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This Is Not For Children

by Mischief Brew

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1.
Two Nickels 03:11
I read a warning on the bus Said, "Turn it down and bundle up." A penny saved, a dollar spent So trim the wick and get to bed Oil and kerosene Stove will throw a little heat Smell of propane in the halls And scraping wax off floor and walls And everybody on the block Is talkin' bout the weather, not the war But will we crack when the houses all go black And the radiators knock no more? I saw a story on the screen Everybody in the street Another early morning blaze They got out, but not okay Spread out on the kitchen floor Just trying to keep warm Mayor, landlord, tell 'em now To bundle up and turn it down And everybody on the block Is talkin' bout the weather, not the war But will we crack when the houses all go black And the radiators knock no more? One way or another, we're going south for the winter So let's go
2.
Bad Heart 03:40
Hope you've enjoyed the show I'll be in the back, it's "take the make-up off, Box the dummy, away we go..." Alleyways the whole way home I always like to start with a song About a side you've never known So hit me with everything you've got And maybe you’ll break me Crack me if you can, my friend Prove me something other than machine That does it all, except one small thing It’s a tough good fight to win When you got a bad heart And with a beat so bad Do we freeze it then break it apart Or can we take it from the start? Did you have a real good cry? I can’t join, but how I’ve tried They gave you that part, forgot mine It ain’t like knockin’ on hollow tin Yea, I know there’s something there But it’s barely pumpin’ So hit me with everything you’ve got And maybe you’ll shake me Crack me if you can, my friend Help me find some evidence That I wasn’t just a poor design It’s a tough good fight to win When you got a bad heart And with a beat so bad Do we freeze it then break it apart Ain't no takin' it from the start Good guy, bad bad heart Incomplete But harvestin’ parts Gonna build a classic car So hit me with everything you’ve got And maybe you’ll slay me Crack me if you can, and then I’ll be fully human And we’ll sync/sink like we never knew of rhythm It’s a tough good fight to win When you got a bad heart And with a beat so bad Do we freeze it then break it apart It's a tough good fight to win When you got a bad heart Bad heart Bad heart Bad...
3.
Forget our faces Don’t you know they’ve never been too good with names? Call it like they see it Wring the blood out of the rocks of real estate I was walking east on Fairmount, up to Broad How far the “Art Museum Area” tag has gone And I wanna ask the neighbors If that’s how the agents pitched the place they bought Long before the chains were wrapped around the block, They were sellin’ us it’s something that it’s not Long before the taxes and the rents went up They were stretching out the posts and taking shots “This is where we live, this ain’t your ground to stomp,” We shout against your roaring But it’s a game of names, and once it’s underway That is our early warning 40 ounces, Hoagie City, east on 30, from the woods I was raised up in West Philly by a pack of crazy wolves You got your wreckin’ balls and eminent domain You got your buildings where we work, and used to play But we knew the night was over when Univer-City banners came From the dealers to the punks to pioneers Into boxes where the students slam their beers It’s an investment, not a place we live no more Stop me if you think you’ve heard this real bad joke before “This is where we live, this ain’t your ground to stomp,” We shout against your roaring But it’s a game of names, and once it’s underway That is our early warning This is where we rolled, into a parking lot I think you know the story First they draw the bounds then come the hare and hounds And then the land is foreign They were lining up at tables, for the meals in the parks Others signing, trying to shut ‘em down and out of their back yards They say it’s dignity, not “out of sight and mind” They say it’s cleanliness, not tourists walkin’ by It’s not displacement or an exile down on Main It’s not dispossession, just a change of name Forget our faces Don’t you know they’ve never been too good with names? “This is where we live, this ain’t your ground to stomp,” We shout against your roaring But it’s a game of names, and once it’s underway That is our early warning This is your early warning
4.
I hear the sound of angry fans I’m walkin’ by, they’re crushing cans And throwing them at their sets again You know I’ve heard this thing before Every year, at least times four It’s a city built on stubs and scars We swear, “No not next year” But led back to the wooder, here we are You know we feed them ‘til they’re packed Tickertape is way too much to ask Here in the streets and the dives, you can feel it While back in the stands, swing and miss, you can hear it These seasons are new, zero=love, but we fear it Barb from South Philly calls again She was just a kid in ‘64 But remembers her dad cursing at the same old radio Now they Phold like it’s the only thing they know I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn They’re wailing, “Oh no not again,” And talkin’ bout the disappointment that’s on deck But don’t sleep ‘til it’s over (Cause it brings us together) These arenas are like scenes of a crime Soft goals and turnovers 20,000 grunts turn into sighs And the national condemns…to hell with them You know I’d throw snow again Here on the jobs, in the halls, you can feel it While back in the stands, 6-4-3, you can hear it These seasons are new, zero love, and we fear it I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn They’re wailing, “Oh no not again,” And talkin’ bout the disappointment that’s on deck But don’t sleep ‘til it’s over Cause it brings us together I hear the ghosts of Billy Penn I see your goats and your Bartmans But don’t worry bout it The piper’s passing out the checks From the Bull back to the wall To the top of city hall We are beaten, full of crow But I know I’d never call another home “home.”
5.
(CHORUS): You’ve got squatter envy As the hours drag on like a day The desire to toss the banker, landlord, and boss It was brimming but you pissed it away Better put down the irons and woods There are chains to be cut I say it’s time for you to find out what it’s really like To hit in the rough Come on, your posh garden parties ain’t foolin’ no one As you flash your cash clips out, They must weigh a ton I’m tellin’ you, your life would be so much better If you just fucked it up (CHORUS) Here’s your new church, blood, body No god, no priest Cause you can’t get to heaven Bustin’ unions, spillin’ jobs in the sea Let the Ash n’ Palm robber barons send their amens Then go back to their bunkers, food rotting in bins Hate the kids, crash the cars, send the checks in Sweetly singing, “Kill me please.” (CHORUS) Rich is poor Poor is rich I say bullshit Gold is grime Hey, that’s just fine Cause I want yours and you want mine Now gather around, I got a far-fetched story to spin Where we sling, swing, drive, dig, cook, clean, teach for the life you live in And we’ll take the hard knocks if the wages are right But you’ve shown time and time again, you can’t play nice I hope the ropes and pistols send you packin’ On the great junk train to paradise (CHORUS)
6.
I got a fence to lean against over the cliffs I see a kid climbing over the stones Big man in uniform come around Say, “Get down!” Kid says, “No sign says no.” I got a line I’m standing behind Everyday as the train rolls into the dock And voice on the air, it says, “Beware, All legs and arms inside the ride until a complete stop.” They say, “Don’t go where you ain’t been, Diggin’ a hole and gonna fall right in, You never know who you’re gonna meet. Better stay in and get a good night’s sleep.” They say, “Don’t get caught down on that side of the tracks.” Gimme danger, disbeware of this and that I got a gate stuck in the way Over the wires and through the imaginary property signs It’s getting night, dinnertime “You could have died,” it’s gonna be But I feel so alive The travel guide says stay in at night Avoid the red lights, North East South and West sides And no taxi fare will take you there But that’s what I do I trip and fall and no, I ain’t gonna sue Can’t you take me somewhere we don’t own? Into the woods and leave me all alone? No crumbs, no pebbles or paint on trees Just fires and bottles on the beach As I see rich kids wrapped up, happy to be tracked Gimme danger, disbeware of this and that And I’m hangin’ by a single thread And they say it’s troubled water Stop only to catch your breath Why else would you even bother? Slap a sticker on and call it safe New world anything but brave I know the car alarm by heart But what’s behind your down-crime-rate? And would it be the same if help wasn’t just a 9-1-1 away? You got a gun beside your bed You ain’t afraid to shoot to kill in the name of defense If they decide to hit again You got a can rack stashed and a mask for the gas attack And there you’ll hide, last one alive As the jokers all choke and the clowns all cry You plan in your mind behind the line, Fence and the guide, the gate, the wire Stuck on your side of the sign They say, “Don’t go where you ain’t been, Diggin’ a hole and gonna fall right in, You never know who you’re gonna meet. Better stay in and get a good night’s sleep.” They say, “Don’t get caught down on that side of the tracks.” Gimme danger, disbeware of this and that
7.
We sat on the Bulb rocks With plum wine and we watched The fog roll and swallow the bridge on the bay I thought, “I could live here,” But I’m still in high gear And sweating and freezing 3,000 away O Pennsyltucky! Your three mile islands The coal fires buckle the miners’ highways I love just to leave you But it’s good to see you And old Filthadelph Hostile City, PA Where we all come from Most died of the Black Lung Another, a browbeater, boxer, and saint When he finally got caught, The cops made a few calls They opened his cell Never fought him again In O Pennsyltucky! Your three mile islands The coal fires buckle the miners’ highways I love just to leave you But it’s good to see you And old Filthadelph Hostile City, PA Wake me when Steel City’s roadwork signs Shine in my face Whew, now I’m safe Was that a peepshow With drive-thru windows? The gun show’s got carousels and funnel cakes It says “Church” in neon And asks me what’s beyond If I had to guess, I’d say more of the same In O’ Pennsyltucky! Your three mile islands The coal fires buckle the miners’ highways I love just to leave you But it’s good to see you And old Filthadelph Hostile City, PA O Pennsyltucky… how your coal fires rumble I love just to leave you But it’s good to see you And old Filthadelph Hostile City, PA
8.
Lay down your pistols Pick up a can of red paint Don’t curse the papers Think of all the friends that you could make We the masters and deceivers run the show I ain’t spewing out the truth for any fool to know You’ve got strings so we’ve got wires to control As the film rolls It’s what we owe Entertainment, more than tickets sold Is this a playhouse Or a funhouse where the world outside goes black? “It’s just a movie” So you say until your seats are zapped We’ve got nurses, should you faint at any time We’ve got hearses revved up at the ready, should you die It’s all covered here, in print, above the dotted line So go ahead and sign And down go the lights Entertainment, out of black and white King of the show, lord of the lies Master of a thousand faces masked in disguise I got thrills, but if you like ‘em cheap Then here’s a TV Stay home and sleep And make way for the tricksters Who make way for the treats Do not enter This is not for children, guaranteed Caveat Emptor All this make you wanna come and see? And if halfway through, you’re far too afraid You can have your money back And I’ll still be paid No one’s ever stood and walked out to this very day And that’s entertained Terrified and amazed Like tall coasters roll, it’s what you’re owed Now that’s what I call a show
9.
Where do I begin? Chamber, take a spin Snake eyes coming down the road again With the trouble in my lap In a ride without a map Somehow always find my way back in Too chicken to retreat Losers never cheat It wasn’t pretty, but hey, a win’s a win Prodding at the clocks Dancing on the rocks Both ends got a wick No candlesticks Throw it down and bottoms up Join in our ode of reckless lunacy Double wick, no candlesticks Until we burn, and that’s a way to be Some friends from better days They wax and buff their names And I think I’m the one pulling up lame I howl until I’m hoarse Then crash into the floor In the corner, on my face Trapped in by paint
10.
2000 was fired out from a cannon The neighbors shot up at the lamps We piled in the street and stood for our anthems On top of the cars with bottles in hands This year crept up, who could see it coming? No one saw the signs, if any were there The distant funeral marches drumming I’ll take life, don’t care if it’s fair Read too many tales with terrible endings Gods and machines that get in the way You thought we were home Turns out we were renting Until I am gone, I’m here to stay Taken away, our friends, our lovers By cancer, heroin, tragedy It’s not the wakes I’m worried over It’s knowing we have to go to sleep If it’s a highway I am trying just to drive I am trying just to drive Stay awake and stay alive If it’s a highway I want you there at the side I want you there at the side Still awake and still alive The songs we thought we’d have to bury We faced ‘em head on right away Every reason to cry, not one to worry Drive faster and further is my only change So tattoo our arms and raise our glasses Call out your names this New Years Eve And may the next time we kneel at a casket We say, “At least the story’s complete.” If it’s a highway I am trying just to drive I am trying just to drive Stay awake and stay alive If it’s a highway I want you there at the side I want you there at the side Still awake and still alive

about

Philly anarcho-punk/folk troubadours Mischief Brew celebrate their fifteenth year not with a champagne toast, but by barreling into the bar and slamming down This Is Not For Children, their fourth studio album and debut on Alternative Tentacles Records. Recorded at Permanent Hearing Damage by Steve Roche—who recorded many of the band’s early releases including "Songs From Under the Sink"—it breathes and bleeds a tough spirit that could only have been born in the streets, bars and empty warehouses of Philadelphia, PA. Songs about everything from squatting to baseball to horror director William Castle (which is how the album gets its name).

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released June 22, 2015

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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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