All I've Got's Your CD

from by Big Happy Crowd

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lyrics

ALL I'VE GOT'S YOUR CD

We were 15 when her mom passed out
As we watched from the pool
Drunk on cherry Kool-Aid and wine
Then she pulled me into her living and as a single puddle formed
We kissed so hard I could taste her blood and mine

Then she locked the door dropped her bathing suit
I dropped to my knees
Every inch of her tasted just like chlorine
Perhaps that's why I keep this job cleaning people's pools
The smells of all these chemicals do not bother me

Well I'd like to ask a question
But I don't think you want to speak to me
For a moment there, didn't I feel you breathing?
It's hard to tell cause all I've got's your CD

She walked from graduation to her car and headed north
Left her cap and gown at a rest stop on the state line
She showed up in a decade with the hit song of the nation
Change her name, she cut her age
She led the latch-key generation

Her shtick was pissed and cynical and we all felt that way
Integrity was her advice, kids bought all the merchandise
In articles she's quoted she felt dead through out her youth
She was hated and ignored
Did she forget our time on the floor?

I'd like to ask a question
But I don't think you want to speak to me
Do you separate the facts from all the bullshit?
It's hard to tell cause all I've got's your CD

Last night my machine was flashing with a message
Some girl muttered "Ah shit" and hung up
In the background were the sounds of a dinner or a truck stop
So I waited for a call back

Maybe I'm a sucker hung up on his brush with fame
Like my uncle, he drove a tank for Patton
But I swear that you once swore
You loved the boy who lived next door
And I think that counts for something, but I'm not really sure

credits

from Folk & Feedback*, released September 6, 2016
................................

Written by Rich Grula (Big Happy Tunes / BMI)

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Big Happy Crowd Hoboken, New Jersey

Big Happy Crowd is a Hoboken-based band exploring a skewed version of "Americana," customized with touches of lo-fi, alt- country, antifolk, old-timey death ballads, folk-rock, drones, surf music and cranky Tin Pan Alley swing. Their catalog usually falls between the bookends of lust and discomfort. ... more

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