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about

So my daughter says to me "smells like pot and cheap incense," and I say "I'm gonna write a song with that as a title."

lyrics

Verse 1:
If one thing gets you down
pretty soon you can’t even see the
-the sunshine through the clouds,
but the odds keep stacking up a-
against you all around.
Have you back against a wall
where you sob crouched, and unsound.
Facing a corner you cry.

Hook 1:
One stone’s throw away from home,
and yet you still feel so far away.

Chorus 1:
That’s when you know you’re home.
It smells like pot and cheap incense.
You know you’re home home.
Feel secure enough when you’re alone.
It smells like pot and cheap incense.

Verse 2:
Yeah, sometimes life can suck.
Sometimes 'kill me' even,
and you’ll want to give up,
and at the same time you keep breathing,
but you’ve still gotta deal with all the schmucks
even when your heart is bleeding.
Especially when you feel fucked,
and in spite of all the demons.

Hook 2:
They do not own your soul,
so don’t let them trick you,
and make you think...

Chorus 2:
that you’re not home.
It smells like pot and cheap incense.
You know you’re home.
You know you’re home.
You know you’re...
Feel secure enough when you’re alone.
It smells like pot and cheap incense.

Bridge:
And I gave, and I gave, and I gave into my bitch ass.
I hoped I would get some satisfaction back,
and I dug down, deep, right into the crypts
of my soul, in fact,
to find the shit that makes my soul work
unpatchably cracked.
I found this huge ass bull, ya know,
angry at the world, man.
There to attack fans and friends
and without dudes red flag.
I uncovered this volcano of emotions,
and whack crap,
and they say ‘dude relax’
when shit, it knocked me right on my ass.
My chest hurt,
and I couldn’t breathe.
I had a relapse
of life back when I was young,
and all I seen was my dad,
and his fist right up in my grill,
and those bruises on my back,
but his words are what hurt, and stuck
the most, like ‘sissy’ and ‘fag’...

Chorus 3:
It smells like pot and cheap incense.
-all because he was flying higher than a bat,
and even when he didn’t have a bag.
It smells like pot and cheap incense.
-all because he was flying higher than a bat,
and even when he didn’t have a bag.

credits

from Present Demons & Previous NarcoDICKS, released June 11, 2018
Written, Performed, Recorded, Mixed, and Mastered at Ed Harbst Studios by Bradley Voorhees.

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Bradley Voorhees image

Bradley Voorhees East Syracuse, New York

Who doesn't enjoy an interesting indie artist? Am I good, am I bad? Who knows. Guess we'll all have to wait and see. Yes, "we" 'cause not even I know myself anymore. I think that really comes out in the tunes though. Who knows, perhaps it may be you who can help solve a mystery? Yeah, I like a lot of retro television :D But I'll be there for you, if you're there for me too! Ha ... more

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