Reprobates - Stress EP

Stress EP

He packs his brain into his lunch bag
His wife is like a waitress
She dresses him
Feeds him coffee and aspirin
Warms up the car
Fuels the cancer in his life

His hands begin to tremble
As he stares down from the ledge
And watches the ants marching below

He is a quiet man
His sense of hope is gone

Under his cracking shell
He is a walking bomb

Their words are like knives
Under his skin
His vision is blurred
Can't see the shit he's in

(His) body is failing
(His) brain is sore
He feels the tension build
And can't take it anymore

He starts the car
His mouth tastes the smell

Exhaust fills the air
His brain begins to swell

As he sits in traffic
And spirals out of control
In the back of his mind
He sees the gallows pole

Last words from
This quiet man
Are "when they take me down
I'll bring as many of them
with me as I can"

He was a quiet man
Not anymore.

Rat Maze
I Get up every morning
At quarter after six
Get on the subway (and) make my way
Past hundreds of fucking dicks

Walk up the subway step
To the scum-polluted street
Take the elevator up to my coffin
Wipe on a smile and take my seat

I sit here all day, at my desk...
Writing the same words on the screen
"Kill my boss. Kill my friends. Kill my fucking family."

Sitting here, at my desk
I can't take the monotony
I want to strangle myself with this tie on my neck
It's the only noose I need

My boss acts like he's my best friend
But this fucking job is a dead end

If I have to take one more day of my asshole boss
I swear I'm gonna snap
He acts like he wants me to change his diaper and
Put him down for a nap

We all eat shit to make our rent
'Cause somebody's gotta pay
So I sell my time for less than it's worth
Come out with nothing at the end of the day

I'm gonna sit here like a robot
And type my actions on the screen:
"Kill my boss. Leave a bloody mess.
Destroy his fucking company."

Trapped in this rat maze
I get six hours of sleep and work twelve hour days

I've had enough of this fucking shit
(My) resignation letter reads "Fuck you, I quit!"

Line your ducks up in a row
Inventory of what you owe
Your worth is based on an ideal
But you can't feel what isn't real

Enjoy the view while it lasts
Step on those with less
The only thing you'll feel is stress...

Waste your days
under the ribs of death
Company man until your last breath
Crumbling walls in your
mansion of doubt
Forcing you to live without

Clotheslined by the changing age
Can't escape the mess
The only thing you'll feel is stress...

Eulogy written on a
career of commitment
What counts to them
is how much time you've spent

Abandoned City
Abandoned hopes, abandoned dreams
The wreckage splitting at the seams
Our once bright past, we try to ignore
The golden age's open sores

You can't stop progress
This is progress
You can't stop progress
'Cause this is progress

It's boarded up, it's desolate
Wasted lives we try to forget
All that's left, the bitter taste
Of better times, now human waste

You can't stop progress
This is progress
You can't stop progress
'Cause this is progress

The future's so bright,
it's what they say
They tried so hard
but now it just wastes away

Living in a dead world
Living in a wasteland
There's nothing left for me
But the rotting corpse of society

You can't stop progress
This is progress
You can't stop progress
'Cause this is progress

We tried so hard, now it's decay
Our proudest work just wastes away
These are surely modern times
Our lives are falling between the lines

Gone to Shit
Get a Job and live a lie
Set my clock: 9 to 5
Co-workers are full of it
Hate my life, it's gone to shit

I'm waiting... for something
To black out the end of my days
If I can't sleep
I'll Just collar my conscience
And blow it the fuck away

Boss is telling me to stay
I've pissed away another day
Wish I had the balls to quit
I hate my life, it's gone to shit

I've got, no motivation
I've got no self-control

My life is suicidal
I've got no self control
My life's a living hell
I've got no self control

From now until the day I die
I'll watch my life pass me by
Listen to the clock tick?
I'd rather suck a dog's dick

My life is suicidal
I've got no self control
I'm fucked, and I don't care

STRESS was recorded live-off-the-floor in one day.
All music and lyrics by Reprobates.
Mastering by Dan Randall from Mammoth Sound Mastering: http://mammothsoundmastering.com
Cover art was drawn by the very talented Ryan Trudeau: www.myspace.com/sweepandclear
Special Thanks to: Brandon and Lauren, Dan Randall, and anyone who has hooked us up with shows.
Very special thanks to Luke Stackhouse for being booze, drugs, partying, and good tunes all wrapped up in a human being.

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