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The Stone Operation

by Mischief Brew

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1.
Your daddy used to drive 95 on 95 Said he did it all the time And he made it back alive Used to warn you about the Lower East Side at night And the bars down by the harbor Where the drunken sailors fight I remember sleeping on the roof From June until the fall Sister swat you with a stick Father slam you against the wall All the cops were taking bribes All the bodies disappear Gun was always at the side When you went for a beer around here So walk a mile in my boots down to the old school Maybe crybaby will learn a thing or two Wiseguys and weasels used to run this whole damn town I got beat so many times 'Til I learned to knock 'em down Now I'm made of steel and leather Stitched with wires and screws Built a house at 19 Cause at 18 got the boot So walk a mile in my shoes before you sing those blues Things ain't what they used to be, don't make 'em like they used to Burnin' through our cigarettes Risking injury or death It's like we used to say: If you could see this place And I could see your face Smash up your fantasy Justice served, no one bleeds I'm rollin' up my sleeves to tell you 'bout a lawless world And no one came along to pick me up off the curb And how I wailed the whole way home to hear "I got what I deserved" See, I did what I had to do Seen some things I'll never tell I'll take it with me to my grave Cause I burned my life in hell And if you went to walk that mile, you'd be in for a surprise Just a highway and a fine for hitchin' a ride Burnin' through our cigarettes Risking injury or death It's like they always say: If you could see this place And I could see your face Tear up your fantasy Peace kept, nobody beat I'm rollin' up my sleeves Hey, where the hell you been? Pick your poison, name your game Play to kill, shoot to win The burns you wanna see are all just history I cashed in, sold out, had nothing left to cry about I'd love to still believe There's order in a lawless world
2.
All my friends are freaks The only way to be I could tell you the things I've seen But you probably won't be able to eat Sometimes I look around and just smile at the sight Of you not believing your own eyes And you tell your children "look away" But I'm sorry, sir, it's too late Circus pullin' into Tiny Town Saint of Purity is going down Underground forever, underground forever All my friends are drunks They gotta be on drugs Jugglin' daggers on a warehouse roof With a torch and 150 proof You'll see ink on a face Or a ring through a place that'll make you wanna kneel and pray And if your children go to see our show They're never coming home Circus pullin' out of Tiny Town Church of Purity is burning down Underground forever, underground forever And I know You're all along the way And I know We'll need a place to stay As the piper starts to play Here come that rat parade And you're all along the way
3.
Romanian Dallas Our Jesus and Elvis For coffee and oil The company palace Still sending old vessels In search of new shores Land ahoy! We've warned of the dangers To good girls and boys Take candy from soldiers A red flag no more So now come the imports Our exports, our weapons of war: A star on the screen Their kids never dressed like that before Romanian Dallas The leaders allowed this Indictment of greed While Berlin was burning A silent subversion Had planted its seed Well, I'm sorry to say The common man ain't no working class saint He just wants some rest at the end of the day Whether America Or somewhere far off in the East He's falling asleep Watching our programs on TV We can't go back This crazy old train never blew off track This great royal ship never steered off course Like it or not, we're moving in next door By grace or force Romanian Dallas Some call it a virus And others, the cure If you look behind: A runaway train still running on time A history made of dirty secrets and lies Etch them in stone Then leave them behind Far behind
4.
I got beans, tea Pennies to dollars Canadian, Euro, and pounds I found some bar on a card With some scratch on the back It says, "One drink for free Just stop in sometime, it's on me Bring your guitar Sing of rising moons, whiskey and jars." And if I had a dime for each cigarette Lint, after-dinner mints, and bread A ten from father and toddler That smiled for a medley And said, "Here's to luck You're pretty damn good, keep it up If ever you make it on music TV, think of us." I'd earn busker's wages Read life between pages and lines A fiddle and Matty O'Boyle And I, with six wires, creep out for a strum and a saw Singin' songs til the cops sing along So tonight, I walk by the old corner Some stranger has taken my place I'll scrape the crumbs off my pocket And spice up a clarinet case I'd earn busker's wages Read life between pages and lines Now when I snap up and wrap up for the drive I think of the best money I've ever made in my life
5.
I ain't not a'scared of nuthin' Nuthin' gonna keep me down Beggar to the pocket thief Bomber to the wild beast Blocked streets Rats bigger than me I ain't not a'scared of nuthin' On this whole battleground I ain't not a'listenin' to no one No one tell me what to do Army, Navy, chief of police Saints, demons, all their priests I'll wind up and knock 'em all off their feet I ain't not a'listenin' to no one So scream until you're blue I would rather take this hammer Shatter my own house made of glass Than be rewired, never catch fire I'll keep the stone that's making me mad I ain't not a'scared of nuthin' I ain't gonna stay inside Keep your caution, your words of warning And I'll laugh in your face when I make it back alive I ain't not a stayin' nowhere I ain't not a'stayin' put Wanna strap me to a bed Drill a hole into my head No thanks, I'll take folly instead I ain't not a stayin' nowhere And is that understood? I would rather take this hammer Shatter my own house made of glass Than be rewired, never catch fire I'll keep the stone that's making me mad I ain't not a'scared of nuthin' I ain't gonna run and hide Keep your caution, your words of warning And I'll laugh in your face when I make it back alive Let it ride
6.
Paris 1933 It says here: army marches streets A thousand soldiers seen today All on the eve of May Day I found a paper in the antique "Paris Warlike On May Day Eve" This gasoline has met its match Any uprising will be smashed The stirring guns and loaded tanks So who shall cast the first red flag? On yellow paper, black type Troops are ready to smash a general strike Up in the attic, under dust I opened up a soldier's trunk And now the ghosts inside are all stirred up Can almost hear those trumpets blare They're holding fire in the square They're standing on some general's bones And that's all the AP wrote I guess the people all went to sleep I wonder, what did May first's headlines read? All on the paper in the antique Paris warlike on May Day eve
7.
Got a little garden Pull the flags out of the sand Let's point our fingers and hold our hands Did you hear on the screen About pollution in the River Scene? Can we burn them witches clean and purify? Hey choir, stuff's weird between you and I Got a little clubhouse Ever read so many rules? Thought the whole point here was to get away From church and school Nowadays, hard to rock To the beat of your secret knock And so it's friends and pints We talk and try to find the gold between black and white Hey, stuff's weird between you and I Cause every city's got one that they don't talk about "Used to march along now he don't hang around." Turned the wrong way down a one-way street Drove on the red, stopped on the green Cryin', "no code big enough to smother me." Got a little dreamhouse We could each one have it all But you got a habit of burnin' them down Cause you don't like the color of the walls But it's ok, it's alright You know you're welcome anytime I think of all the lines you helped me to bust outside They say your first love lasts your life Hey, stuff's weird between you and I
8.
On The Sly 03:09
Gather up ye pots and cans Gonna have to share the amps And move along from band to band A race against the sinking sand If the pigs come cruising by We'll turn off all the lights And keep the stick from hitting skin Until they're round the bend This is where the salt are sharing spit and sweat and steam The kids may all get out alive but none of them go home the same Another space has closed Got no place left to go So go save someone else And don't you tell me 'bout no fire code So welcome to the show Down, underground, underneath, below Here you can make your own Just keep your smoke down Keep your smoke from rising There's a laundromat on Main By night, another place From generators, vacant lots To underneath the coffee shop Someone upstairs is cool Just leave no trace of you It's like a new inebriation Against prohibition Only catch is you can't post the time and place Got whisper codes on down the lane It works better anyway See, we tried to be legit Got bound in red tape So had to do it on the sly This is your noise complaint We stand against the law Stand against the law Singers, dancers, brewers, drinkers Stand against the law We stand against the law Stand against the law We see a celebration and they see a battle call We stand against the law Stand against the law Let's put the middlemen out of a job We stand against the law Stand against the law Is this a celebration or is this a battle call? We stand against the law
9.
Where did you come from and where do you go? The rattlers are still and the ashes are cold The stage, it is empty, the Union Halls dark And the lights are so bright that I can't see the stars Ain't no heaven and hell in the Great By-And-By Where the dead, they are laughing, singing and spilling their wine Seattle to Spokane, Missoula to Butte The spare-changers' stories so boring and true Now the world ain't so lonesome without you around Hey, tell me, where can you camp where you can't hear a sound? Ain't no heaven and hell in the Great By-And-By Where the dead, they are laughing, singing and spilling their wine Oh, the stories we'll tell on our last and long ride Where the dead, they are laughing, singing and spilling their wine Now that God's gone and the devil's in a hole It's Aces, Straights, Flushes with Johnny and Joe No masters, no yard bulls to chase a boy down He's gone to where the bums go when they're run out of town Say so long to the rails From the sage to the pine While the dead, they are laughing Singing and spilling their wine Where do you come from and where did you go?
10.
Our Father Have a bloody Mary With the shadows in the valley that got hell to raise All hallowed haints and caco-daemons Make the children running, screaming down the ways and lanes Gather like fish in a barrel May we eat until we're fatter And feel no shame It's a party, hey, so drink until it's better For a night if never later Playing backwards games So break the right hand off and leave the left wing for me If I had religion Sabbath to keep sacred I would say the devil's raising on an autumn day Warn the Christian soldiers, their silent sons and daughters That the devil's gonna take 'em out on holiday On fire And full of lucky numbers You are one and we are several I will stand as you admire All liars All dressed up together Last hurrah before the winter brings its stakes and wires A cider! One more round together Time to hit the town forever Or to crawl away and die So break the right wing off and leave the left hand be An anthem for the wicked Number for the twisted Taking Halloween 'fore Christmas anyday Gotta warn the Christian soliders I think their time is over Cause the devil's gonna take 'em out on holiday Eh, la-bas!
11.
It was somewhere in the suburbs of Philadelphia A house was gutted, added onto six times its weight About a week to go until the move-in date And everybody runnin' in a six-day race There was bangin', there was buzzin' Everybody on their knees Running behind, everyone can agree Yet four o'clock arrived and someone brought back a case And the power went out in the whole damn place Property is theft until the thieves are away If we did this in a month, we'd be arrested and detained For draggin' all our brains beyond the barbed wire chain And drinking on private land From the foreman to the laborers to the migrants to me Stop drop and wrap up, pull up a bucket, have a seat Tattered T's and ragged jeans all gathered around Finally sayin' something more than, "Move your van, I'm pullin' out." And there was something all of us had seen The owner was a creep Something greedy stuck in his teeth You see, anyone that needs a nine-car garage with heat Ain't never was and never will be no friend to me We're singing Property is theft until the thieves are away If we did this in a month, we'd be arrested and detained For draggin' all our brains beyond the barbed wire chain And drinking on private land Well, toss the empties in the garden The scapers will scrape 'em out when they come back to dig in Maybe leave a cap beneath the root As proof that we exist, oh my Well a foreman and a painter laugh and they find some solid ground Seems they both hail from the same bars, Side of tracks and side of town You know, come to think of it, We'll all make lefts out of the driveway today You-know-who makes a right and speeds away Well, I say cheers With our cold sweaty beers We won't be allowed around here When those gates all close And then security takes the wheel But that's another time and we'll be on another job Just don't call me, man, when your joints crack And your pipes all clog I scrape off my watch And if the boss calls, I'll say we're drinking on private land
12.
(Words: H.P. Lovecraft/Nick Blinko) Come hither, my lads, with your tankards of ale, And drink to the present before it shall fail; Pile each on your platters a mountain of beef, For 'tis eating and drinking that bring us relief: So fill up your glass, For life will soon pass; When you're dead ye'll ne'er drink to your king or your lass! Anacreon had a red nose, so they say But what's a red nose if ye're happy and gay? Gad split me! I'd rather be red whilst I'm here, Than white as a lily -and dead half a year! So Betty my miss, Come give me a kiss; In hell there's no inkeeper's daughter like this! Young Harry, propp'd up just as straight as he's able, Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table, But fill up your goblets and pass 'em around- Better under the table than under the ground! So revel and chaff As ye thirstily quaff: Under six feet of dirt 'tis less easy to laugh! The fiend strike me blue! I'm scarce able to walk, And damn me if I can't stand upright or talk! Here, landlord, bid Betty to summon a chair; I'll try home for a while, for my wife is not there! So lend me a hand I'm not able to stand But I'm gay whilst I linger on top of the land! (I spiked his drink)

about

In a former church way outside of Philadelphia, Mischief Brew recorded "The Stone Operation" loud and fast on tour-battered gear, fiercely strummed banjos, and trashy drum kits more suited for a fairground organ. All the flare of past recordings is there: junk percussion, drunken mandolin-playing, grotesque imagery in a lyric book that strangely resembles an early edition of “Grimm’s Household Tales.” But those are just spices and ornaments, not the main dish - and the main course on “The Stone Operation” is raging hot.

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released May 10, 2011

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Mischief Brew Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Emerging from the undead ashes of PA punk troupe The Orphans, Mischief Brew started with a scratchy demo tape in 2000 and has since spread the good word of anarchy, hilarity, and rebellion across state lines and even the Atlantic Ocean a few times. We've managed to exist for over 13 years in one form or another by kissing nobody's ass and doing everything ourselves, for the most part. No rules! ... more

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