CAPO


drinking milk on the kitchen floor
i can’t feel my face no more
drinking cognac deadly dull
no more ginger ale in the skull
tried to bake a lemon tarte
express you my crippled heart
failed ‘cause i fell asleep again
my brain wrapped in cellophane

GINGER ALE, RUSHING TO MY HEAD
GINGER ALE, SPEEDING TO MY HEAD
GINGER ALE, BUBBLIN IN MY HEAD
STILL ALIVE, BUT I FEEL FUCKIN’ DEAD

feelin’ like a mobster boss
spillin’ all that pasta sauce
wait i got a heart attack
nevermind poor kids on crack
feeding ducks once in a while
living life anxiety style
getting numb is my own relief
just call me the panic chief

GINGER ALE, RUSHING TO MY HEAD
GINGER ALE, SPEEDING TO MY HEAD
GINGER ALE, BUBBLIN IN MY HEAD
STILL ALIVE, BUT I FEEL FUCKIN’ DEAD

when you look the feds right in the eye
you just need to lie
everything’s perishable
but i don’t feel spiritual 
everything’s just energy
fuck all that anxiety
even a broken clock is right twice a day care less
no point waitin’ for doomsday

when you look death right in the eye
you just need to try
everything’s perishable
but i hate being spiritual 
everything i touch turns to shit
i’m king midas in reverse – don’t you get it?
wherever you are in the food chain,
we all end up in a mess anyway!

Poor Kids O.C.

Capo

MISS UNIVERSE


my hair feels like spaghetti
and i’m so fuckin’ pretty
ahhhhhh don’t you get it
i’m your son’s lady

i dress up like a hippie
just ten bucks for a quickie
noooo sex in the city
too much crack, i feel so dizzy

I AM MISS UNIVERSE
I AM MISS UNIVERSE
I AM MISS UNIVERSE
YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

my eyes are really heavy
and my legs they feel like jelly
ahhhh don’t you see it
i’m not jim, i’m jamie

I AM MISS UNIVERSE
I AM MISS UNIVERSE
I AM MISS UNIVERSE
YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

I AM MISS UNISEX
I AM MISTER UNICORN
I AM MISS UNIVERSE
YOU GET WHAT YOU DESERVE

Miss Universe

CAT HOLE


friday night
spiked my sprite
two white lines
grind my mind

legs get weak
do i act like a freak
hope that’s the fucking peak
it is more than i need

I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN

fallin in and fallin out 
i don’t know what it’s all about
white lights, high as a kite
not sure if i’m alright

deep in the hole
digging for control
is there some more?
or just the kitchen floor?

I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN
I’M FALLIN IN AND IN AND IN AND IN AND IN

Cat Hole

PERSONALISED CRAP


why don’t you invest in stocks
get a fuckin’ drink detox
find new singles nearby
book first class to Dubai

why don’t you just follow me
you don’t need to pay a fee
you can trust all off us
modern god, Elon Musk

I don’t want this mindless piss 
stop annoying me with this
never asked for anything
social media wrestling ring

PERSONALIZED CRAP 
PERSONALIZED CRAP 
PERSONALIZED CRAP 
PERSONALIZED CRAP 
PERSONALIZED CRAP 
PERSONALIZED CRAP

Personalised Crap

TUNING BITCH


woke up puking, heard your car
bet you think you’re superstar
tiny mindy and no esteem
guess that it is your big dream
how much was it? where’s it from?
bet you’ve got a giant dong
no one likes you, don’t you see?
just like hepatitis b

WROOM WROOM
FUCKIN TUNING BITCH
I KNOW WHERE YOUR CAR IS
I’LL BURN YOUR CAR DOWN

super fast and only chrome
poor kids will destroy your home
v-eight motor and beef neck
look at you! emotional wreck!
your giant exhaust exhausts me
that’s why i take lsd
just like scooters everywhere
poor kids get you be aware 

WROOM WROOM
FUCKING TUNING BITCH
I KNOW WHERE YOUR CAR IS
I’LL BURN YOUR CAR DOWN 

fucking evil and no brain
just like saddam hussein
it doesn’t help, just looking rich
piti little tuning bitch
your audi will go up in flames
when we start to play our games
no one cries about your trash
after we lit all the gas

Tuning Bitch

SCOOTER SHOOTER


lookin‘ stupid
fuckin‘ dumb
you scooter ridin‘
nazi scum

SCOOTER SHOOTER
SCOOTER SHOOTER 
SCOOTER SHOOTER
SCOOTER SHOOTAAAAAAA

wreck yourself 
or we will come
kick you off 
your scooter, scum
kids on crack
high on speed
make scooter ridin’
bitches bleed

SCOOTER SHOOTER
SCOOTER SHOOTER
SCOOTER SHOOTER
SCOOTER SHOOTAAAAAAA

Scooter Shooter

EDHD
(Energy Deficit Hypercaffeine Disorder)


wake up
haven't slept for days
go out
energy can save
fuck work
losing my brain cells
coffee
doesn't cook itself

drive home
grab myself some cans
caffeine
shortens my life span

MY HEART'S RACING IN MY CHEST
BURNOUT UNTIL I REST

drive fast
you're too fuckin' slow
stop sign
is this fucking' joke?
roadkill
no time to hit the breaks
bang pram
never come in late

cold sweat
all over my face
hot blood
pumping in my veins
heart ache
just a normal day
brain fuck
no i am awake

MY HEART'S RACING IN MY CHEST
RED BULL IS FUCKING BEST
MY HEART POPS OUT OF MY CHEST
I JUST LOVE THE FUCKING TASTE

---

credits:

releases December 1, 2022 

Poor Kids O.C.
Text | Music

Jonas Silbermann-Schön
Vocals

Lucas Schmitz
Guitar | Shouts | Mixing

Fabian Eickmeier
Bass | Shouts

Lion Schmitz
Drums | Percussion | Shouts

Markus "Oki" Neumann
Recording

Matthew Barnhart
Mastering

EDHD

Text:

Getting shitfaced every day
Got no job just bills to pay
Fuck off with your mental health
Fuck off with your social wealth

Fuck off with your Yoga class
I put big objects up my ass
People often think I’m strange
But I will never ever change

And so it shows… 
it’s all good… 
until it’s not good anymore …

In the park - smoking trees
Young and happy families
Kids start fight - yeah that’s right
That’s what I call comedy

When I’m meeting with my friends
I don’t think that they understand
I don’t know just a single name
And honestly I feel no shame

And so it shows… 
it’s all good… 
until it’s not good anymore …

I sit at home alone and sad
Eating Big Macs on my bed
Maybe I did something wrong
Maybe I should rip a bong

No answers on the text I send
why don’t they even understand
No fucks given what they think
I’m pissing in your kitchen sink

And so it shows… 
it’s all good… 
until it’s not good anymore …

----------------------

Poor Kids O.C.
Text | Music

Jonas Silbermann-Schön
Vocals

Lucas Schmitz
Bass | Shouts

Fabian Eickmeier
Guitar | Shouts

Lion Schmitz
Drums | Shouts

Markus "Oki" Neumann
Recording | Mixing

Claas Herrmann
Mastering

Versager Records
Label

All Good :)

What’s worse: the crack-fueled snakes in the cockpit or the ones in your head that won’t quiet down—even after your third €15 drink at the airport bar? Poor Kids O.C. tackle that question with a two-minute tour de force through the ABCs of flight anxiety, channeling their inner Samuel L. Jackson along the way.

Text:

SNAKES ON A PLANE


Stuck again in this bin
Tearing up my skin
Crashing every night 
But not the kind I like

SNAKES ON A PLANE
HIJACKING MY BRAIN
EXCUSE ME MAM, I NEED YOUR HELP
SNAKES ON A PLANE
 
May I smoke in here
Father of the year
Pay to be afraid
Booze is my first aid

Pressurize my soul
Captain we lose control
Just give me one bite
All inclusive flight

SNAKES ON A PLANE
HIJACKING MY BRAIN
EXCUSE ME MAM, I NEED YOUR HELP
SNAKES ON A PLANE

SNAKES ON A PLANE
COBRAS AND CHAMPAGNE
DRIVING ME INSANE

Enough is enough
I’ve had it with those motherfucking snakes in this fatherfucking plane
Poisoning my veins squeezing my fucking brains

Everybody strap in now
Cause I’m about to have a fucking mental breakdown in the aisle man

Just gimme me my fucking tomato juice and let me sleep another ten hours
Oh wait! There’s snakes on crack!

I’m about to open some fucking windows!


-----

Credits:

releases April 04, 2025

Poor Kids O.C.
Text | Music

Jonas Silbermann-Schön
Vocals

Lucas Schmitz
Bass | Shouts

Fabian Eickmeier
Guitar | Shouts

Lion Schmitz
Drums | Shouts

Markus "Oki" Neumann
Recording | Mixing

Claas Herrmann
Mastering

Versager Records
Label

How To Be O.C.

Snakes On A Plane

W.E.T.

Every night the same
I’m tearing out my brain
You talking to me
But I don't know what you’re saying
Pretending I’m awake
And trying not to break
It felt so good
But now it starts to ache

Self esteem
The biggest teenage dream
Comes in plastic bags
And helps me to believe
That my bladder’s strong
I’m doing nothing wrong
Pounding all them drinks
until it starts to rinse

Will they find out?
I pissed my jeans
Not the first time

WHY EVEN TRY
I'M FEELING FINE

When the waters flow
I put on a show
Dressed in wet cloth
You think I am so goth

It’s coming over me,
I don’t know where to pee
My shoes overflow
When you know you know
It’s not my mistake
When you wake and bake

WHY EVEN TRY
I'M FEELING FINE, MY TIME TO SHINE
WHY EVEN TRY
I'M FEELING FINE

Will they find out?
I pissed my jeans
my time to shine

W.E.T.

Text:

What a time to be alive
Spinal chords like butter knives
Let me just shred this ramp
My head is a prison camp

The sun is high, so am I
Who are you to justify?
Four wheels take the pain away
My brain is on holiday

SKATEBORED
I WANNA GET HIGH
FUCKED UP
MY DEALER RUNS DRY
SIX PACK
HELPS ME SURVIVE
STILL FUCKED
NO MONEY TO BUY

How can I hurt myself?
My skating is bottom shelf
Vandalise body and soul
Just put in some alcohol

Who’s got green, maybe some blow
Exploding veins enjoy the show
Sunglasses on, head up high
Watch me milk the butterfly

SKATEBORED
I WANNA GET HIGH
FUCKED UP
MY DEALER RUNS DRY
SIX PACK
HELPS ME SURVIVE
STILL FUCKED
NO MONEY TO BUY

SKATEBORED
I WANNA GET HIGH
FUCKED UP
MY DEALER RUNS DRY
SIX PACK
HELPS ME SURVIVE
STILL FUCKED
NO BOOZE, JUST CRY
credits
releases May 30, 2025
Poor Kids O.C.
Text | Music

Jonas Silbermann-Schön
Vocals

Lucas Schmitz
Bass | Shouts

Fabian Eickmeier
Guitar | Shouts

Lion Schmitz
Drums | Shouts

Markus "Oki" Neumann
Recording | Mixing

Claas Herrmann
Mastering

Versager Records
Label

Poor Kids O.C.

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