Rough Patch

by Propeller

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1.
01:55
2.
01:58
3.
02:48

about

Our debut studio release.
Recorded by Joe Hewitt at the Brain Studios and SAE, Sydney.
Mastered by Alan Douches, West West Side Music, New York.
Artwork by Ben Tubbs.

credits

released February 17, 2014

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all rights reserved

about

Propeller Sydney, Australia

sydney/canberra post-whatever.

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Track Name: Fuzz
Take a minute and throw off that dirty look,
You can't pull that shit on me punk, I wrote the book.
Hang your head down low and stare right at the ground,
The cops don't get me down, get me down, get me down.

So your mum's not home and your dad is M.I.A.
All so useless, what's the world come to these days?
You little punk, you little jerk, I could've stayed in bed.
The fuzz, the fuzz, the fuzz ahhh.

What you doing out so late on a Wednesday night?
Kid you know better than to be looking for a fight.
You got no rights, you got no name and you're a thief,
The cops will take you down, take you down, take you down.

Throw you in a room with a table and a chair,
Blood and shit matted in clumps of your hair.
"I don't know nothing, I don't know nothing, I swear."
The fuzz, the fuzz, the fuzz ahhh.

The fuzz.
Track Name: Girlfriends
I had a girlfriend, she had a girlfriend too.
I sold her a joint, she told me her point of view.
She lived in her head, she was watching my every move.
She knew I'd fuck up, but I knew she would too.

She went and fucked her, she went and fucked her on my bed.
I still slept there, still slept in the skin you shed.
You think I don't care? Well yeah, I never did.
Every minute with you I wished I was fucking dead.
Track Name: Seventeen
Well I feel alright, I've been feeling this way
Since that week last summer when it felt like May
And I know that I don't know nothing at all
In a rut, throwing up at the back of the mall.

And the girls, they all wanna hold my hand
Is it just cause I'm broke and I'm in a band?
Cause I'm feeling sick of this dick routine
Guess that's what it's like when you're seventeen.

And now I'm moving somewhere where I just don't fit
And I just can't shake it and I feel like shit
Now my time's growing thin, gotta pack my bags,
Gotta go somewhere where the time don't drag, ahhh.

It's too late for the skin we've sewn,
Cause our veins have already shown.
The hearts and hands we hold,
It's all become our home.