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Ten Shots Plus a Promise

by Andy Leeming

supported by
Justin Wilson
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Justin Wilson Very dynamic, well written acoustic numbers. Favorite track: Nothing at All.
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1.
You grab a hoodie and what’s left of the vodka on your way out the house. The screen door slams behind you and I drown out the cries from your mother with the cheap roar of a 13 year old four cylinder. It’s 8:30. I grab your hand and squeeze white knuckle tight as the trees disappear behind us. On the radio, Credence Clearwater Revival protests a 40 year old war we’re too young to understand. It’s ok. We understand it now at 80 mph to Yorktown. There’s a smell of our swamp town seeping through the open windows and a slow repetition of white house brown house to either side and three missed calls from the factory to fire me and it all makes sense - I just have to get there faster. 90 mph to Yorktown to fight the British naval fleet, armed only with a bottle of vodka and a few golf clubs in the trunk, the sun setting behind us, shadows gaining. Hushed cries from the lonely muddled in the turbulence of two kids - reckless and true, heartbeat steady and sunshine on mind, who aligned depression with solitude and the British Empire and checked “none of the above.” We made the sun shine down forever - never idle, never sober, always crashing over the guard rails of the mind into those beautiful ravines we see but never touch. 9:30 and Yorktown is covered with gunpowder smoke. The air thick and black and cold, we huddle on the beach with the vibrations of the National Anthem riding the surf. The night impaled us, but not before ten shots plus a promise - that if we died tonight at Yorktown our skeletons would be found smiling in defiance.
2.
Yorktown 03:57
Hey Dad, I think I finally know who I am. It only took 21 years to finally form a plan and all my heroes are crashing beneath the weight of my heart and if the mountain I’m standing on falls I’ll build it up again. I sat down on the beaches of Yorktown and wrote down a song and it’s About how I wish that I was alive back in 1776 Because the 21st century is popping pills to distract from its ADD When all it really needs is a revolution and a good night’s sleep And when I drift off A voice rings in my ears and it says: Welcome to the summer of your life, kid The world will cut you open like a knife, kid There’s something happening here What it is is entirely clear all The kids have their hands raised in a fist They’ve decided it’s high time to start giving a shit I think its time we Take arms against apathy Overrun the boredom on a living spree Speak every word like it’s a prophecy Of the coming times when everybody agrees And when I drift off A voice rings in my ears It says: Welcome to the summer of your life, kid The world’ll cut you open like a knife, kid Unless you choose to put up a fight, kid So smile in defiance and ignite, kid
3.
I’m going back to The person I was certain I would be When I was 8 years old Ill turn my back to What’s pulling me apart at night And be honest free and golden young and bold And everyone should know. I made a promise To drive your hearse from the river to the sea On what I’m sure will be a sunny day. I’d sing the best songs Loud enough for the both of us Cause I know you would want it that way. We’d get there in an afternoon in June And I’d sit alone in the sand. I’d wake you up from your early grave and tell you - Josh you’re not dead you’re just trying to behave And goddamn it’s a beautiful day You’ve got so much left to say And hey man we’re not goin out that way. I’m going back to The nights spent screaming Thunder Road When heaven and hell were painted on the moon. Just two dudes who Ran right out of fucks to give and we’re Not re-stocking any time soon We were the kings of After hours, Whiskey sours, Thunder showers, Carrot flowers I made a promise To write to you after you had gone On what I’m sure will be a cloudy day I’ll tell you all about Life back in America It hasnt changed much since you went away. I’m going back to The person I was certain I would be When I was 8 years old I’ll turn my back to What’s pulling me apart at night And be honest free golden young and bold I thought you ought to know And this transatlantic drunken dial was just to say That goddamn it’s a beautiful day We’ve got so much left to say.
4.
pictures of your mother in high school on the wall the war’s raging out there but the tabloids are moving on and you were standing on the porch on a Sunday in the jeans that make you look American and spirited and free and the light through the star spangled banner caught your eyes and the promise of a country, though magnificent in size manifested itself for a moment in your smile hands in your pockets you’ve been smoking for a while and joy to the memory of late 2006 when we ran out to the woods behind your house to get our kicks and some would get their kicks off a table through their nose and others got their kicks through the webs in their toes we had it all – the poetry and prose of the world I suppose and we’ve been struggling with religion I guess it comes with the age eternal salvation with the rest stuck in a cage, we turned the page there’s no cure for the human condition we agreed not the prescription for Prozac I won’t acknowledge that I need but you take me by surprise and make me feel like a man in the middle of a country full of reasons why I can’t and next to that everything else feels like nothing nothing nothing nothing at all
5.
There were gangs of summer boys Riding bikes on Wythe Creek each and every day Crashing into night and noise, The second born of the Chesapeake Bay They smoked their first cigarettes Down on Messick Point in the labyrinth of night They got mixed up in themselves And under bed sheets they began to write They found a hub for disenfranchised souls At harbor espresso And played music on the open mic Pouring out the angst and the soul And the boys got behind wheels gunning down Magruder Speedway Just outside of town Watch for a moment and they’ve sped away Bull Island Was a breeding ground for punks ‘Cause they got fed up With the racist drunks They defined themselves collectively With antagonistic expertise And scraped it on the bathroom wall Suburban brat ideologies And your living in the moment Wrapped up in the books so long That you studied wide eyed in the night And quoted in your songs And a girl catches your eyes Laughing quietly with her friends and then she’s everything that you think about And everyone knows it so don’t pretend that its not true Bull Island Was a breeding ground for punks ‘Cause they got fed up With the racist drunks They defined themselves collectively With antagonistic expertise And scraped it on the bathroom wall Meet me in October under the Festival lights I’ll let you wear my sweater We can do anything you like As long as we’re together Come with me down to the bay Ill sit in the sand with you And feel the wind between our bodies Ill kiss you if you want to Make a pact with me that we Will never be like the rest Bored and old and half asleep And probably depressed Let’s make it out of here And to a city in the west 'Cause no one understands us here We are living life repressed
6.
I’m still writing songs for kids who have yet to give a shit about society and all of it the waiting room for retirement and you can pledge yourself to gasoline chase the sun for years in your dad’s machine but it’s setting every night and a last chance power drive is too expensive in this economy I keep going back to the giving tree no taking chances, just sacrifices no teenage dreams, just compromises and it’s easy to bitch and mourn over that which I cannot afford and my bratty self-entitlement is embarrassing, but it doesn’t cost a cent I’m still writing songs for kids who have yet to give a shit about the economy and all of it I’d burn my money but I can’t afford it so I’ll sail with my friends oversees to where middle fingers are currency we won’t have cell phones or industries just a ravenous bunch of middle finger bookies I only need a little change this pack of cigarettes is twenty cents out of range can you give me some change? last night you woke me up at three screaming you had won the lottery you said that you would share it all with me so we had ourselves a burning spree shut up about my credit score I know I’m poor, but this fire’s kind of warm
7.
8.
Running Away 03:28
I’m the kind of guy who believes that there are two kinds of people in the world those who read and those who write the book of the world summer’s turning into fall and I’m hopeless the leaves are turning brown and falling down and most days I choose to be sedated to the ticking clocks in space, or the ghosts that haunt this place, and the sad look on your face when I told you that I’m running away I’m running away though there’s so many reasons to stay, I think it’s time I wrote a page Derek’s been coming over all of the time he’s a punk through and through his eyes are foggy with dreams of high fives and stage dives and good times with good dudes he’s measured out his life with coffee spoons and he’s a bastard smoking just as much as me but he’s bored to death with Virginia and he’s past all debate, it’s gonna be Washington state, and I think to myself fucking great but he’s running away he’s running away try to give him one reason to stay and if you spend your days wishing you were somebody else then it gets harder each day to maintain your sense of self and if you’ve lost all hope and drink to survive take some time to figure out why it’s so good so be alive.
9.
I was born in ‘89 in Massachusetts in the summer. My parents moved me to Virginia when I was eight years old And I grew up slowly and my momma told me, “son The world will break your heart.” And I didn’t know it then, but she was right Right from the start. And I cut down every cherry tree And I lied about it through my teeth Washington was a better man than me. And a penny saved is not much at all I’ve nothing to my name Nothing at all to call my own. But my soul was stretching in every direction And you in fear of love’s rejection You asked me for my protection And I met your love with an erection. And I knew your voice I learned to love the sound To save a wretch like me from underground It’s just a metaphor for being drunk downtown Started looking for where the angels are You said “they must be somewhere - they can’t be far.” And you rolled your eyes when I told you they’re in my car. But if you drive west straight in a line, The sun will stop - you can freeze time January first, 2009 - the day when your love Was completely mine So we close out eyes and sign the declaration Of independence from this nation It won’t be long before they come To stamp us out and shut us up. They’ll have our heads for this - We’re convicts, you and me, And we know peace ain’t so sweet It’s worth chains and slavery They’ll have our heads for this - We’re convicts, you and me, And we better hang together, ‘cause it beats hanging separately.
10.
Scars 02:26
It’s not insane to blame your bad mood on the rain You hate the fact that lovers seem to wax and wane At breakneck speeds too fast to take a mental picture You don’t remember anything Your heart worn on your sleeve and beating fast Gave off a glow too desperate for it to last I think of you sometimes that way and wince a little So help me forget the past And underneath the scars there is An angel suffocated by the Close air in the bars And the daily medication You took pills seven days a week And mom took pills seven days a week And Betty takes pills in her night gown And I took pills to calm me down You took pills seven days a week And mom took pills seven days a week And Betty takes pills to stay awake And I take pills so I can fall asleep And there’s a battle underneath your skin Most days it seems you just cant win But I’ve seen that look and I’ve seen that grin It tells me that some day you’ll shed the Weight of all that holds you down and you’ll be yourself again
11.
Adults 04:21
you didn’t think id make it up to DC it's been a while since we had cussed over coffee its so hard to explain when you call how things have been i've been at war with this year and Im afraid to say I cant win but I try and I try and I try and I try to feel alive and get by and stay high on the times after the long drawn out goodbye so there I am corner seat reeking of pabst thinking my best years had slipped from my grasp a junkie romantic shooting up nostalgic smack you go down that road kid you’re never coming back and the sad part of it is that lately you’ve been just a telephone and a reason its hard to stay positive we used to sit back to back in the sunrise dreaming up a neverender of passing statelines and in those dreams we never compromised so dont compromise. one day i'll write the story about you and me only 2 copies sold book of the century 'cause I wanna believe that our lives are interesting enough to talk about that we are dynamic characters in an interwoven plot that’s far from done so he stumbles through the streets singing old songs to strangers who the hell thought we were ready to be graduates? and its so hard to explain when you call how things have been been at war with the drag and im afraid to say I cant win
12.
im singing as loud as yesterday and though my voice is giving out after years of abuse and packs a day ill keep screaming like ive got something to say and the gaslights keep coming on, and were all loosely hanging on like theres nothing wrong I blew my paycheck on alcohol like there’s nothing wrong but my hearts still in what I write and my eyes burn in the dark please convince me its worth my time and I know I am a guy whose position on the punk to poser spectrum was disappointing in its prime im no cooler than you but that’s just fine but I keep holding on to my high hopes for this generation but im too scared to stand for anything ‘cept self preservation if everything’s dripped in irony then how the hell can we agree and show the world the range of what the form can be? so shut up and make history you think you’re running out of time and the rate getting older seems exponential as your 20s pass you by as long as love is on your mind then the jaws of time recede and you can close your eyes and your standing next to me let’s keep drinking from that well while it’s still free but I keep holding on to my high hopes for this generation its getting cold out in the periphery of the teenage wasteland and sincere as you may be, however calmly that you sleep there’s no fire for you to feed, and there’s seldom company if you’ve got the balls to dream
13.
Tonight I’m going out with my friends Ten bright eyes on fire with a plan We’re eighty percent nirvana But one of us is sad again I told you I couldn’t hang out yesterday Sometimes I feel like my time is drifting away But I still think about that day late last semester When we told each other stories and talked ourselves to death or That time we fantasized about when our lives were over And not surrendering to certainty and never going sober No I cant give up That hundred proof burn and the bite The wrecking crew’s alive and awake Tonight And I spent my time in a daze December through June The highlights of my days Were the late afternoons when you’d Call me and say that it was all going down And then I’d crack a smile under The soft street lights of downtown And it goes without saying I think we can agree That life is best when singing To a drunken symphony Of all these Springsteen coated Sentiments and defiant poetry That we read in our textbooks And dream of as we sleep So we dance down Main Street Our rebel yell stuck in repeat And end it all with a question That brings us to our knees “Where the hell do we go from here?” No I cant give up That hundred proof burn and the bite The wrecking crew’s alive and awake Tonight Sunday morning is so bittersweet it’s a sin We’ll do it again.
14.
ill kill anyone who dares to look at you and ill kill anyone who thinks they love you like I do this relationship is amplifying my antisocial behavior I’ve joined the ranks of crack addicts and public masturbators to be locked in my room with the blinds drawn nothing but Dostoevsky and love poems waiting for a call but you never call has it been long enough to call? and ill kill anyone whose nice at all to you and ill kill anyone who knew you back in high school if hes got a better job than me if hes got a faster car than me if hes got a bigger cock than me if he’s got more songs on his ep if he wears skinnier jeans than me if he takes himself too seriously if hes got more facebook friends than me if hes everything I want to be ill kill him so ill kill everyone that way I wont have to worry and you can kill everyone that way you wont have to worry this relationship is amplifying my antisocial behavior I’ve joined the ranks of crack addicts and public masturbators to be locked in my room with the blinds drawn nothing but Dostoevsky and love poems waiting for a call but you never call has it been long enough to call? have I not proven my devotion to you? ive killed all my friends and some relatives too and sure as roses are red and violets blue I killed em all for you ;)
15.
you swear you’re moving out next week prospective jobs down by the beach you say you’re cutting off your hair and going vegan on a dare and nobody knows what you’re trying to say and I read all your stuff- it’s a little cliché you point out my hypocrisy as you steep your herbal tea I’m draped in plaid and listening to neon bible on repeat and I still don’t know what I’m trying to say and nobody knows what I’m trying to say we’ve had a lot of time to sit around and think about society the crowds of people who don’t see the world in all of its suffering but all our money goes to bikes and vinyl 80 dollar skinny jeans so we could not afford to give a single cent to any charity I like dubstep ironically and I do molly in my sleep it’s been so trendy not to care good thing we’ve apathy to spare but nobody knows what we’re trying to say or maybe we don’t know what we’re trying to say

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released March 21, 2013

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Andy Leeming Blacksburg, Virginia

acoustic out of hampton roads

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