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Down With The Ship

by Strike Twelve

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Another heartless genocide, The target’s unarmed and locked in their sights, Unforgettable. They were hunted like animals; paranoia through their minds. Blood and carnage, sight and sound, Lay still bodies as they’re dying on the ground. Unforgivable, the image stuck eternal, and haunted for the rest of their lives! This building’s burning! The sorrow, rage and heartbreak fills up inside. They know the end is near and they’ll soon all be dead, once in sight. Now their only option left is suicide! Time for flight or stay and fight? The reaper’s near and closing in on your life. Death shows no mercy, and now you are suffering. No time to even say goodbye. Time to question your beliefs. Choose to suffer or choose quick relief. It’s getting hard to breathe. Unable to think clearly, you’ll be haunted for the rest of your life!
Standstill 02:24
How long has it been? It’s the same old situation that we’re in. We’re butting heads. We’re at a standstill once again. And there’s no reasoning. We can only agree to disagree, But I for one don’t think this conversation’s done. We need to somehow find a new solution. Something in which we can both believe. Maybe we just need to take a step back And we’ll see the answer has been right here all along. We’re not that different. Both passionate and thus closed-minded. I’ve had no intent of hearing anything you’ve said. ‘Cause once the vision’s in your head And you’ve fallen in love, there’s no way you’ll change a thing. You’ll hold your ground, even if it means we all go down. Maybe we just need to take a step back And we’ll see the answer has been staring us in the face!
You say that you can make it? I can see your hands are shaking. I don’t think you can! And now you’ve got a reason, But you can’t stop, you’re weak and I don’t think you can! It goes to show, you know that I am right Honestly I don’t think you can win this fight And you know, I tried my best to help But you keep fucking up every time. You will fail! You say you’ve finally changed now? You’ve turned your life around. Well I don’t think you can! How long do you think you’ll last Before you repeat your past? I don’t think you can!
For a Moment 03:37
I know it’s not such a good idea, But I get so hungry, just can’t think straight, Gotta take in everything I see. It makes me feel fat. Yea, I feel like shit. But for a moment I feel great, And it’s in that moment that I live. But then that moment’s gone, and I’m left with what I’ve done. What was I thinking? Was I thinking at all? Nowhere to run. If something seems to good to be true, you probably should Not trust it – even for a moment – you’ll wish you’d understood I’m paralyzed, can’t make a move I’ve bit off more than I can chew Wish there was something I could do. With no control of what’s to come, Let’s take a deep breath, everyone, And just enjoy the moment. Well I, for one, am not gonna stand For this. It’s easy to just sit there, Always having someone hold your hand. In this life, you can’t regret the things you did. Every wrong turn has a purpose, Something you can take away from it. So I take things as they come, but my world has come undone. Can’t pick up or put back the pieces. I guess I’ll just move on. I thought I’d found my place, my perfect space. But I’m just as lost as ever, hopeless, and easily replaced.
Midwest Town 01:24
She came out from a Midwest town Where vultures circle citizens and head for the ground. So sick and tired of feeling gagged and bound So she packed up what she needed and got on a greyhound. Nothing but power chords and a dream to get found. Just wait ‘til California gets a load of my sound! She came out trying to be a star. Only packed a duffle bag and Squier guitar. Set up shop playing Ramones for tips in a jar When a dirty club promoter caught her act from the bar. He said, “You’ve got the tits and ass, I’ll take you so far. Direct support for Bad Relig’ – just get in my car!” She came out from a Midwest town Where her evil pastor father kept her locked underground. Her brand new father figure has her out on the town. Promised her fame but she got paraded around. You want that record deal, then you’d better go down. Come on, shake your booty baby, show me the brown. Do do do do, do do do do do do, Do do do do, do do do do do do. Do do do do, do do do do do do, Do do do do, do do do do do do. All she every wanted was to sell her CDs, But the only way to do it’s selling 18 pleats.
Apathy 03:25
Major Tom* 02:49
Nice Try 02:58
So watch me fall down with another sinking ship. Were you listening to a fucking word I said? To the floor, the ocean fills my lungs. I can’t say I regret anything that I have done. It’s just the things I didn’t do that turn me blue. It’s like my whole life I’ve been weaving rope for making my own noose. I’m out of use. I refuse to die so I’ll never say goodbye. So here I go, through a supermassive black hole. My present and my future are now out of my control. Through space and time, without rhythm, without rhythm. It’s like the utility bill wasn’t paid that powers up my mind. And the source of my existence isn’t true. A director with no actors, a mechanic with no tools, I’m out of use. I refuse to die so I’ll never say goodbye. Not a part of your agenda, No wonder my world is so fucked up. You weren’t by my side. You left me here to die. You kicked when I’m down. I got back off the ground. So nice try. I refuse to die so I’ll never say goodbye.
I feel like tearing my hair out. Yea, I’m going insane. It seems I’ve got way too many things on my plate. There’s no one who can save me and there’s no one to blame But myself. I’m a glutton for pain. I really can’t complain ‘cause deep down I do it ‘cause I love it But the more I think about it I get knots in my stomach. In every relationship, I run into the same old shit. I promise the world, and I have every intent to deliver, But the end result is only a sliver. So I’m playing catch-up, but it’s never enough. I’m relying on lowered expectations, unconditional love. At the least, I’m there in spirit, coming through in the clutch. Whoa! My life’s a mess, my life’s a mess, And something tells me this might be as good as it gets. Whoa! My life’s a mess, my life’s a mess, And something tells me this might be it. Have you seen my apartment? Yea, it’s out of control. There’s a circle of mold in the closet that continues to grow. If I turned my back on it, it would swallow me whole, But it’s ok. Because from what I’ve been told, With a bucket of paint, and a brush, you can cover it up. Hide the odor with some Lysol, yea, nobody will notice. And the roaches are as big as your head. They skitter around on the counters and the walls and the ground, Dropping down from the ceiling, landing right in my coffee. It gives me a sick sense in my gut. But I try my best to ignore it, yelling out “Bottoms up!” Chug it down because I don’t have time to brew a new cup. Every now and then, You just have to take a break and reset. When tomorrow comes, I’m gonna start off fresh. Gonna go to bed early… Nah fuck it. Tonight I’m getting wasted, with a bunch of my friends! Getting double vision, making bad decisions, Like I’m back in college – puke and rally then I’ll do it again. Keep pushing myself to the limit, to the very end! Maybe some day I will find a way to stretch out the time, But at least I know whatever happens, I can sleep when I’m dead.
Don’t talk to me about channels for free If they’ll just disappear in 3 months. ‘Cause eventually I’ll have to argue fees With the customer service cunts. When in reality, we pay their salary And they thank us by charging us more. So the time is now that we take back the power. It’s time that we all cut the cord! If I had TNT, I’d level their company. We’d cheer BRAVO as I lit the FUSE. ‘Cause my DISCOVERY is throughout HISTORY, We WEATHER their storm of abuse! But what I can’t believe is that these fucks perceive us As dollar signs, pawns in their plot to deceive. But what should make them nervous, their entire service Is something we can live without! But what I can’t believe is that these fucks perceive us as Dollar signs, but it’s our own decision, Because the real disease isn’t just corporate greed, But out addiction to television. Think outside the box! Stop consuming cable television.
Stuck 02:00
It’s been a long time coming, since we were kids. I focused on all my talents, wore myself thin. I should’ve chosen one and become a pro. But now I am stuck as a know-it-all. A major in Comm! What a worthless degree! Those six years of Spanish were useless to me. Some become doctors and VPs alike. But at least I know they’re friends for life. What’s my next move? I don’t know. I guess it only goes to show: Vivo una vida probre y loco. Some will say, “hang in there, it only gets better from here.” Yo sé que están mintiendo. I’m now in my 30s and feel like a jerk As I sit at my desk while pretending to work. I’ve become the asshole at every last call. Depressed ‘cause I’m stuck as a know-it-all.
When we got into Modesto, we thought it would be the best show ‘til we saw the bar was closed every Monday. So we went to a supermarket, bought a homeless guy a parka And covered Banana Joe’s with pee and eggs. When the clock strikes twelve, you’ll see just who you’re dealing with And what we’ve got in store. And if you stab us in the back, you’re gonna feel it When you’re hosing off your door. On the way to San Jose, Dan needed some Gatorade, So he grabbed the first bottle that he could see. Danny B was sure mistaken when he realized he’d taken A refreshing gulp of Matty Turek’s pee. [It wasn’t fucking mine, I swear!] When the clock strikes twelve, you’ll see just who you’re dealing with, They’ll put you in your place. That’s why we drink it down, just so we can bring it back And spit in your face! At the Slidebar in Orange County, Danny B was getting rowdy, And the line to the men’s room was far too long. So he peed with the females, and they’re threw his ass in jail, Too drunk to even know what he did wrong. Well Danny gave the jailers hell, stuck his dick outside the cell, And left a puddle in the room that they were in. Well the cops got the last laugh, left his wallet, but took his cash And his shoes were soaked and wreaked of cop urine. When the clock strikes twelve, it’s finally gonna hit you, Like a quick jab to the gut. Sometimes you get lost in the moment and don’t see it ‘Til you’re walking home barefoot. When the clock strikes twelve, you’re probably gonna need somebody There to bail you out. That’s why your friends will always be there for you, When you swing and you strike out. When you take a step outside into the real world, (You’re) always under attack. When they fuck you from behind, at least you have someone To help you fuck ‘em back. That’s a fact.
Monument 04:48
Down for the count, on the couch, the lights have long gone out But there might be someone home. Rest assured, she’d prefer to be preserved, like a piece of furniture, Like a statue made of stone. But the heart goes on beating, With the trickled tube feedings, As she melts into her seat, It makes sense to me That she’ll always be a great reminder That she always seemed like such a fighter. And if you miss her, just assume that she’s at piece. Her own monument of who she used to be. Quality, dignity, if it were me, rather live to infinity Than go before my time. If you must, do your best, pound her chest, Because to let her finally rest would be more heinous of a crime Any way to avoid the sting of misplaced guilt. The final day, the end of Spring. What flower wilts, just to bloom again?


Strike Twelve is:
Matty T – vocals/guitar
Joey T – vocals/bass
Danny B – drums/percussion
Andy T – lead guitar/vocals

Major Tom was written by Peter Schilling and was originally released in 1983. Iron Lion Zion was written and originally released by Bob Marley in 1973. All other songs and lyrics written by Strike Twelve. Additional group vocals on “Joe’s Apartment” by Alex, Doug and Steve from Margate. Additional vocals in “Iron Lion Zion” by Lina, Gaby, Mayra, and Erica. Special guest appearance by The Haasman in “Failure Is An Option.” All songs tracked at Strike Twelve Studios in Temecula, CA and Joe’s Apartment in San Diego, CA. Edited by Joey T. Mixed and mastered by TJ Rivera at TJ Rivera Studio in Moreno Valley, CA. Artwork and layout by Si Mitchell in the UK (www.simitchell.co.uk).


released February 24, 2017


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Strike Twelve California

So Cal punk rock since 2003.

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