The Carrot Chase

by The Bell Beat

The Carrot Chase cover art
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about

Web: www.thebellbeat.com
Contact: band[at]thebellbeat[dot]com

credits

released 17 July 2007

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tags: rock alt.country folk folk.rock indie indie.pop indie.rock michigan Detroit

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"Sliding through any of [The Bell Beat's] shimmering pop twirls is like having every tastebud tinged with a different delectable indie-rock sensibility from the past decade." - Jeff Milo

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Track Name: Flaking Friends
Maybe I should write about the obvious
Trying to live by the book gets us nowhere.
Settling in on your precious life
Flaking friends from your shoulders.

Maybe you should think this one over.

You know what, you can fuck off.

This drama queen romance only gets you so far.

Hugging enemies and pissing on friends
Where do you hope to go when you’re above the world.
Looking down at your creation to only notice we’re still spinning
Smiling, dancing, and laughing away
Having the time of the day
While your bitterness takes you so far away that no one cares.

You know what, you can fuck off.

“Who was that?” No one cares…
Track Name: Last Great Massacre
Here’s a story about this kid
Setting a path a bit different than the rest of us did.
His Daddy hit the bottle everyday, sometimes twice
When his son was just fifteen he took his life.
Climbing into high society
His Mom set a course for high esteem.
She gave her kid much affluence
Even bought him a guitar one Christmas.

He said, “Thanks Mom. I hear your pleas but I don’t care what you say ’cause I want to be…
The last great rock ‘n roll man
In the last great rock ‘n roll band.”

She pushed him into corporate life one like her own.
He disappeared one day without any calls back to home.
Moving around towns, convinced he was the best
Thought he was John Lennon before he even had a hit.
Started taking drugs and playing every instrument
Told everyone he talked to God about shit.

“And thy Lord said onto me that one day I will be…
The last great rock ‘n roll man
In the last great rock ‘n roll band.”

He was gonna start a revolution, was gonna get paid
If it wasn’t his way it could just fade away.
Ups and downs, and downs and outs,
The people around him wanted to know what this kid was really about.
They expected either a miracle or the devil to show his face
On stage, entertainment and riots were one in the same.

“Yeah, Listen man if you fuck with me I’ll kick you in the God damn teeth, ’cause I’m…
The last great rock ‘n roll man
In the last great rock ‘n roll band.”

The band broke up but you couldn’t convince him
He still trudged around committed to his revolution.
Everybody dropped it, turned their backs and minds away
“He’s just and arrogant prick. His petty fits will keep him stuck in one place.”
But as time goes by his legend grows,
We’ll never know if some kid walking through a record store

Will say, “Hey man look what I picked up today, what a find this guy was great. He was…
The last great rock ‘n roll man
In the last great rock ‘n roll band.”
Track Name: My Kicks
We’re supposed to think we know everything in our twenties
And nothing in our thirties.
I knew nothing then, nothing now, and everything never.
Everyone around me is so confident above their skin.
What happens when they’re alone drawing a bath?
Burning candles, toes curled around a great book
Blood drips from the night’s paper cuts and washes down the drain.

Only the face of the moon peers in
Hidden beneath thrift store finds, browns and grays,
Blacks and blues, with name brand tennis shoes.
Hidden beneath thrift store finds, browns and grays,
Blacks and blues, with name brand tennis shoes.

Watching punk rock shows with your arms crossed
Your movement barely visible
Eyes flashing around the room.
Reading the ironic tees, falling short of loss
Don’t you, no don’t you dare move forward.
Is your head still in the game?
Liquid courage in my stomach.
But my throat’s dry and mind is awry
I’m singing this song, despite my attempt, I’m just like you.

Catty and Batty wearing browns and grays,
Blacks and blues, with name brand tennis shoes.
Catty and Batty wearing browns and grays,
Blacks and blues, with name brand tennis shoes.
Track Name: If You Please
(I’ve grown so tired of your arrogant ways.)
Sitting, waiting, contemplating
Where the day will take your selfish play.
Bored of this and that always
Expecting the argument to stop at your debate.
Worried for your petty material
While the obvious suffering occurs.
So just crank up your stereo
And listen to some horrible sounds
Or a pointless song, just as this has become.

Yeah, you can take what you please, if you please.
Just take what you need, let’s make a deal.
You can take what you see, or what you need
Yeah, just take what you please.

(Knock knock, is there anyone there?)
Do you hear what I’m saying
Are you looking my way
Or are you just staring off into space
Thinking of what you crave?
Still bored after another day.
I can’t believe I believed what you’d say.
Duped into thinking too highly of you.
(You’ve) sunk so low,
There’s no promise you can keep.

Yeah, you can take what you please, if you please.
Just take what you need, let’s make a deal.
You can take what you see, or what you need
Yeah, just take what you please.
Track Name: The Brunt of Our Jokes
Your witty curve, from your hip to your pinkie toe.
Can’t help but admire the grace, in which you cross the room.
You don’t have to try it’s art, it’s kindness, it’s thrilling compassion.

Because you still have your curves
And I still have my admiration.

Trying not to cross, those who are cross
Little do they know they’re bearing the brunt of our jokes.
Without even entering the room.
We never demanded anything,
We were content with what was given to us.

Because you still have your curves
And I still have my admiration.

Those fuckers, shooting from the hip.
Both guns drawn, bullets whizzing by our ears.
Tackling little girls smarter than them.
Yeah, it’s frustrating, but at the same time, so satisfying.

Because you still have your curves
And I still have my admiration.
Track Name: Peaking From the Brim
My head is spinning my eyes are twisting
Focusing on three drops of beer
Evaporating on the table.
Why is it that everybody talks so damned loud?
Resentful, disgusted by everyone
That walks through the door.
Closing my eyes to snatch what’s left of my pride.
Why is it they all think this is their favorite song?

In a dive bar sipping the time away
I’m no virtuoso, I’m just coming to play
With only pennies in my hat.

And now my head is still flipping
Can’t close my eyes ’cause some jerk is spinning
I think, yeah it’s that guy in the corner
Behind a martini flirting with a waitress half his age.
Fifty dollar bills dripping from his pockets
Only pennies in my hat.
Sound check tripped me up
I’ll stumble through my quick set.

In a dive bar sipping the time away
I’m no virtuoso, I’m just coming to play
With only pennies in my hat.

Sandpaper in my throat by the second song.
The jerk keeps spinning away.
The bass is too loud, the tone is all wrong
Thank God there’s only one song left.
The waitress is gone, the jerk left his drink half full
Or maybe it was half empty?
What a time for philosophy.
Last chorus, room’s half empty or half full?

In a dive bar sipping the time away
My hat is empty, and Ulysses S. Grant
Is peaking from the brim.
Track Name: Apology
I don’t know and I don’t care
Why did you ask me here anyway?
Talking on your phone with a finger to your pulse.
Maybe I should just go.

Sitting at home watching you hurt yourself
Watching you break yourself
Watching you kill yourself.
Do you think I like to hear my voice?
Do you think I just want to write a song?
Do you think I’d like to sing along?
When really I just want to cry out loud
Why won’t you say the word?

I don’t know and I don’t care
Why did you ask me here anyway?
Screaming at my face trying to tear me down
How much more can I take? I’m gagged and bound.

Look at the tears streaming down your cheek
I want your eyes like a fountain that leaks
I want ‘em to flow I want to make you weak.
For all the shit you put me through
There’s not enough curses for you
Not that I won’t search them through.
We’ve been here for hours, so why don’t you
Just say the word?

I don’t know and I don’t care
Why did you ask me here anyway?
Talking on your phone with a finger to your pulse.
Maybe I should just go.

I don’t know and I don’t care
Why did you ask me here anyway?
Screaming at my face trying to tear me down
How much more can I take? I’m gagged and bound.
Track Name: LS
Watching basketball on the tube
Drinking a beer and feeling rude.
There’s a band playing in the other room
But no one is paying any mind.

Watching the cue smack the nine
And that pinball’s screaming line.
The lights are dancing to Wilco on the juke
It’s that song complaining about someone being out of line.

I used to come here with friends
We’d drink Irish whiskey and talk about the people we knew.
Laughing about stretching before punk rock shows
Reminiscing about playing Frisbee in graveyards.

These friends span the country now
But we make plans anyhow.
Maybe it’s because we’re all fans of a different sport
Maybe it’s all the songs we wrote.

I used to come here with friends
We’d drink Irish whiskey and talk about the people we knew.
Laughing about stretching before punk rock shows
Reminiscing about playing Frisbee in graveyards.
Track Name: The Crack of His Door
Driving for hours, down the interstate
We reached the top peninsula.
At a castle of rock,
The stairs reached up for hours.

An 8-year-old curled up with his pillow
Looking through the crack of his door.
His mom tilts her head back with a fingernail to her nose
She sniffs it up then does some more.

As I leaned against the railing
I pictured falling to the pines below.
If only Paul and Babe would share their plots with my child frame.
I leaned in but my shirt was hitched
It stretched taught around my neck and chest.
A distant breeze on my back.
I leaned in but my shirt was hitched
And the view was spectacular.

An 8-year-old curled up with his pillow
Looking through the crack of his door.
His mom tilts her head back with a fingernail to her nose
She sniffs it up then does some more.
Track Name: Red State Soil
Stamping ground in your red state soil
Pounding stakes in your Atlanta rail
I’ve come to realize that southern man was misguided.
Even if it’s his written right to be
No one sea-to-shining-sea is free
As free, as a bird.

As free as a bird, as free as a wingless bird.
The song you heard, was more than you could ever learn.
It was the southern man who said to me,
“Boy, you’re going to be free.
As free, as a bird.”

His land is his, hers is hers
They’re land is yours if greed plays your hand.
It was made for commons.
For you, and for me
As the litter flies from your window free
As free, as a bird.

As free as a bird, as free as a wicked bird.
The sound you heard, was more than you could ever learn.
It was the southern man who said to me,
“Boy, you’re going to be free.
As free, as a bird.”
Track Name: Come On Down
I’ll drive all night, up and down this town
I’m at the bottom of your stairs, come on down.
I’ll drive all night, and this ain’t no Cadillac
But Baby, baby why don’t you come on back?

I’ll drive all night, and this ain’t no Coupe de Ville
But join me in this seat, for a surefire thrill.
I’ll drive all night, all ahead is pitch black
Come on baby, take me back.

I’ll drive all night, blasting Lady Day
It’s times like these, we gotta meet halfway.
I’ll drive all night, down past those tracks
Baby, baby would you come on back?