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Green Is Good

by The Sharp Things

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  • Digital Album
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  • Limited Edition Compact Disc
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    EXTREMELY limited quantities available of this CD, the first album in our Dogs Of Bushwick series. This will be a collector's item!

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1.
Blame the bankers Don't blame yourselves You were trying to get by when the bottom fell And when the sky knew no limit You couldn’t lasso the Moon That dream was reserved for the chosen few. Blame the bankers You know it’s true Cos there’s no one on Earth who works harder than you Blame the bankers Making a killing On the miserable failure of Capitalism. Don’t try to fool yourself There’s a war going on Mr Have, Mr Never Will Don’t try to fool yourself When you can’t feed your kids You know it’s personal. Blame the bankers Don’t blame yourselves You were trying to get by when the bottom fell Powerless fathers swallow their pride While the grand illusion keeps the dream alive. Don’t try to fool yourself There’s a war going on Mr Have, Mr Never Will Don’t try to fool yourself When you can’t feed your kids You know it’s personal.
2.
The Piper 03:34
Piper wanders down the road Piper stops at a window box Pretty flowers in a row Summer, fall, then the driving snow While you’re sleeping Dearest boy Can you ever think of me? Now the morning Tries to remind me That this was meant to be C’est La vie. Piper walks into a church Piper stares at the sacristy How many sons will have to die Before he’s put out of his misery In your absence Specters loom And they still consume my nights When the morning Tries to find me I’ve vanished from its sight Such is life. While you’re sleeping Dearest boy Can you ever think of me? Now the morning Tries to remind me That this was meant to be C’est La vie.
3.
I got my own chanteuse She sings to me She sings me to sleep I got a great masseuse Her company provided for free I play for pay I’m living the dream I make the music and the music makes me. My eccentricities are all taken seriously My impresario is here to tend to all of my needs. The carpet rolls out ruby red The paparazzi turn their heads Chicka!! Here comes the maestro, baby Here comes the maestro, baby Here comes the maestro, baby Look out. The players break a sweat The room resounds, then silence I wave a big baton Three taps, we break into song The violins will fly like the wind The trumpets play The chorus will sing! Here comes the maestro, baby Here comes the maestro, baby Here comes the maestro, baby Look out.
4.
She keeps on talking, but I’m not at home My mind is reaching back to afternoon on Sunday Kissing, laughing, running ‘round your bed So sorry, haven’t listened to a word you said. C’mon baby, please pick up the phone I’m otherwise engaged and so are you, I take it. Heaven knows how far we’d go for love The Devil knows it, too He’s sitting on my shoulder… Flowers for my girl Diamonds, gold and pearls Can’t go on without you. Flowers for my girl Take me from this world It’ll turn without me… Life is easy in an easy chair An endless flow of TV shows And chips and beer Maybe I won’t ever reach the stars But out the door and down the street’s A brilliant start, now… Flowers for my girl Diamonds, gold and pearls Can’t go on without you. Flowers for my girl Take me from this world It’ll turn without me…
5.
And now for your listening pleasure…
6.
Lights 03:44
I am removed I am confused I am a Ladybird who sings the blues And if I had some sense I would pay the rent, I would… I am amused I am consumed I am a man, a man without a clue And if I had some sense I would pitch a tent, I would I would stop crying if I had a place to hang my head I would stop trying if I had a head to place my hat I’d stop reminding if I had a reason to forget I’d turn the lights on if I knew I wouldn’t fade to black I am devoid of the right to voice I am the boy, the boy who cried android And if I had a choice I would sing it, sing it I laid to rest my innocence I am the girl, the girl who kicked the nest And if I had a choice I would sing it, sing it I would stop crying if I had a place to hang my head I would stop trying if I had a head to place my hat I’d stop reminding if I had a reason to forget I’d turn the lights on if I knew I wouldn’t fade to black…
7.
Salad days in the pub Sleeping in the tub Won’t forget your face When you found me I know I couldn’t stay But I don’t wanna leave But you’re who puts the bitter in the sweet Goodbye to Golders Green Goodbye to everything Goodbye to my old scene Good riddance to Irene Riddance to Irene The girl was so unkind And you’re a friend of mine We had such good times Glad you made it… Could’ve gone on for years A thousand of my tears But I was so unhappy Had to face it… Goodbye to Golders Green Goodbye to everything Goodbye to my old scene Good riddance to Irene Riddance to Irene
8.
I can read, it ain’t right Don’t need a book It’s written on your face And I don’t know what I did wrong Haven’t got a clue I just feel your love wane You shift with the sands I know you’re gonna break my heart Oh, it’s all in the plan I know you’re gonna break my heart So, tell me, woman, Be a man. You’re getting on the clothes I wear And my attitude What happened to my lady Now you need a richer man There’s nothing I could do But watch you walk away from me… You shift with the sands I know you’re gonna break my heart Oh, it’s all in the plan I know you’re gonna break my heart So, tell me, my love, Be a man. You shift with the sands I know you’re gonna break my heart Oh, it’s all in the plan I know you’re gonna break my heart So, tell me, woman, Be a man.
9.
I was 15 years old when I wrote my first song In a gas station kiosk On a Casiotone Near the stadium In the shadow of a Miracle. There’s a song for the desperate Who robbed me at gunpoint A song for the crackheads And transvestite prostitutes Loitering Even got a song for you… Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Find a trade and get paid Make a lot and get laid Just forget all the music That swells in your head Have a family Buy a house in Oceanside It’s a dangerous endeavor And it’s much like a drug Cos you think that you’re winning But, it’s never enough Till the money’s gone Still the urge is twice as strong Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Nothing to show for it Nothing to show for… Dogs of Bushwick. And they play to their wives And they play to their children They play to their girlfriends While time is shrinking their audience To play at all don’t make no sense It’s a gift, it’s a curse It’s a drink that I nurse And it sometimes gets better But it also gets worse… Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. There’s a radio station alive in my head There’s a radio station that’s driving me mad Hearing symphonies Strings and horns and timpani I know silence to be the writer’s worst enemy Apathy runs a close second But, do what you want to me There will still be song. Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Got a little change Got a little change In my pocket Now reach for it. Nothing to show for it Nothing to show for it Nothing to show for it… Dogs of Bushwick.
10.
Falling short in a world made of plastic And writing checks made of elastic Fighting machines so ruthless and cold Trying to push me back down the rabbit hole The man he calls looking for collections I got no words, don’t got no protection Attack my pride, entrap my possessions He’ll say anything to make the projections. Back down the hole! Back down the hole! All the King’s men Trying to put it back together again Take it from the poor and give it to their friends In a world made of plastic We face disaster… Back down the hole! Back down the hole!

about

The Sharp Things is a Brooklyn-based, classic orchestral pop and rock collective with eclectic influences including Mark Eitzel, Scott Walker, Jimmy Webb, David Bowie, Burt Bacharach, Marvin Gaye, The Who, Radiohead, Randy Newman and The Beatles (among many others).

In short, not your typical indie-rock band.

Founded in New York City in 1997, The Sharp Things have released four albums to worldwide critical acclaim (seriously, really): Here Comes The Sharp Things (Dive Records 2002), Foxes & Hounds (Bar/None, 2005), A Moveable Feast (Bar/None 2007) and the newest, Green Is Good, released on Dive on 26 February 2013.

More than three years in the making, Green Is Good is the first of a four-album series entitled Dogs Of Bushwick, to be released throughout 2013 and next year. Work on this massive project began in September 2009 at The Kennel recording studio in Brooklyn, with Feast producer Billy Polo back at the helm.

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released February 26, 2013

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The Sharp Things Brooklyn, New York

Formed in New York City in 1997, The Sharp Things are America’s premier orchestral pop-rock collective, drawing on diverse influences to produce a lush and vibrant sound that harkens back to the Golden Age of radio pop.

EverubodyEverybody is The Sharp Things’ seventh studio album, and the last in a sprawling, four-album series entitled Dogs Of Bushwick.
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