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Modest Mouse
Modest Mouse


Background information
Origin Issaquah, Washington, United States
Genre(s) Indie Pop
Indie Rock
Lo-Fi
Noise Pop
Years active 1993—present
Label(s) Epic Records
Up Records
K Records
Matador Records
Website Website
Members
Joe Plummer
Isaac Brock
Eric Judy
Jeremiah Green
Tom Peloso
Jim Fairchild
Former members
Johnny Marr
Robin Peringer
John Wickhart
Dann Gallucci
Benjamin Weikel



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  M  →  Modest Mouse  →  Albums  →  Sad Sappy Sucker

Modest Mouse Album


Sad Sappy Sucker (04/24/2001)
04/24/2001
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. . .



You're in the back seat and you say to yourself
"OK it doesn't matter anyway"
it's weeds pulling weeds and your Blaming yourself
Ok we're all indifferent in our own ways
You're in trouble now and you say to yourself
"Ok my baby clean conscience anyways"
You're in the back seat and you say to yourself
"OK it doesn't matter anyway"
It's weeds pulling weeds and you're blaming yourself
Ok we're all indifferent in are own ways
You're in trouble now and you say to yourself
"Ok my baby clean conscience anyways"
Four fingered fisher man alright
finger four fisher man so uptight
hello
you're getting on no one
you're both right
Four fingered Fisher man all night long
Four fingered Fisher man so uptight though

. . .



Hopped on the wagon, went two feet
Now I'm back again
I hit a hard wall
Shout two words

. . .



Point A To Point B oh I Know
lots of points with no points in between, for me
So lonely but never alone I know
I'm at my house but I wish that I were at home
Point A To Point B oh I know
what's the points with the ?bat passes danger for me
Dig Hard
don't try at all
Dig hard
Dig Hard
Will get down on all fours
and dig hard
only you know you know how
that broke
only you know how
only you know how
that broke
only time uh oh

. . .



Gone fishin'
I'm takin'

. . .



No, I don't suppose
Downpour, downpour
It always rains on a picnic
Downpour, downpour
Don't let go quite yet

. . .



So you wonder how
get em' up, put em up
get your dukes up now
got no time no money, that's why
get em up, put em up
get your dukes up now
Soda fountain crowd
button up, shut em' up
gettin' fed up now
got no time, no money, that's why
get em' up, put em' up

. . .



ping-pong
sit and think for a while and you'll realize that you'll still die.
if you're not thinking at all i dont know why you're alive.

. . .



So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you want to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you very far at all
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't even barely leave your home
So you spilled every last penny into your car
And it still won't take you where you need to go
So you spilled every last penny into your car

. . .



what are you doing here?
I came to get a case of factory outlet beer, then
I go home
I don't feel like I want to be by myself
mice eat cheese
for the most part, they do as they please then
cat comes home

. . .



Got a racecar grin and a calculation
And every gun for a secret agent
Defunct that timebomb at the space station
Hey, Secret Agent X-9 why don't you drop me a line?
And say, would it cost you your job
to say what was in that gold box?
So why did they give you that job?
And why can they give you that job?
You think this guy was on a permanent vacation

. . .



whatcha do whatcha do whathca do with your own life
whatcha see whatcha see whatcha see as an astronaut, okay
whatcha eat whatcha eat whatcha eat as an alien

. . .



you're no one
you're going nowhere
you got a fast car.

. . .



australopithecus, friend to the end and but it's over
over, over again
you wanted to chase around the cat and the dog
while they're playing like that and I said
what's the matter, friend

. . .



Buh duh buh buh buh
Bud duh buh buh buh buh buh buh buh
You go right through me
I go right through but I'm about to
Go on reminding you I am about to see you through it
Buh duh buh buh buh
Bud duh buh buh buh buh duh buh buh
Buh duh buh buh buh
Your mouth not mind is open wide
You don't have a clue
I I am a reminder
You've got a voice so talk to yourself
Lift the bad weight off your mullet
And let the thoughts fall off your tongue
Cause I'm callin' callin' callin'
I've never written to anyone
So this is about ugly lovers
And this is about pretty songs
Cause I'm a bastard bastard bastard
In my lipstick I'm so much fun
Connect your wood feet to a motor
And the chrome dance trophy is won
A little classy plastic lumber
I'm embarassed but I ain't that stunned
Looks like the humans' days are numbered
That's a sitcom that was number one
Cause we're a past tense late rate (?)
I must've thouroughly convinced us not to mess this place up

. . .


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