Hook Ups: Unhealthy Love Songs II

by Alex Rake and the Leaves

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about

When love is hopeless, hook ups take its place. Happy Valentine's Day!

Unhealthy Love Songs is a serial failure - songs about creepy, exhausting, and idiotic love, released in chunks. This is Volume 2.

Recorded at Keith McQuade's house. He made the art.

credits

released February 14, 2016

Performed by Alex Rake and the Leaves
Written and produced by Alex Rake

Art by Keith McQuade, AKA Haunted Birch:
Art page - www.facebook.com/artofkeithmcquade/?fref=ts
Music page - hauntedbirch.bandcamp.com

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about

Alex Rake and the Leaves Mission, British Columbia

Alex Rake is a singer/songwriter/low life from Mission, BC, and the Leaves are his friends. They are recipients of a Mission Muse Award for emerging artist.

Together, they make folk music with jazz ethics and punk aesthetics. In less fancy words, they yell and improvise all over troubadour songs.
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Track Name: Come Up to My House Tonight
You whine, there's no one 'round to give
your belly ache a rub.
You were born with ten fantastic toes
you'll only live to stub.
No hotel bathroom's sacred, man,
there's blood in every tub
SO COME UP TO MY HOUSE TONIGHT
and join the fucking club.

I know the road you're walking down.
I've had those weary eyes,
I've worn the coat that warms you
and the shades that help you hide
from the devil gargling at your sink
while your angel lover dies
O COME UP TO MY HOUSE TONIGHT
where her rotting body lies.

Your money has no value
in this whirlpool of debt
so open up your mouth and drink
or else you'll wind up wet
and so cold before the silver screen
that mocks your cabinet set
AND YOU'LL END UP AT MY HOUSE AGAIN
with a broken clarinet.

So you can kill yourself off the diving board
so tall above the pool
of filth collecting quietly
by the old abandoned school.
But remember when we ruled that place,
when we were young and cool?
COME UP TO MY HOUSE TONIGHT
just sit with me and drool.

The jazz quartet is playing
with a stuffy, plastic tone.
The ladies here are choking;
all their men are overblown.
Above it all, the final, futile
giant locusts drone:
COME UP TO MY HOUSE TONIGHT
dear God, I'm so alone.
Track Name: Where Does She Find the Time?
Work keeps on calling
School never stops
I gotta pay this speeding ticket
Back to the cops
Mom needs help moving
I need my teeth pulled -
Where does she find the time
to fuck so many people?

They say be more social
Probably they're right
But what's there to say to someone
I just met tonight
I don't want to be a predator
Or a prick or a creep, so -
Where does she find the time
to fuck so many people?

And where does she find the time to gather up this heart of mine, to stomp it til it turns to wine to feed to her new lovers?

And where does she find the time seek these handsome things she finds, scrape these diamonds from their mines, then get to know each other so well?

There are so many books to read
Sitting on my shelf
Frends keep on threatening
To kill themselves
And without her to talk to
It all gets too real -
Where does she find the time
to fuck so many people?

Work keeps on calling
School never stops
I gotta pay this speeding ticket
Back to the cops
Mom needs help moving
I need my teeth pulled -
Where does she find the time
to fuck so many people?
Track Name: Small Blue Ball
Man, it's cold outside. That night sky's stretched so far... First, you need a ride real bad, then you want out of the car. I don't get it, darling! Just tell me where you are! I'm wishing on an aeroplane for you; it looks enough like a star.

I thought you'd be hard to miss with that chain all around your neck, tied to the sweet successes of the swine of the opposite sex. But there's no wish come true quite like you'd expect... I've been driving after you all night, just to wind up in a wreck.

I hear my doctor cough. I watch my IV swirl. My casts are coming off tonight - my toes will be free to curl. My best bud brings balloons. He says he's met a girl.

When he tells me who she is, I say: "Man, it's a small fuckin' w -"