"Hostile, Mass." lyrics
A knockoff necktie
The way he wore it made it look more like a tourniquet
I looked deep in his eyes
I saw Lynn, Massachussetts
She hung a sleeveless dress up on a sleeved up lifestyle
Girl you gotta cover that
He was gushing blood from wide open wounds
And she decided that she loved him
They put the screws into Charlemagne
He had a detox dream he saw Christ in all his glory
Charlemagne didn't feel any pain
But he's bleeding from the holes in his story
He said, "Hey my name is corey.
I'm really into hardcore. People call me Hard Corey."
Don't you hate these clever people
And all these clever people parties
In the park drinking Dark Bacardi
Thinking things are funny when they really ain't that funny
The kids on the corner they keep getting stung
The color of our teeth matches the color of our tongues
In the back bay fens getting gentle
Up against the fence with some guy who looks like Mickey Mantle
Dirty minds keep coming thru the mud
The color of their eyes matches the color of our blood
He had a painters cap, it said "Panama Jack"
It had the flaps on the back that kept the sun off his neck
He woke up deep in Hostile, Massachussetts
Reaching out to try to touch the special effects
He had no shoes and no pants
And they dressed him in a shirt with a collar and called him Porky Pig
The two of you went up to his room
Later on you wouldn't admit you did
Seeing lousy movies but only for the A/C
Skimpy little outfits and bad guys acting crazy
That's how I know when you're lying
It looks just like overacting
Kids on the corner are cracking and caving in
Turning over and turning other kids in
I never want to make you feel uncomfortable
I hope I never did
They met as kids he was angry and angsty
Yeah, she was a damned good dancer
I'll be damned if they didn't disappear
Wandered out of mass one day and faded into the fog and love and faithless fear.
Charlemagne in sweatpants and you and me in Hostile, Massachussetts
The way he wore it made it look more like a tourniquet
I looked deep in his eyes
I saw Lynn, Massachussetts
She hung a sleeveless dress up on a sleeved up lifestyle
Girl you gotta cover that
He was gushing blood from wide open wounds
And she decided that she loved him
They put the screws into Charlemagne
He had a detox dream he saw Christ in all his glory
Charlemagne didn't feel any pain
But he's bleeding from the holes in his story
He said, "Hey my name is corey.
I'm really into hardcore. People call me Hard Corey."
Don't you hate these clever people
And all these clever people parties
In the park drinking Dark Bacardi
Thinking things are funny when they really ain't that funny
The kids on the corner they keep getting stung
The color of our teeth matches the color of our tongues
In the back bay fens getting gentle
Up against the fence with some guy who looks like Mickey Mantle
Dirty minds keep coming thru the mud
The color of their eyes matches the color of our blood
He had a painters cap, it said "Panama Jack"
It had the flaps on the back that kept the sun off his neck
He woke up deep in Hostile, Massachussetts
Reaching out to try to touch the special effects
He had no shoes and no pants
And they dressed him in a shirt with a collar and called him Porky Pig
The two of you went up to his room
Later on you wouldn't admit you did
Seeing lousy movies but only for the A/C
Skimpy little outfits and bad guys acting crazy
That's how I know when you're lying
It looks just like overacting
Kids on the corner are cracking and caving in
Turning over and turning other kids in
I never want to make you feel uncomfortable
I hope I never did
They met as kids he was angry and angsty
Yeah, she was a damned good dancer
I'll be damned if they didn't disappear
Wandered out of mass one day and faded into the fog and love and faithless fear.
Charlemagne in sweatpants and you and me in Hostile, Massachussetts
Writer(s): Craig Finn, Tad Jason Kubler
