“Bonus Tracks” by The Hold Steady

“Bonus Tracks” by The Hold Steady

May 17, 2019 0 By CPE

“Ask Her For Some Adderall”

If she wants to stop on by
Tell her that I almost died
Tell her I ain’t seein’ people yet
But see if she’ll send cigarettes

“Ask Her For Some Adderall”

If she asks just tell her that we opened for the Stones
It’s her favorite band except for the Ramones
If she happens to suggest
A love based on trust and respect
Tell her I’ve been wasted since last week

But see if she’ll send cigarettes

If she asks don’t tell her ’bout the bloodshed in the streets
The less she knows, the less she can repeat
If she happens to bring up
The pinpricks and the throwin’ up
Tell her it’s just part of growin’ up

Now Holly won’t say hi to me
Cause I’m in love with my anxiety

If she asks just tell her that we’re too far gone to deal
She should know exactly how that feels
If she wants a scene report
Don’t tell her ’bout the kicked in doors
Tell her we ain’t even keeping score no more
If she wants to help the cause
Tell her we need sterile gauze
Tell her she should look through all her medicine
And see if she’s got Klonopins

Now Charlemagne don’t seem the same
He’s skinny, scared, and off his game
He’s been hiding from those gentlemen
With the same tattoos as Gideon


“Cheyenne Sunrise”

Wipe that chip right off your shoulder
We ain’t getting any younger

“Cheyenne Sunrise”

When I left I wasn’t thinking
That I wasn’t coming home
But first Al Green and then Barry White
Convinced me not to go

And I didn’t come home for fighting
I came to bandage up my hand
And if you’re gonna talk to me like that
Then I’ll just go back out again

Wipe that chip right off your shoulder
We ain’t getting any younger
And some things are getting bigger
Some things are falling off

Some things they seem much harder
Some other things stay soft

We’re tipping over in the taprooms
We’re shooting through the ceiling
We’re dying in the bathrooms
And we’re living for that one sweet fleeting feeling

I know my cough sounds awful
Some nights it hurts a bit to breathe
But I’m glad it’s just my body
I do my business on the street

We ain’t getting any younger
Tomorrow night we’ll be that much older
Some kids are growing awkward
Some kids are going off

We’re fingering the punchbowl
We’re feeding from the trough

There’s nothing quite like a Cheyenne sunrise
To make us has-beens feel too old

Onward Christian soldiers
We’re gonna bash right through your borders
I bet your next party gets sketchy
I saw the new kids nodding off

Some things are getting bigger
Some things are falling off
Some things seem that much harder
Some other things stay soft


“Two-Handed Handshake”

I don’t think we’ll get the truth
From kids with stickers on their boots

“Two Handed Handshake”

He churns through the channels
When he’s watching the TV
He recites lines from movies
When he’s trying to be funny

Guys, it’s like we’re not even trying

Yeah, she danced with that one guy
She must know we’re watching
It seems like less people
Than were here just last weekend

She’s still pretty pissed
About her ex’s new trick
There were stares
And glares and names

Girls, you know you’re not really helping

I don’t think that you’ll find love
In some bathroom at some club
I know some kids who didn’t come back

We had First Ave. on Fridays
We’re pirates at port
We go in and we get high, 
Two at a time
We get drunk on the sports

We’re falling into bed 
With our television sets
We’re watching movies
That we’ve already seen

Guys, it’s like we’re not even trying

You dress like contestants
At some desparate paegent
You fall asleep in your makeup
You wake up with a blemish

You’re making up your mind
About the drinks after work
It’s such a gossipy office

Girls, you’re gonna find someone

You don’t have to rush it
You’re too young to force your crushes
You don’t have to rush it
You’re too young to fake your crushes

Oooh

Guys, I’m pretty sure that we can put it back together
And girls, you gotta try to be nice to one another

Guys, I’m pretty sure that we can put it back together
And girls, you gotta try to be nice to one another

I don’t think we’ll get the truth
From kids with stickers on their boots
I know some kids who didn’t come back
From the plywood painted black

We gotta try a little harder
We gotta be a little better
We gotta pull it back together

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