Home Brew Lyrics
"55 Stories"

The street lights in the night look like moths from here
watch my spit skydive pop the top off a beer and reminisce
on times when skies were limitless and in the midst I wonder how
I ever got into this infinite twist,
and in that day I get lost, until I snap back where I left off.
My stressed boss and my desk job,
my ex-god and my dead dog, this is the best of.
Life can F-off I'm sick of living like this
while pretty city-siders sit there sippin ciders.
55 stories high I sit in silence
considering what my shitty city life symbolises.
The sky sympathises with a lightning flash
that lights up the nice bright life I might have had.

As I look to Avondale see my old lady's pad
and memories of my childhood that made me mad.
My old crazy dad and his brown paper bag
smacked up in the room next door playin' jazz.
Wishin' I could take a plane out the sky and make it crash
lookin' down at the world tryin' to find a place to land
prayin' I could take it back but I cant; I'm no magician.
Just a wishin' broke musician in this solar system of infinity.
And none of these stars have ever noticed me,
this moon don't want to grow on me and listen to my poetry.
And I could shout top of my lungs but I bet though,
the only thing I'm gonna hear back is an echo.
But maybe if I threw a rock then I'd get heard
or maybe I should tie that rock around my leg first.
'Cause nobody knows what I been through
on the edge of my ledge like 3..2..1.
Just another life wasted.
But shit maybe they'll notice me splattered on the pavement.
Amen.

The idea of having different characters to really get the storyline across
coming from one particular character
all the time makes to me the story boring.
Everything just flows better
when I got multiple characters to portray the story.

Walking through the night kicking puddles,
it's half-twelve but I cant tell dark clouds blacking all the stars out.
Deep down I'm feeling beat down,
I haven't slept in a week now maybe I'm asleep now.
Only thing I've eaten is that E I dropped
and the lemon from the tequila shot,
tell myself I need to stop drinking as I take the lid off my hip flask,
take a sip and wipe the whisky off my moustache.
Limp past the loners in the strip bars on Fort Lane,
feeling jealous of the bums sleepin' in the door ways.
Wish I had someone to sleep with
someone to be with
someone to share my twenty cent piece with.
Instead I throw it to that dude with the harmonica
'cause when he tips his hat at me
I feel like he's acknowledged my existence
and this is what it's like now days,
gotta pay to get an eyebrow raise.
Shit.

Fuck a friend I'd happy if I had an enemy
or just someone to bump into me accidentally.
I step to the left they step to the right
and we could do that for the rest of our lives.
And I don't even recognise my own reflection,
catch my eyes in the shop window: but there ain't no connection.
I guess that I ain't even someone I trust
maybe I should run in front of a bus.
So I take my seat up in the bus lane,
got my red Pumas on so they can hide the blood stains.
Take my last sip of Johnny Walker
as I hear the bus coming from around the corner.
And I'm counting time, ready to die
then out of nowhere someone drops out the sky.
Some guy tryin' to fly, 55 stories high,
and he's headed right for me like I'm the bullseye.