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by Short Hand

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Death at your door What can you do? You open the door And you let death through And say, “How are you?’ he says, “Fine, Thank you.” You say, “okay, good. Can I get you some juice?” Death nods his head, Death drinks his juice, Death wears a gown That is nearly see-through And you really want to And you’re wearing one too and you’re wearing one too. Death at your house Death on your couch What can you do But let death nap and you just sit there dumb and scared Death wakes up points at his cup Death at your door What can you do? You open the door And you let death through And say, “How are you?” he says, “Fine, Thank you. Any juice ?”
Moving at the speed of light is the right speed Moving at the speed of light is the right speed And you really want to make it And you really want to make it And you really want to make it All the love that you have for certain strangers All the love that you need from certain strangers Is stranger than any word, you’ve ever heard All the love that you need
I am a person I am a person Moving through the cold On my way home The snow begins to blow On my skateboard My nose is very cold On my skateboard I blow through this town I blow through this town My face is very cold I roll through this town On my skateboard On my skateboard Nothing can get me down Nothing can get me down Nothing can get me down I crawl through this town I want to be warm But I can't get warm I know I must try To live another life My wheels roll on Underneath my board I try to wrap myself Around my bones I try to wrap myself Around my bones
When I look inside of my mouth Deep inside my jaw In the hills of my teeth Lives a little tiny beast Yeah we'd break dance man we'd breakdance I'm talking 1983 In the middle of Indiana We were called little naggers Jason Mathias Eating dinner at your parents’ table You can name your children anything you want As long as it's Jason Mathias Skateboard man, we'd skateboard Anthrax “I’m the man" Suicidal Tendencies and Winter in between You got to speculate on the situation You've got to rethink what has changed The car garage and the car Are one and the same Jason Mathias In words that you can't speak You can say anything to the heathens at the stake Except for Jason Mathias And with my Jason Mathias With my Jason Mathias Everything is sloped toward something tape recorded Something young and fierce (brief) Let go, baby let go Get what you can get The goat and the lamb are Both made of ham Jason Mathias Jason Mathias You can share your Dr Pepper with anyone you want Except for the parents of Jason Mathias And hey hey hey Hey hey hey You should sign your letters sincerely Jason Mathias And hey hey hey Yea yea You can only testify about the hole in the wall Clearly shaped like Jason Mathias
See you in Ft. Lauderdale, where everything pastel fails Where everything is veiled in lace of honeyed hell. I’ve never been to Ft. Lauderdale, I don't think I have babe, But I took some church trips, when I was just a kid. Florida is an awful place, you can see it is or say it ain't Besides, of course, the beach, and the surf and the palm trees, But Ft. Lauderdale is super cool, it's great on spring break ’88 Things happen down there that don't happen anywhere. OOOOO O Ft. Lauderdale, Ft. Lauderdale, are you okay way down there? I hope to see you soon, in a classic scuba suit. Ft. Lauderdale, Ft. Lauderdale, is the best place for our little bird We will let it sail, into the un-oceaned air. OOOOOO Ft. Lauderdale.
Sometimes I look at Everything in the universe And I hurt A little Because so much seems to suck And yet Forget The good at my own expense Because I know There is good shit in the universe I once Thought that The world was just junkyard hard When I looked What I saw Was bad rabid junkyard dog What I know Photograph Birth control The kids in our Midst are mist in The mountains in the snow I know You know Not everyone's in slow-mo There's no Time for Me to repeat this. But we Know too It's important to communicate So I’m Saying This so you can hear it clearly, babe.
ATTILA! 02:32
Attila! I never paid any union dues I once paid a fine, it was more than I wanted to. You can pay what you need to pay You can say what you feel like you need to Say Not everyone who works gets paid I haven't made any human news But I've seen TV shows about humans do I'm better off silent Alone in the corner and as violent As a hun Though I'm sure many huns were fun. Not everyone is work gets done Not every hun who works has fun Attila! I never worked on a highway crew I've driven by those guys, and those chicks I mistake as guys I'm sure it's very tough work With the big trucks in the dirt and the sun And the cold But not everyone who works grows old Not everyone does what they're told! Attila!
Family Van 02:02
Baby if you want We'll just roll around Baby if you want We’ll roll around town Baby if you don't I understand babe Baby if you don't I understand now Baby if you want Just come inside Baby if you want Come inside now Baby if you don't Or baby if you do Baby either way I understand babe Yea family van! Baby if you want Just come around Baby if you want You come around town Baby if you don't I understand babe Baby if you don't I understand now Yea family van! Mini mini van Extra extra tire Big big man In a mini van Extra extra mile Big big van Oh little bitty skirt! Yeah family van!
Mohammed Ali 01:36
Bring on the day, bring on the day I am Mohammed Ali and a bad like fucker And I ain't scared of no eternity Yeah man, hurt man Dirt man, skirt man
Alive 03:07
Everybody falls into a trap And dies like a poor dying rat. Everybody makes the same mistakes There's a skull beneath every human face And everybody I know Is going to die And all of them are turning into dirt But this whole family is getting out of here alive This family gonna be all right, Alive. Everybody's got to get back To the blackest of the black (unfortunately) Inside every finger a bone Inside of every stone a comfy little home
All Is Right 03:05
Sick for 5 days and on Tuesday we sleep in the hospital Sick for 6 days, Wednesday in the hospital Sick for 7 days, Thursday morning in the hospital Everything is blurry, blurry, blurry, I can see that I can't see Everything is blurry blurry blurry I can see but I can't see Everything is a hurry, but nothing actually hurrying Saturday sunrise, my wife sitting up in bed Sunday sunset, she's sitting up in the bed, Monday midnight we wake to his new cries in our new night All is right...
Today, yea, there is east and there is West Today yea, a television set An antenna bent, sits where the sun sets Today yea, today is dry before it's wet, yes, Today yea, isn't over yet You can bet on it, or better yet, just get set I've got ears and gears, teeth and spit A nose, a neck, a chest and lips, A mind to win and a mind to lose I hope my mind gets a mind to choose. Today yea, you choose you choose you choose You open your eyes and you move and you move Solo I got bones and guts, tails and cuts Birds on fire, and telephone wires Wheels on streets, ways and means My feet and wings are identical things Today yea, identical things When you flap your feet, you flap your wings Skin and veins, spine and legs Arms and wrists, shoulders square Knees and toes, two elbows A waist, some hair, your basic nose Today yea, yea, yeah yeah yeah Always yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah


We moved and now I had a whole basement, with carpet! It was like a dream. I was listening to the Misfits a lot and now I had two kids. I’d record the drums during the day while everyone was awake, and at night I’d get drunk and pretend I was Muddy Waters. It’s a sort of punk blues guitar record. Like throwing a Telecaster into a gravel pit.


released January 1, 2009

All music, vocals, and lyrics by Shorthand P. Davis ©2009
*except for "Death at Your Door", "Family Van" by P. Davis & D.L.Trautman ©2009
Produced and recorded by Shorthand P. Davis
Mastering and Post-Production by Kyle P. Snyder

All songs recorded on seven tracks of an 8-track recorder


all rights reserved



Short Hand Muncie, Indiana

Short Hand figures that it's easier to learn to play an instrument than it is to find someone who can play it. He also figures that it's easier for him to do the writing, recording, mixing, artwork, and anything else that might need to be done. In the end, a set of sounds collect themselves into different shapes one might call "albums." Some sound like this and some sound like that. ... more

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