Spud Bugs EP

by Spud Bugs

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about

recorded in the smirlins castle of wizardry . Album art by
Katie.

credits

released February 12, 2016

A place we could call home written by Nick turncoat
All for me Grog unknown artist, old traditional Irish song.

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Spud Bugs Las Vegas, Nevada

Ninos De La tierra

Trevor- Octave Mandolin/vox
Steven- Accordion/Vox
Katie- Viola/Vox
Sky- Trumpet/Vox

full list of collective members on facebook.

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Track Name: Digging Holes
There are things that you and me, we bury deep
We go and dig a hole and plant like trees
things we don't want to see, what we're afraid to be
from the ground under our feet
the bugs have our shame to eat!

Everything happens for a reason
or is that just made up to, give us a purpose?
Dirt filled with filth and lies
a way to hide our guilty ties
under the sun and clouds
it will eventually sprout.

Something in life, aren't meant to be known
Or Bitter problematic people will be overgrown
what would we be?
without personal anarchy?
You think things will work out as planned, they never really do
still here we stand.

There are things that you and me, we bury deep
hide away its things we don't, we don't wanna keep
Its no longer me, It never happened to me!
From the ground under my feet, the bugs have my shame to eat.
Track Name: Haunted House
You built a house of stone and steel
paint us a portrait that's so surreal
the doors are locked and i know
there's nothing to hide behind them but bones

(chorus)
and the story unfolds
and i turn the page to see what comes next
and I'll tell you from what I've learned
that i just like you a
afraid to fly.

On to the window shall we look inside?
all of your terrors sure know how to hide
No dust on the cabinet, none on the drawers
everything is spotless but the blood on the floor!

(chorus)
and the story unfolds
and i turn the page to see what comes next
and i'll tell you from what i've learned
that I'm just like you a
afraid to fly.


*musical break*
Track Name: A Place We Could Call Home (Turncoat Collective)
sitting by the tracks out side of the yard
i hear the whistle blowing the trains chuggin hard by the time it gets to us, it's going to fast to hop.
Underneath the bridge in Nashville Tennessee finally the train stops just for me, but not before we get hassled by the cops.

So its back out on the road
same stories are always told
to me it don't get old.

well I grew up in the backwoods, moved out into the streets
So not to burden those i love and i got somewhere to sleep
Because i refuse to sell myself, shorter than I'm worth.

So i wake up in the morning with the sun beating down
upon my dirty face as i lie on the ground
Pack up my gear and its time for a long days work

So it's back out on the road,
same stories are always told
To me it don't get old

While you're whining about being alone
complaining about being cold
to me it don't get old

Spending most my time on street corners and on ramps
I've been searching through the city for a place to camp
stuffing my face with some strangers leftovers

Cause there's no sense in paying for what should be free
Like food, transportation, and PROPERTY!
I'll die before accepting wages from some lazy share holders.

So it's back out on the road,
same stories are always told
To me it don't get old

While you're whining about being alone
complaining about being cold
to me it don't get old!

Search for something more the older that i get
If we can change the world even a little bit
But its hard to make a change when you're in it on your own

And all the country miles that we all can walk!
and all the fucking freight trains we could hop!
couldn't lead us to a place we could call home
we could call home
A place we could call home
we could call home
A place we could call home.
Track Name: All For Me Grog
Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog,
It's all for me beer and tobacco.
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.

Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots,
They're all gone for beer and tobacco.
For the heels they are worn out and the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out for better weather.

Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog,
It's all for me beer and tobacco.
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.

Where is me shirt, me noggin', noggin' shirt,
It's all gone for beer and tobacco,
For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn,
And the tail is looking out for better weather.

Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog,
It's all for me beer and tobacco.
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.

I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed,
Since first I came ashore from me slumber,
For I spent all me dough on the lassies don't you know,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.

Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog,
It's all for me beer and tobacco.
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinking gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.