gress It did no good Read scrip-ture It did no good You could take a pic - ture or knock on wood Fuck that Kill a hip - ster SAVE YOUR HOOD!

Cardboard Castles ©2013 George Watsky All Rights Administered by Kobalt Music Group (ASCAP) All Rights Reserved KILL A HIPSTER ft. Chinaka Hodge Chorus: Verse 2 (Chinaka) Rent’s up (That shit’s no good) Pencil to the neck, razor to your innertube Starbucks where the skate rink stood Bullet to your disrespect, I hate your hipster It’s a fixture (it does no good) attitude (I know) kill a hipster (Save your hood!) Your whole chassez, acting like you own us Wrote congress (it did no good) with your whole passé Read scripture (it did no good) Dance around the issue patna, no plié You could take a picture or knock on wood But you’ll get broke for that French shit, so (fuck that) cassé kill a hipster (Save your hood!) And you can put that in your lit mag and your Tumblr blog Verse 1: Eat it with the bacon off your farm fresh hog I’m getting Hummus, hummus Sip it like Kombucha, hope your last meal I’m getting Hummus, hummus suit ya I’m at the park playing dodgeball Do-gooder types, commuters on bikes Drinking San Pellegrino like it’s crystal Brooding 20-somethings with the coolest of Yeah, I like fancy alcohol “likes” Living no rules—Calvinball You be loving on my city like johns You wanna brawl? Ho please Rubbing on her titties leaving money in I sprinkle you with some goat cheese palms I get it straight from the fuckin farm Our rumbling guts can only hunger so much I even put goat cheese in my lucky charms Plus we redundantly blunted in lieu of giving I’m at the taco truck looking like a mack a fuck I roll my Rs hard like I’m busting off a gat We’ll cut you for the scratch It’s like, “hola mama, I’m your papa” Leave in on a tee May I please have dos Horrrrrrrrrchatas? And if we’ve done it properly you’re cop- I’m like brap brap brap! ping it from Treat, cause When I smack your ass fast with my back- pack strap Verse 3 (George): It’s clear I’ve become one of em Kill me please if I’m one of em I walk the block like I’m hot shit I gentrified the corner store just buying hot chips But now I’m caught red-handed With this land so make me a dead bandit And if you see me sipping at an open keg Put me down like a horse with a broken leg HEY ASSHOLE Music by Aaron Carmack ft. Kate Nash Lyrics by George Watsky

Maj7 min min7 add2 CHORUS F F D D Bb F ( 6fr.)

Vocals 4 j j j j & b 4 œ œ œ Ó Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Ó Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ Œ œ œ œ. œ œ Hey ass - hole See the sun is shi - ning But you are not smi - ling And I don't know whyœ

& b 4 Œ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ Piano w ww w w w w 4 w w w ww ww w ? b 4 Œ

C(add4) F F Maj7 D min

Vox. j j j & b œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ. Ó Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Ó œ And I don't know why And I don't know why 'Cause the sun is shi - ning I'm an ass - hole ˙. œ œ ˙. œ œ & b ∑ ∑ w Pno. ww ww w ww w w w w w w ? b

D min7 Bb add2 F C(add4) ( 6fr.)

Vox. j j j & b Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ Ó Œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ But I am not smi - ling And I don't knowœ œ whyœ œ And I don't know why And I don't know why

œ œ ˙. œ œ ˙. œ w œ & b Œ Œ ‰ J œ Œ Ó Pno. w w w ww ww ww ww w w w ? b

HOOK F F Maj7 D min D min7

Vox. b ‰ ‰ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ I know I'm oft - en told That there's a pot of gold But I don't see no fuck - ing rain - bow and my cof - fee's cold

Bb add2 F C(add4) ( 6fr.)

Vox. b ‰ ‰ ‰ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ I know I should be grate - ful I know I'm good and a - ble But I don't have the strength to get up from the kitch - en ta - ble

Chorus (Kate) Give it to me straight, 151 proof Hey, asshole Telling myself it’ll happen when I’m happy but See the sun is shining I’m climbing up a ladder that has got no end But you are not smiling Hung up on a rung I’ll never make it to the top, And I don’t know why, and I don’t know why, I’m looking at the bottom and I must descend and I don’t know why All I want to do is buck this trend I’m an asshole Everybody need a buck to spend Cause the sun is shining And I’ll be working on myself, til I work on some- But I am not smiling one else, And I don’t know why, and I don’t know why, til I get there Ima just pretend and I don’t know why Verse 2: Hook: When I’m in a crisis I know I’m often told In a moment of silence That there’s a pot of gold I look under my eyelids But I don’t see no fucking rainbow and my cof- And I’m checking my mileage fee’s cold I know I should be grateful I been using a pool of water as a mirror but I know I’m good and able not for style it’s But I don’t have the strength to get up from the So I can reach in and pimpslap my reflection kitchen table for acting childish This kind of shot comes once Spent a half an hour Another opportunity of a lifetime just slipped sitting at the bottom of my shower away letting the water run over my body and dam- And that’s the fifth this month mit I wanted to get up but I didn’t have the but when you take a punch power Don’t you ever forget I don’t have the answer anyway (yay yay Why you get up and you put one foot in front of yay) the next Don’t want to panic but I gotta come clean Verse 1: because the plan of the planet is just mean Got the power of my will Knew if was tough, but dammit it’s obscene I don’t wanna to win a mil I been huffing and puffing up to the top But I’m looking at window sill of the summit and I’ma rough it if I have Gotta take a bitter pill enough steam Gonna pay for what I did to my head and my I’ll keep on coming and coming until I’m heart’ll foot the bill coming with the stamina of a salmon who’s Got a foot in my mouth and because I’m kicking heading upstream myself I developed a habit of knocking out my front tooth Nah nah nah nah nah Looking uncouth want to hear the truth ALL I NEED IS ONE Music by Miles Douglas & Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO œ œ œ œ œ 2 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & b 4 « Piano 2 4 œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ œ œ œ ≈ œ œ ? b 4 ≈ ≈ ≈ ≈ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ ≈ «

CHORUS D min E m7 b5 C#dim7 D min E m7 b5 ( ) 3fr. ( )

Vox. b ‰ j ‰ j œ ≈ œ ≈ œ ≈ œ ‰ j ‰ j & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ R R œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ One tape in the deck One way to con-nect All I need is one One mo-ment a -lone One rea -son to roam and one place I call home

Gtr. & b œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ

Gtr. 5 ¿ ¿ 5 ¿ 5 0 8 7 ¿ ¿ 7 ¿ 7 0 8 10 ¿ ¿ 10 ¿ 10 0 13 12 ¿ ¿ 12 ¿ 12 0 3 5 ¿ ¿ 5 ¿ 5 0 8 7 ¿ ¿ 7 ¿ 7 0 8

C#dim7 D min E m7 b5 C#dim7 D min 3fr. ( ) 3fr.

Vox. & b œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ ‰ j ‰ j ‰ j œ ≈ œ ≈ œ œ ≈ œ ‰ j AllR RI need is one Oneœ tickœ onœ theœ clockœ Oneœ trickœ upœ myœ sleeveœ Oneœ thingœ toœ beœ -lieveœ All I need is one Oneœ perœ -sonœ toœ œlove

Gtr. œ & b œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ

Gtr. 10 12 5 10 ¿ ¿ 10 ¿ 10 0 13 12 ¿ ¿ 12 ¿ 12 0 ¿ ¿ 5 ¿ 5 0 8 7 ¿ ¿ 7 ¿ 7 0 8 10 ¿ ¿ 10 ¿ 10 0 13 12 ¿ ¿ 12 ¿ 8 7

E m7 b5 C#dim7 D min ( ) 3fr.

Vox. b œ ≈ œ ≈ ≈ ≈ œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ One verse and one payer for one per - son who cares All I need is one So put one hand in the air

Gtr. & b œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ œ ¿ œ œ œ œ

Gtr. 10 5 ¿ ¿ 5 ¿ 5 0 8 7 ¿ ¿ 7 ¿ 7 0 8 10 ¿ ¿ 10 ¿ 10 0 13 12 ¿ ¿ 12 ¿ 12 0

Chorus: Verse 2: One tape in my deck For beautiful babies in Vegas down to their One way to connect (all I need is one) last chip One moment alone For all my ninth life kittens hittin catnip One reason to roam for heavy drinkers thinking they were never One place I call home (all I need is one) jack shit One tick on the clock You’re thinking that’s it, but hit a backflip One trick up my sleeve You got a cracked rib or, maybe a bad liver one thing to believe (all I need is one) you got a bad hip or even a bad temper One person to love but if it’s last supper, one legged mad leper One verse and one prayer put on that glass slipper, you ain’t no half For one person who cares (all I need is one) stepper So put one hand in the air this ain’t no last breath, it’s only one col- lapsed lung Verse 1: we’re holding up the bank with nothing but a It used to be I’d get afraid and I’d drive cap gun Going forward’s always been the only place down to your last blank I can hide down to my last drop With no direction I would speed a hundred up in the gas tank miles down the coast until I lose the ghost we better have fun that’s chasing me but never arrive time isn’t a sacred cow and I’m willing to I know night’s scary, but we’re alive and the take it down to the final minute and second, pipe’s cherry milking my last one and I’ve got a stack of papers like a library Going up for a take and I’m itching for ac- I’m driving seeking a beacon of light freak- tion ishly all I needed was a speaker that might speak All I need is one to me I should remind myself that but my CD system is so janky a cone dangles All I need is one And it dances on its chord like it’s Bo Jan- gles You can work it if you hold it at the low angle But when the bass hits it grows tangled Come on right speaker! I’ll take everything you give me But don’t pity me, there’s people living on a single kidney In my shitty car I’m living large and mashing through my city sitting pretty I know That I’m ready to go TINY GLOWING SCREENS PT. 1 Music by Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

E G Maj6 F#7(add4) 2fr. INTRO 2 Guitar # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 4 #œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ #œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ « œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 Guitar 0 0 0 0 5 5 5 5 5 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 T 1 1 1 1 4 4 4 4 4 4 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 A 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 « B 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

E G Maj6 F#7(add4) A add2 2fr. ( 3fr.)

Gtr. # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ #œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ n#œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 Gtr. 0 0 0 0 5 5 5 5 5 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 4 4 4 4 4 4 3 3 3 3 3 3 6 6 6 6 6 6 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 7 7 7 7 7 7 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 7 7 7 7 7 7 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

E G Maj6 F#7(add4) 2fr.

Gtr. # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ œœ #œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ # œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 Gtr. 0 0 0 0 5 5 5 5 5 5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 4 4 4 4 4 4 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 2 2 2 2 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

CHORUS E G Maj6 F#7(add4) E G Maj6 F#7(add4) 2fr. 2fr.

Vox. # Œ Œ & Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ When the sun burnns out we'll light the world with ti - ny glow - ing screens Ti - ny glowing screens glow-ing screens

E G Maj6 F#7(add4) A add2 E G Maj6 F#7(add4) 2fr. ( 3fr.) 2fr.

Vox. # & Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. Œ When the sun burns out we'll light the world with ti - ny glow - ing screens Ti - ny glow - ing screens

VERSE E G Maj6 F#7(add4) E G Maj6 F#7(add4) A add2 E G Maj6 F#7(add4) 2fr. 2fr. ( 3fr.) 2fr.

2 repeat, then to Chorus Vox. # . . & . ’[RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ « ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Chorus: Verse 2: And when the sun burns out/ There was a time before the pot really got We’ll light the world with tiny glowing screens strong Tiny glowing screens, glowing screens Before the hippies got jobs talking long long And when the sun burns out Before the people talked in English out in We’ll light the world with tiny glowing screens Hong Kong Tiny glowing screens, glowing screens Before the holy Dalai Lama had a dot com Before God’s dad got in on with God’s Verse 1: mom I’ve seen a person go to shows and raise lighter before he made us pretty things on which to app drop bombs But if you’re at my concert please don’t ever try Before the war crimes that crap the rich and poor times Let’s set fire to the heavens I’m talking in the land before The Land Be- Turn the muh’fucking speakers to 11, this is fore Time Spinal Tap but then the planet lost its baby fat and got The future might defeat me, the internet can eat crazy me and we’ve acting like some fraidycats a lot it really tastes like chicken when I bite the hand lately that feeds me Something’ll kill us like cigarettes or the And I say me me, me me, play my CD, CD commies maybe Yes indeedy deedy or maybe AIDS or scabies, rabies or zom- we be greedy and it’s tragic that we yawn bie babies we got every gadget but don’t care there’s Even the KGB, pray we be free from ADD, magic in our palm wade in and bathe in Hades Cause it’s been getting so hot, I can feel the no army or Navy’s saving me slow rot And I can’t tell our little victories from epic But let’s not die before we get to fuck a robot fails Because we all need something to live for It’s either heaven or hell and I can’t make something to live for heads or tails

Bridge (repeat): Are we useless? No excuses We took the piece sign, reduced it to deuces TINY GLOWING SCREENS PT. 2 Music by Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

E min C B min E min A min C D

Vocals # 4 . 3 4 . & 4 [SPOKEN’ ’ WORD]’ ’ 4 ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ 4 ’ ’ ’ ’

# 4 . 3 4 . & 4 ˙ ˙ 4 ˙. ˙ œ . 4 . œ œ Piano œ ˙. ˙. ˙ ? # 4 . ˙ ˙ 3 ˙. ˙ œ ˙ 4 ˙. œ œ . 4 . ˙ 4 ˙. ˙ ˙. 4 ˙. œ œ . There's 7 billion 46 million people on the planet/ and most You wouldn’t respect me if you heard the typewriter chatter of us have the audacity to think we matter tap tap tapping through my mind at night Hey you hear the one about the comedian who croaked? the same stupid tape loop of old sitcom dialogue and tat- someone stabbed him in the heart, just a little poke tered memories of a girl I got to grind on in high school but he keeled over cause he went into battle wearing chain filed carefully on rice paper mail made of jokes my heart is a colored pencil Hey, you hear the one about the screenwriter who passed but my brain is an eraser away? He was giving elevator pitches and the elevator got stuck I don't want a real girl, I want to trace her from a cata- halfway logue He ended up eating smushed sandwiches they pushed Truth be told I’m unlikely to hold you down through a crack in the door cause my soul is a crowded subway train and people keep and repeating the same crappy screenplay idea about deciding to get on the next one that rolls through town talking dogs til his last day I'm joining a false movement in San Francisco Hey, you hear the one about the fisherman who passed? I'm frowning and hunched over in Boston He didn't jump off that ledge I'm smiling in Los Angeles like I've got fishhooks in the he just stepped out into the air and pulled the ground up corners of my mouth towards him really fast and I’m celebrating on weekends Like he was pitching a line and went fishing for concrete because there are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet the earth is a drum he's hitting it on beat and I have the audacity to think I matter The reason there's smog in Los Angeles is cause if we could I know it's a lie but I prefer it to the alternative see the stars Because I've got a tunicate tied at my elbow if we could see the context of the universe in which we I've got a blunt wrap filled with compliments and I’m burnin exist it and we could see how small each one of us is you say to go to sleep but I been bouncing off my bed- against the vastness of what we don't know room walls since I was hecka small no one who ever audition for a McDonalds commercial we're every age at once and tucked inside ourselves like again Russian nesting dolls and then where would we be? my mother is an 8 year old girl no frozen dinners and no TV my grandson is a 74 year old retiree whose kidneys just and is that a world we want to text in? failed Either someone just microwaved popcorn and that's the glue between me and you or I hear the sound a thousand people pulling their heads that's the screws and nails out of their asses in rapid succession we live in a house made of each other The people are hunched over in Boston and if that sounds strange that's because it is They're starting ap stores and screen printing companies in Will someone please freeze time so I can run around turn- San Francisco ing everyone's pockets inside out? they're grinning in Los Angeles like they've got fishhooks in And remember, you didn't see shit the corners of their mouth but don't paint me like the good guy cause every time I write I get to choose the angle that you view me and select the nicest light

F#min A D INTRO w ? # # w w w # 4 Piano ? # # 4 # 4 w w w w w

min VERSE 1 F# A D C#min 4fr.

Vox. # # & # . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

# œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ ‰ œ ? ## . ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ . Pno. ? # # # . ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ œ ‰ ‰ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ

HOOK F#min A D C#min 4fr. % Vox. # # & # Ó ¿ ¿ ¿ Ó ¿ ¿ ¿ Ó ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ Cold piz - za Tie - dye shirts Bro - ken hearts Give 'em here Give 'em here

F#min A D C#min 4fr.

Vox. # # # Ó & ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ œ œ œ œ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ ¿ Hand - me-downs gimœ - meœ gimœ - meœ Left - o - vers gim - me gim - me Slop - py se - conds Give 'em here Give 'em here

CHORUS 1 & 2 F#min A D C#min 4fr.

Vox. # # # . Œ ‰ œ œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ & . J œ J œ J œ œ J J J I don't care where you've been how ma - ny miles I still love

F#min A D C#min 4fr.

(repeat 2nd Chorus only) Vox. # ## j ‰ ‰ œ œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ . & œ J œ J œ J œ œ J J J . you I don't care where you've been how ma - ny miles I still love

Verse 1: Verse 3: Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job My pattern with women isn’t a flattering image love you if you love a car for the road trips but I don’t want to run away because I said so show me the miles on your arms and the pink scar I don’t want to be the guys to hide all of my where your doctor had to pull out all the bone chips flaws and I’ll be giving you the side of me that I cause you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard don’t let show Right in the moment when the road curved a bit everything in fashion that has ever happened’s sharp always coming crashing down, better let go and when you woke up somebody was unclipping but in a couple years it will be retro your seatbelt and pulling you from the open win- You rocked Mark echo dow of your flipped car My shirts had the gecko cause in the past man, I was hopeless Hook: but now it’s why my little cousins look the dopest Cold Pizza Woop woop fuck the fashion po-po Tie-Die shirts have a stale donut, I don’t need no tips Broken Hearts (Give em here) Fuck a five second rule, that’s a plan i never Handmedowns understood Leftovers it’s September in my kitchen in a Christmas Sloppy Seconds (Give em here) sweater drinking cold coffee on the phone with damaged goods Chorus: I don’t care Bridge: where you’ve been And there is not a single place that I would How many miles rather be I still love you I’m fucked up just like you are and you’re fucked up just like me Verse 2: Show me someone who says they’ve got no bag- gage I’ll show you somebody who’s got no story nothing gory means no glory So baby please don’t bore me we won’t know until we get there the who, or the what, or the when, where my favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago and I promise that I will rock it til it’s threadbare, bet on it every single person’s got a couple skeletons so pretty soon in this room it’ll just be me and you when we clear out all the elephants me and you and the elements we all have our pitfalls the beer is flat, the cabs have been called and everybody and their mama can hear the drama that’s happening behind these thin walls DEDICATED TO CHRISTINA LI Music by Miles Douglas Lyrics by George Watsky

Ebmin7 Abmin7 Db Gb6 4fr. INTRO Solo Guitar b & b bbbb 4 ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

A min7 D G 6 E min7 b b b b 4fr.

œ Gtr. œ œ œ. ˙ œ œ r b b b œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ . & b b b œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ ˙ Solo œ 4 6 4 Gtr. 7 4 6 2 6 4 6 6 3 13 9 8 4 6 6 1 6 4 4 4 2

E min7 A min7 D G 6 b b b b 1. 4x then to Chorus 4fr. VERSE 2. 4x then to Chorus 3. 4x then to Bridge Vox bb b b . . & b b . ’[RAP] ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Ebmin7 Abmin7 Db Gb6 CHORUS 4fr.

Vox bb b b & b b [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

E min7 A min7 D G 6 b b b b 1. to Verse 4fr. 2. to Verse

Vox b b j & b b bb œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ ‰ This one goes out to Chris - ti - na Said this one goes out to Chris - ti - na Said this one goes out to

Ebmin7 Abmin7 Db Gb6 4fr. BRIDGE 4x Vox bb b b . j . & b b . œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ Œ Œ ‰ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ. œ Œ Ó . This one goes out to Chris - ti - na Said this one goes out to Chris - ti - na

Palm mute œ œ œ œ Gtr. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ bb b b . œ œ œ œ œœ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . & b b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Palm mute 7 7 6 6 Gtr. 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 3 . 8 8 8 8 9 9 8 8 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 . . 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 4 . Ebmin7 Abmin7 Db Gb6 4fr. OUTRO Solo loop and fade out Gtr. b & b bbbb . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Verse 1: She was born with a heart defect, used to the The first time I went back to homeroom from the cold knife hospital She’d been in and out of hospitals her whole life I thought that being more embarrassed was impos- She knew the whole time, and never said why sible She felt my pain herself and helped my hold my But God, the second time it really turned my stom- head high ach The nicest folks are those who know the throes Now I’m the kid who collapses and then spazzes of crisis out in public though I know it’s crime to twist her life to fit my This time was in a bowling alley, the first was in the own devices yard Why’s it so hard to mourn, and then try to learn And kids in middle school just watched me trip and by this kicked me hard But lights that burn shortest Except this girl named Crissie Li, who flips around Are the lights that burn brightest at her desk and gives me the world’s biggest Disney Card Verse 3: Wrote “best wishes,” and “kisses” where she signed Our 8th grade yearbook page for dedicating it songs wasn’t long, even in a school eleven hun- 3 feet by 2 feet, I coulda hid behind it dred strong I didn’t like the pity from Christina Li though The yearbook advertised for months, but when I’m thinking “Crissie, can’t you see I’m busy being it’s said and done emo?” Crissie bought six, the third most of anyone Cause I think I mighta like heard that she sorta liked Alvin got “Your Faith in Me” by Jessica Simpson me Pebbles got Richard Marx’s ballad “At the And since she wasn’t cool enough I guess I took it Beginning” lightly It feels like sloppy poetry the way her life would had braces and glasses and wasn’t Mrs. Popular end And so I didn’t really give a thought to her after sending Mariah Carrey’s “Any Time You Need a Friend” Chorus (x2): but corniness is honesty that’s wrapped in cliché A heart breaking sounds like guitar strings snapping And most slow jam lyrics aren’t shit I’m brave It’s the notes of the songs that’ll never happen enough to say without a smirk and the wind in the leaves is the sound of ghosts But before she went to dirt she left us finally clapping “I will remember you” to Geoff, Mike, Bry and But a heart breaking sounds like guitar strings snap- me ping You can plot if you must say it’s obviously fate, or explain that God is Verse 2: just There’s holes in my memory- it isn’t photographic But all I know is that until my body’s dust There’s holes in my yearbook but the cut-out folks I will try to think of her as much as Crissie were plastic thought of us/ Ten years pass, I don’t cross paths with half the people from my class again till we meet at Crissie’s Outro: open casket This one goes out to Christina those who chose to ask it probably knew I could have dug in deeper if I’d wanted to But you couldn’t tell a thing was off on the surface And I didn’t know she was sick until I heard about her service THE LEGEND OF HARDHEAD NED Music by Daniel Riera ft. Dylan Saunders Lyrics by George Watsky

A min E min A min E min INTRO

Vocals 4 . . & 4 . [NARRATION]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . œ 2 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. & 4 . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. « . Piano 2 4 . œ œ . & 4 . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. « .

VERSE 1 A min E min A min E min D m9 E min7 D m9 E min7 3fr. 3fr.

Vox. . . & . [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’’’ ’’’’ ’’’’. ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’’’’ ’ ’ ’ ’ j 2 œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ. j œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. ˙ Œ œ w ˙. J w œ & . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ˙. « . ˙ œ ˙. ‰ Pno. 2 ? . œ œ œ œ œ œ . . ˙ Ó w ˙. Œ w & œ œ œ œ œœ˙ « ˙ w ˙. w

G 9sus4 A 9sus4 D m9 E min7 A min E min A min E min 3fr. 5fr. 3fr.

Vox. & ’’’’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’’’’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’’’ ’’’’ ’’’’. j œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. j 2 ˙. w ˙. w œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. & ˙. ‰ J w ˙. ‰ J w . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœ˙. « . Pno. 2 ? ˙. w . œ ?. Œ w ˙. Œ w & . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙. « . ˙. ˙. w œ œ œ

A min7 D/A F/A G 9sus4 D min7 G BRIDGE 3fr.

Vox.

& [NARRATION]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’

œ #œ ˙. Œ œ œ œ Ó Œ ˙. w Œ œ Ó œ œ Ó & œ Ó œ #œ ˙. w œ œ œ Pno. œ œ ? œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œœœœ œ œœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œœœ œ

Narration: Verse 2: Once upon a time in a remote Tasmanian trailer park, Ned almost drowned. He kissed the ground there was born a baby boy by the name of Nedson But his Guts were churned up in this town Willbry. One day when Ned was a baby, his crackhead teen mum got real distracted watching Teen Mum on Where down was up and up was down the telly and dropped Ned right on his noggin. The little So the boy from Down Under flipped right bean stopped squirming, and his mum thought he was around surely done for. So mummy brought the tiny bundle to Ned did a cartwheel and stopped halfway the forest during a terrible storm and left him for dead in And he walked on his palms from that day a field of pumpkins… and wolves… But cityfolk treated Ned like a freak “That handwalking lumpheaded Yeti can’t Verse 1: speak” But just then lighting struck One night walking home Ned was quite and a cry cut through the night light like a siren on a fire shocked truck Ned survived by the slightest luck, he wasn’t a dead He saw a B-boy spinning on the sidewalk baby, Neddy was alive as fuck! He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop It was a miracle we’re hearing staring and those limbs, spinning like a wooden The creatures of the evening came creeping to the clear- top ing sweeter than puddin pop, Ned was home at last Too see this little man nugget And every night he’d watch em dance through soon to be immortalized in poetry just like the man from the glass Nantucket Of the club, and he’d wait there in line for his But as the little babe was grown chance they gave to him their home But the bouncer said, freak, you can’t dance! And raised him as their own He roamed and trapezed from the tallest trees He got his steez from the wallabies Narration: Oh But Ned, sweet Ned wouldn’t they all loved him get out of line. And the bouncer pushed him, but the Tasmanian Devils loved little Neddy more than all and pushed him. But to catch his balance, Ned, of em hardheaded, upside down Ned did what Ned They taught him how to spin like a fan did best. He just spun. And he spun. And he Till Ned spun himself into fine young man spun! But one day like a sick disease loggers crept in and chopped the eucalyptus trees (crowd shouting) Go Ned, go Ned, go, go, They smushed the cuddly forest creatures go Ned And turned em into body wash and sneakers (repeat) But Ned escaped and yelled angrily You abandoned me Narration: Everyone in the club came out you killed my family to watch what is now widely regarded as the But God dammit, I can’t use your pity greatest fucking head spin of all time. And leg- And he snuck onto a ship bound for New York City end has it Ned’s still out there on Bleaker Street on the curb, spinning to this very day. Narration: Ned’s voyage led him to the deepest, dark- est, dankest bowels of that ship. He met all kinds of seedy characters on that voyage, like old Japanese men… and their wives… He had meals of fresh cut sashimi, pumpkin pie, and all kinds of delicious breads and cookies and cakes. When he was on that voyage he knew what lied ahead, so he kept his sights set on New York City. And before he knew it, he’d arrived… CARDBOARD CASTLES Music by Kush Mody Lyrics by George Watsky

INTRO

Vocal 1 b j b bb 4 Ó ‰ j œ œ œ Œ œ œœ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ & b 4 œ œ œ œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. Out on the curb a - gain On the curb a - gain I've come to learn it's hardœ œ andœ œﬁrm œ out

Vocal 2 b & b bbb 4 ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

j Vox. 1 b b bb œ œ œ œ œ ≈ ‰ j œ. œ œ Œ œ. œ œ Œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . & b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ . œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ nœ œ œœ œ œ œœ. on the curb a - gain Out on the curb a - gain On the curb a-gain I've come to learn it's hard and ﬁrm out

Vox. 2 b & b bbb ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑

G D G D CHORUS b b b b

% Vox. 1 b b & b b b œœ œ œœ œœ œœ œ ≈ Ó ∑ ∑ on the curbœ œ œa - gainœ

3 Vox. 2 bbbb Ó ≈ ‰ ‰ & b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j œ œ œ œ œ j I'm in my room maœ -kingœ card - board caœ - stlesœ withœ shoe string ropeœ Soup spoon drawœ -bridgeœ tin - fo - il-moatœ

bbbb ∑ ‰ ≈ ‰ ≈ ‰ ≈ ‰ ≈ & b œ œ œ œ Pno. œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ? bb b ∑ œ ‰ ‰ ≈ œ œ ‰ ‰ ≈ œ œ ‰ ‰ ≈ œ œ ‰ ‰ ≈ œ b b œ R œ R œ R œ R

Bbmin F Gb Db

3 Vox. 2 bbbb ≈ ‰ & b œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ j I'm still dream - ing af - ter all these œyears œ œ. I'm in my room maœ -kingœ card - board caaœ -stlesœ withœ shoe - string ropeœ b & b bbb ‰ ≈ r ≈ ‰ ≈ r ≈ ‰ ≈ r œ ‰ ≈ r ≈ ‰ ≈ r ≈ ‰ ≈ r ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Pno. œ œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ? œ bb b œ œ œ ≈ ‰ ≈ œ œ œ ≈ ‰ ≈ œ œ ≈ Œ œ ≈ ‰ ≈ œ œ ≈ ‰ ≈ œ œ ≈ ‰ ≈ œ b b R œ R œ œ œ R œ œ R œ œ R

Chorus: Verse 2: Out on the curb again I know someday I’ll pass, and maybe then On the curb again rest I’ve come to learn it’s hard and firm I’m laying on my back. Heaven’s my bench Out on the curb again press Cause my imagination is crazy as Glen Beck Hook: A cloud is floating by in the shape of a rent I’m in my room making cardboard castles check with shoestring rope And when the world ends, that’s what I’ll Soup spoon drawbridge plan towards tinfoil moat Then I’ll trust girlfriends and maybe land- I’m still dreaming after all these years lords Cause I been played but I’m looking for Verse 1: more Because if we don’t build it who will? I say, what would I gain if took it to court I do things on a shoestring that you couldn’t do Cause if people were perfect then there for a cool mil wouldn’t be war I run with no laces, and when I fall I start we stay pushing but once we get a foot in to build my Taj Mahal with shit I found at Dol- the door larmart we get our toes chopped off and a foot of This life’s our greatest project. The journey’s all manure an art I still gotta believe people are good at the But I built my perfect nest, and it’s bout to fall core apart Cause if we weren’t, what’s at stake? Again and again and then I just I make it twice Why would we stay to break what we make as high And create all these beautiful mistakes And I give my tower teeth, and I watch it bite when they blow our house down let’s draw the sky on the walls, the walls, the walls Because I might just cry if I don’t keep it moving I focus on what I can make and not what just got ruined Cause every stone will crumble down to dust, to dust, to dust And I say love thy neighbor, and I say fuck thy hater There’ s nothing I can’t solve with duct tape and construction paper I don’t want a BandAid, I’ll only rip it off, I’ll rip it off SEND IN THE SUN Music by Daniel Joseph Lyrics by George Watsky

G Bb C G Bb C CHORUS

Vocals b 4 & b 4 nœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ. ˙ Œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ. œ Ó Send in that sun shine Make eve - ry - thing right

G Eb C G Bb C

Vox. œ ˙ œ bb nœ œ œ bœ j œ œ œ œ œ j Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ nœ œ ‰ œ Œ & œ œ œ. œ œ J J œ J œ œ Turn on your love light Cause ba - by I'm Com-ing on by Ohh Ohh

G Bb C G Bb C

Vox. b & b nœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ. ˙ Œ nœ œ œ œ œ œ bœ œ œ œ œ œ. œ Ó Send in that sun shine Make eve - ry - thing right

G Eb C G Bb C

Vox. b œ œ œ œ r & b nœ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Œ ‰ ≈ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ. œ Ó There ain't no suff - ering in life that don't ease with the the pas - sage of time

G min G min/F E m7 b5 C 7 G min G min/F E m7 b5 C 7 VERSE 3fr. 3fr. ( ) 3fr. 3fr. ( ) 4x to Chorus Vox. b & b . ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ . ’’’’ ’’’’

Chorus: Verse 2: Send in that sunshine Goodbye Maggie, Goodbye Jules Make everything right I wish you’d stuck around, you wise fools Turn on your love light cause friends they tend to come and go the Cause baby I’m coming on by way the ocean ebbs and flows but there’s Send in that sunshine reminders in the tide pools Make everything right But when the standing water’s putrid Cause there ain’t no suffering in life who am I to say a choice you made was that don’t ease with the passage of time stupid? But there’s a whole bunch of us who loved Verse 1: you fucking stuck here pointing fingers at If stars died of old age ourselves for something you did They wouldn’t explode, they’d burn out with a you you you you you packed your problems slow fade in a suitcase But stars escape life with a gun shot you you you went away forever to a new which makes me think they stick a pistol in their place sun spot you left behind a lot of blue faces and bou- bite the barrel, squeeze the trigger quets and loose ends like shoelaces but my might have cared once, but the obstacles seem friend, it’s too late bigger so all my lightweights and barflies, let’s And they’re stuck behind a giant 8 ball raise a pint each time a star dies the milky way is star brains smeared across the and toast the memory of hard lives/ filed on space wall the interstellar hard drives and archives You know the red giant in sector two? yeah, Hector, true, was a depressing dude I think he thought nobody thought about him And now that I think about it, I’m liable to guess it’s true Everybody wants the sun to come and cure their rough moods but suns need love too I give out energy and don’t receive. I’m tired now, I’ll go to sleep And when this is the coldest solstice, maybe folks’ll notice me DENT IN THE MOON Music by Kush Mody, Miles Douglas & Pat Dimitri Lyrics by George Watsky

D min7 G min7 BbMaj7 A 7 #9 ( )11fr. CHORUS

Vocals b 4 œ Œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ J œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Swing out of your shoes And if you should lose this time keep on swing - ing and swing - ing and

D min7 G min7 BbMaj7 A 7 #9 ( )11fr.

Vox. b œ Œ œ œ œ ‰ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Soon when you con - nect With all of your strength look up and you might see a dent in the moon

VERSE D min7 G min7 BbMaj7 A 7 #9 ( )11fr. 4x Vox. b . . & . [RAP]’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ ’ .

Chorus: Verse 2: Swing, out of your shoes We had our 6th grade baseball tryouts on And if you should lose this time the basketball courts so the fastball-- had Keep on swinging and swinging and soon hops When you connect we didn’t have a grass field and so coach With all of your strength hit us grounders off the asphalt-- I dropped Look up and you might see a dent in the moon a lot and so he hit em faster and I took em off my ankles yelling that’s all you got? Verse 1: and when I saw my name on the roster I Yeah, you see them craters? went insane like I was sniffing bath salts, i’m That was cause a kid said there’d be none not—here to play soft greater I’ll go beastmode on a piñata and bite it’s In ten years Hammering Hank was at the plate motherfucking face off launching balls into space saying see ya later! until it rains candy out of it’s neck-hole skinny as a toothpick but he got a nack I don’t go flexing my pecs, or get swole watch him swing a broomstick at a bottlecap I wasn’t the fastest watch him rinse and repeat til he’s on the map And when I moved it kinda looked like I was going from the cheap seats to the autographs running through molasses – true Papa put a bat in my hand and all he said was it’s silly to give a shit about a game but never ever rock a Dodger hat earth is a little ball that’s just spinning on its And whether you win or you didn’t you gotta axis – too be getting dirty and we better send your jersey to the Laundromat Verse 3: it was in the cards I wasn’t cut out for the bigs, guess I been a I knew someday I’d be a big league star fool playing second base for the giants wearing and middle school was just a bit of cruel number 9 ridicule rocking knee-high socks if I just worked hard but when you step into the ranks of the man it’s like they push you from the high dive to a kiddie pool (thanks) It’s time to ballroom waltz that plank We’re little minnows in a small shark tank You try to swim without getting blood in the water, but you’re all heart and guts like a ballpark frank Never an all star I had to keep score If I were perfect I would quit and join peace corp I’m not a hero, if I didn’t try my doubts eat at me like I’m a carcass on the sea floor (yeah) So say this shit is too corny it tastes better to me than, ‘ooh poor me’ I’m just trying to sing a different tune and then fit into a world that didn’t have room for me