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lyrics

Torchy--short for torture
Was no nice kid
His red hair screamed "Hey! Cripple Canary!"

"Bet you can't take me"
And then kicked the shit out of Coke
With pale thick fists
Coke's legs were bound in braces
But his spirit was not

His days were made of ivory and diamonds

Paints of city scenes
Portraits of postwar Texas

In Belle Meade
Next to greens of good ol' Fort Sam

Learning to put cars together
By taking them apart
Smoking Marlboro Reds
On Scout camps
And walking without a limp--no limp!

Torchy didn't recognize the crewcut catcher at first
Torchy's reacquaintance was a firm thrashing
Coke let him live

Given in memory of Cripple Canary

credits

from What The System Is For, released May 22, 2018
Clinton Kirby: guitar, bass, vocals
Stephen Thomas: drums

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Handtruck California

Just a man, his evil deeds, and the stars...and some cool indie rock tunes! If you need a drought of doubt and a flood of love, check out Happy Grief...

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