Dirty Microphones from Garbage Island by The Burning Hell

Sharing dirty microphones
With ska bands from the outer zones
Dancing in our plastic skirts
Trading kerosene for merch

Sleeping in your solar van
We had no worries and no plans
Driving through the night to play
A house show on the coast of Ohio

    Oh no, no no, don’t think about it
    It’s not like we can’t live without it
    It’s just music
    We used to play music

Showcased for five or six drunk kids
At South by Southwest ’56
In an abandoned Taco Bell
Got paid in chips and cowrie shells

Your mom gave me her old guitar
The one she bought before the war
The pickguard still had bits of blood dried on it
Your mom was the coolest

    These days, mostly, I don’t think about it, she says
    It’s not like I can’t live without it
    It’s just music
    We used to play music

God knows we never got anywhere
Although we went everywhere
It’s past curfew but the neighbours are away
Come down to the bunker I’ll set up the PA

Sharing dirty microphones
With ska bands from the outer zones

• Alternative
• Rock
• indie
• indie folk
• indie rock
• singer-songwriter
• Canada