Vince the Neon Shark - guitar, vocals
The Pepperoni Pony - bass, vocals
Piece of Shits - drums, vocals, guitar
Courteous Roots - solo on Growin' Down
The Vox Gang - Mike "Rogers", Alisha Harrity, Birdo, Eazy Fuckin' Breeze, Douglas "Doodles" Anderson, Rudy Windsor, Joey-Beth Shaw, Denise D, Gavin Downes, Chris Grey
Chair Sax and Key Sax on "The Death of Jazz" by The S. Boyer and G.R Carter International Jazz Duo Orchestra
Recorded February 2014-2015 @ Studio Space by S. Boyer
Mixed February-April 2015 @ Studio Boytimes by S. Boyer
Cover photo by Sidney Foy
Album photos by Tim Pfinder
Additional photos by G. Carter and D. Anderson
Layout and design by S. Boyer
Duplication by Reg @ Put it on CD, Dartmouth, NS
Special Material by Steven C. Zaionz & Dave Boyer
Management by "Slutty" Bruce Parks @ Jimmy Flipflop Entertainment LLC
Ha! A sentimental cough. I wear a bra to school when I'm jerking off. You've got a job? I've got a fucking career! Of stealing old ladies money and drinking beer. But when I'm cold, I don't need a blanket. Just a warm snort of Kelly's and a bank machine heat vent. Do what I want and don't give a fuck to survive. I'm a mutant with a gun and I'm born to die.
Track Name: Satan's Got Your Back
End of the season something's going wrong. In comes Jesus with his crown of thorns. Sign up, and climb a flight of shit. But end up laying in a fucking ditch. Fall back and spend your tainted token. Then you end up learning that bank machine's broken. Keep on drinking, you don't need to win. Spending your whole life thinking there is a reason to live. But just keep on drinking something is bound to crack. Don't worry child... Satan's got your back. He's got your money, you can't win. Fuck that shit and grab a gun, man. Who cares what they want just pick a mall and spin. Then keep on shooting till the piggies come in! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck I'm dead. Spent my whole life thinking there was a reason to live. But just keep on drinking, something's bound to crack. Don't worry child... Satan's got your back.
Track Name: Smell It
A clenched fist like a stranger trying to control my rage. But you are the first fuck in seven years to rattle my cage. That’s in the past, it’s over and no one cares what you say. You are bullshit darling and you wondered why there’s no chase? I’m gone but I ain’t done; my stink will never leave this place. And all that stupid shit you say I did won’t ever change your face. It’s my choice, it’s my pride and to be your bitch I’d rather die. So that’s enough, now I’m gone, you lost your chance. It’s old news, run over, still no one cares anyway. But the gift of existence can be your saving grace. But while you threaten and scream till you are blue in the face. I’m still living baby while yer floating in the bay. Well, I’m not perfect and I’ve done some shit. But if life was all about living in the past, I’d be bleeding in a fucking ditch.
Track Name: Candy Man
Candyman in his unmarked van. He lets me eat all that I can and it don’t cost a cent. I love the candyman, he gives me candy! We hit the road, my parents don’t know where I am and I don’t give a piss, I’m eating lots of candy. I love the candyman, he gives me candy! I said I love you candyman, now where’s my candy! Don’t want potatoes. Go fuck your meat. If it ain’t dipped in sugar then I ain’t gonna eat it. And when I grow up and I’m a man. I’m gonna be, be, bebebebebebebebebe... A CANDYMAN!
Track Name: Thorley's Meats
Hey boys come in out of the cold. I got some stew cooking on the stove. Go ahead, fill up a bowl. Watch the meat fall off the bones. Every Thorley likes to eat meat. Work hard every day of the year. A man needs a brake. Happy Thanksgiving, my sweet child. Would you like some steak? That’s what I’m having. Every Thorley likes to eat meat. I killed a cow. I killed a piggy. I killed a fox that ate my chickens. I chop ‘em up and I put ‘em on the grill. There’s nothing in this life that tastes better than a fresh kill.
Track Name: I Don't Care About Target
I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care about target!
Track Name: Disingredients
I’m gonna puke on you girl and you know there’s nothing that you can do now. I’ve been drinking all day long and the poison in my belly is about to erupt. Oh yeah. Oh no. Alright. Watch out here comes that vomit volcano. I’m gonna piss in you girl and you know there’s nothing that you can do now. Because I’m already inside you and I’m not even remotely erect. Oh yeah. Oh no. Alright. Hold tight here comes my pissy load. I can’t control my bodily functions and I don’t even know why I should. It’s so much fun spraying you with my puke and piss and maybe some feces too.
Track Name: Fixin' My Bone
I’m gonna get what I want. So don’t you go fucking with me you slob. I’m gonna have it my way. You can cry to your grammy but she don’t give a fuck anyway. Trying to act like she’s yours? Well I’m the one getting all of her worth. And you think you’ve got lots of dirt? I sold my soul to the devil and I get what I deserve. Now yer on your computer at home. While I’m drinking at the bar fixing my bone. Cranking to her pictures in bed. But I’m farting and I’m drooling while she’s giving me head. I said... Then you text and get no reply. Thinking that she’s out with some other guy. But yer wrong, she’s with me. Oh, and I wiped my ass with those panties you left last week...
Track Name: Frig Oui
Sunday morning, 3am. Je regarde Bleu Nuit, sur ma tv. Frig oui. Whatcha doin’ tonight, you sexy loser? I’m gonna do myself, I’m watching Bleu Nuit. Frig oui. Looking back on my life it’s plain to see. My first true love was Bleu Nuit. Frig oui. Now you’re lying breathless wondering, how did I ever make you piss like that? Countless hours of research, mon cherie. How do you think I learned to lift up the flap. Frig oui. Pas regarde Rouge Shoe Diaries. Pas regarde Neuf et Demis Weeks. Pas regarde any other sexy tv, baby. Unless they air it on Bleu Nuit. Frig oui.
Track Name: The Brier
The rock glides across the pebbled ice. Puny defences. You watch me curl right by. I’m at the Brier. There’s nothing higher. You have no chance. It is my destiny to win. I am your skip. You listen to me. When I say sweep, you better sweep. Go down to Grammy’s, watch me on tv. You stink of Tinny’s cobblee. You know she loves me best.
Track Name: Snowbly
I waited up all night, but you weren’t around. I went sniffing through your bedroom. You were nowhere to be found. I looked under the bed; you weren’t there. I looked up the hallways and down the stairs. I opened all the cupboards and the frigidaire, but there was nothing but crackers and a can of beer. Oh Snowbly, where were you last night? I went on down to the supermarket. And I drew a picture of your face on every single milk carton. Bichon Frise. I called all the hospitals to see if you were sick in some bed. I went snooping ‘round that spooky old graveyard just to make sure you’re not dead. Oh no. Snowbly please come home. Baby won’t you come home. You’re my only boy. You’re my golden boy. Oh Snowbly, why won’t you come home my little puppy doggy. If you ain’t Snowbly, you’re nobly.
Track Name: Two-head Boy
My momma told me I was born with two heads. Only one head lived so I ate the dead one, yes I did. I ate the dead head hanging off my neck, it was no use to me. I got a scar, looks just like a purple slug, I call it brother.
I'm shaking in my pants. It's time to fucking dance. So don't come to our show with your self control. Because the girls are dressing tight. And the homeboys know it’s right. So leave your stupid art school shit at home. Tonight's the fucking night we're gonna rock and roll. The Devil gave me choice, so I'll save your soul. Yeah! We don't need to fight. We'll drink until it's light. And I ain't got no time for growing old. Come on now all you kids. It's time to join the fold. We've got all you need for keeping cold. But you better hold your lady tight, cause she might just think it's time to leave your whiney bearded ass at home.