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lyrics

Wide eyed, black eye
The blood it covers
My face from the lines
Across the polaroid, this
White lit, back light
Card is all I have from the
Party on Brighton Ave, alright

Andrew, Andrew
Is what we shout in the night
At the dawn of the coming sight
And we run about it right about when
Everybody hears the feedback cry
For us, we’re privately live
While the girls and the guys
Start fight starting streaking up the
Our enemy lines, a little friendly fire
Just a kick in the head from the mosh life
Lost in the thrill of the pleasure of dancing red

Get it, got it, fucking getting gotten good
Makes you feel alright when everything ain’t right
It’s a far cry for psychotic I gotta try
For the size of the shred of time I got left in the
Right now, following a symbiotic
Meaning to why it makes us feel alright
To get punched and bruised, the party battles on
Get ready to die, don’t have to tell us twice

We work all day to scrap a dime
To make it down to 115
Get in late, it erupts at nine
A swan dive caught on a polaroid

credits

from Santa Only Gives to Rich Kids, released March 17, 2016

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

The Nucken Futs Boston, Massachusetts

Boston-based gutter punk. We like to listen to The Descendents, Strung Out, Leftover Crack, A Wilhelm Scream, etc, etc.

Aaron Dojj—vocals, guitar

Jeremy Newstead—vocals, drums, bass

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