Everything is a Lot (Remastered)

6up 5oh Copout (Pro/Con) (Remastered)

SELF-iSH

Mr Capgras Encounters A Secondhand Vanity... (Remastered)

Will Wood- Memento Mori  The Most Important Thing In The World

Suburbia Overture Greetings / from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

Marsha Thankk You for the Dialectics but I Need You to leave will wood

Song is not mine.

All credits go to Will Wood.

Listen to Camp Here and There on Mayfieldandbelov.com, Spotify, YouTube, and Apple Podcasts.

Yes, to Err is Human, So Don't Be One. - Will Wood

Music by Will Wood And the Tapeworms.
Will be deleted at owner request.

Will Wood - Black Box Warrior - O.K.U.L.T.R.A.

Front Street, from "Everything is a Lot."

I’m in a meat-pack plant by the gutterside 
A slaughterhouse apartment with a slice of lime 
I’m cruisin’ with the bruisers, boozin’, I’ll be a suitor, losing my mind. 
Because there’s nothing to find. 
The fetid stench of bad intentions hangs in the sweat 
I’m in a sauna hot with drama and I’m tryin’ to forget 
All the masochistic rapture mis-steps 
Imminent pleasure’s ready to cut. To the bone. 
You said “let loose!” But now you’re lost. 
While you tied your boots like a tightrope noose. 
The problem chased the taste of the cause. 
While the evidence supports the truth. Is 80 enough proof for you? 

Here’s to my lady and I’m coming inside 
Drink to me baby, and what’s left of what’s right. 
It’s easier to use and lose than never to have used you 
On a fucked up Saturday night. Good times on Front Street. 

Loose lips sink ships, captain, will you go down? 
Float your boat and overboard and hoping to drown. 
Tell me what prevented you from coming downtown alone. 
Because we know you’re not afraid. 
This chastity is Greek to me, the meat is still fresh 
The gnashing teeth will masticate the bone from the flesh 
Since nobody will tell me where these bastards go, I’ll see for myself. 
I think they might go to hell. 
You said “let loose!” But now you’re lost. 
While you tied your boots like a tightrope noose. 
The problem chased the taste of the cause. 
While the evidence supports the truth. Is 80 enough proof for you? 

Here’s to my lady and I’m coming inside 
Drink to me baby, and what’s left of what’s right. 
It’s easier to use and lose than never to have used you 
On a fucked up Saturday night. Good times on Front Street. 

LAST CALL FOR MORALS, BETTER COVER YOUR DRINK 
SODOM AND GOMORRA’D LET IT GO DOWN THE SINK

Front Street

Music and Lyrics by Will Wood
Featuring
Dave English/Thomas Finch on Drums, Ben Scardo on Upright Bass, Will Wood on Guitar/Piano/Vocals/Kazoo/Backups

To cut down on my silhouette, my favorite food are smoke and hearts.
My leftover frets forget stiletto-self vendettas, while my cracking backbone lacks but backs up my false starts. 
All nightmares start as dreams and I hear my subconscious screaming. 
They say that beauty’s just skin deep, so naturally, please show me your- 

Bones, bones, bones 
Let me see your bones 
Well I don’t wanna know if the feeling follows home. 
Bones, bones, bones 
Hell, we’re all alone 
If I come home, baby, will you show your bones? 

Lumps in throats and petticoats, your baby teeth would pray for you. 
A selfish book is always open, and some of the best liars only want the truth. 
All love starts as a scheme, so wake me up, I’m tired of sleeping. 
They say that beauty’s just skin deep. So rip it off and please show me your 

Bones, bones, bones 
Let me see your bones 
Well I don’t wanna know if the feeling follows home. 
Bones, bones, bones 
Hell, we’re all alone 
If I come home, baby, will you show your bones? 

All nightmares start as dreams, all love starts as a scheme. 
Give me all your LSD so I can feel my mind unweave again. 
They say that beauty’s just skin deep. 
So Ana stands and rends the rancid meat from her 

Bones, bones, bones 
Let me see your bones 
Well I don’t wanna know if the feeling follows home. 
Bones, bones, bones 
Hell, we’re all alone 
If I come home, baby, will you show your bones? 

Bones, bones, bones 
I can see my bones 
Well I don’t wanna know if the feeling follows home. 
Bones, bones, bones 
Hell, we’re all alone 
If I come home, baby will you see my bones?

Skeleton Appreciation Day In Vestal, NY (Bones)

From "Everything is a Lot" by Will Wood and the Tapeworms.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hl5XUM_qoN4

Six-up, five-oh, pigs come, I cop n’ go. 
The blotter shows they got me on the rocks like Galapagos. 
Good luck finding critters creepy as me. They shoulda fried me, I’ll give ya PTSD 
Vodka shots droppin’ down the throat they been stompin’ on. 
Cockin’ guns, lockin’ up, the quotas all for shock n’ awe. 
Drivin’s tirin’, and I been hot-wirin’ to make my get away from the jailbreak riot and 
Cellmates scrapin’ upon the bricks in the basement, 
tryin’ to escape this probation generation- too late! 
Crazy fuckers’ gotta do the time. 
Committed to the mental ward, committing all the crimes. 
I’m alive and kickin’ till the split ends fray. 
Maybe plead insane, guilty, but I’m not to blame! 
I’m a slave to the main vein, sprayin’ on the mainframe. 
Suffering the infrastructure, hoping I can maintain! 
Oh how I know how I go how I go. Ask me a question the answer I know. 
Yes or no options don’t weigh out and so; I don’t ever see the cons and the pros. 

You bare a striking resemblance. 
Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. 
You appear familiar dear. You look just like my bathroom mirror. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest. 

The drunk-tank’s blood red. Junkie’s gonna relapse. 
Some think punk’s dead, me I don’t believe that. 
Rock n’ roll gatherin’ the moss till I be that lichen-coated boulder, make you slip, 
Bust your kneecap! 
Open on the amazon, hide the cure for cancer. 
I’m Lance Armstrong, you’re the necromancer. 
Slash n’ burn, crash into the 42nd answer, 
all my fellow skeletons adore the army ants here. 
Flies on my eyeballs, scabs on my elbows. 
Heaven knows God’s sittin’ up there like “Hell no!” 
Only one thing comes to those who wait. Is it too late to embrace your fate? 
My death come swiftly and gently to you. 
Mayhem, cry mayday, and oncoming doom. 
Save your convictions, they never will do. What you say’s at least 1/6 billionth true. 

You bare a striking resemblance. 
Some kind of semblance of somethin’ I been rememberin’. 
You appear familiar dear. You look just like my bathroom mirror. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest. 

Am I being detained? Am I under arrest? 
Read me my rights please. I want my phone call. 
Please policeman- no heel-to-toe. Oh please, let me go! 
Please police- is it a test? I won’t know till I’m under arrest.

6up 5Oh CopOut (Pro/Con)

The Song with Five Names, a​.​k​.​a. Soapbox Tao, a​.​k​.​a. Checkmate Atheists! a​.​k​.​a. Neospace Government, a​.​k​.​a. You Can Never Know (feat. Alex Nauth)

Front Street

Will Wood

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