Get all 7 Grampfather releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Laugh Lines, 666G, Gramppappies, Magnum Grampus, The Gramp Stamp, Gramps Of Wrath, and Pipes.
1. |
Murder Hornets
03:44
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Another day, another plague,
murder hornets on their way.
Daily lies desensitize,
incessant terror normalized.
All hope seems but a distant dream
drifting away with each deceit.
We’ve come to know a curse of old–
only misery is all we’ll know.
Another year, a new host of fears
to keep us fed as death draws near—
preoccupied as we die,
wildfires blot out the sky
and clowns at the helm overwhelm,
inundate, indoctrinate, buy and sell.
Told to forgo all you know
by those who thrive
when your eyes are closed.
Oh, what could have been?
What could have been has been
and will be again.
So long to linear time,
fate’s not a straight line,
it was all inside my mind.
Murder hornets
swarming borders and seas.
Ever looming
a new brewing disease.
All the figures’ names change
but the game stays the same—
the waves erase the faces.
How many lives lost?
How many lives
does one man’s ego cost?
Abyss yawning
as the new day’s dawning.
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2. |
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Complacent through the ages:
“It’s always been this way.”
Keep telling yourself
that it’s never going to change.
Tradition’s your only mission,
to always stay the same–
despite facts that reveal fictions,
you’re never going to change.
Set in your ways
until the day you die
alongside no one
besides your pride.
But a mind transcribed
does not die soon,
even though
you might want it to.
I can’t reach you,
I can’t break through.
Fragmented into factions–
down we go the rabbit holes
to mend dissatisfaction
with what we don’t want to know–
though you can try to ignore it,
reality has a way
of breaking down your fortress
and permeating
everything you thought you knew–
gone are the old days,
adapt or decay.
I don’t know what to say,
it seems clear to me–
the only thing that stays the same
is the changing constantly–
so keep up or keep out.
Echo chambers suffocate
the range of the mind.
God forbid you ever become a critic
of yourself.
There’s sanctity in humility–
you can’t always get it right.
I hope one day you’ll see
through the duplicity
of those who seem
to only worship spite.
I know, it’s not easy
to leave behind a lie
that you believed in.
The distance
between you and me
is the difference
between our worlds and screens.
The you you made is on display–
your manufactured, preferred face,
but it’s hard for me to believe
that you’d actually
think you’d succeed
in deceiving anybody
But yourself–
too bad, oh well,
we’ve all got our own hells.
It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I mean, times are pretty rough.
Why spread the misery?
Isn’t there enough?
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3. |
Doom and Bloom
03:48
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Step outside your head a while and see,
your isolation has you hating me.
your world’s shrinking,
now you’re sinking in your thinking
having let it all go so unchecked.
What did you expect?
Did you think someone
was just standing around
waiting to clean up your mess?
What a fatal resolve
to think you’ve seen it all
and that everyone
is just a lost cause
fated to fall
prey to the slaughter
to the values you once fought for,
rendered irrelevant
by contextual reverence.
No, this is not the end–
I feel alive again.
Yeah, you gotta see it through
to know just what might ensue.
So don’t lose your head.
There’s another way
and a fate to forget.
There’s an array,
so let’s not get caught up.
But if it’s not enough
can’t just lie down and let up,
yeah, you gotta see it through–
I’ll do it for you.
What keeps me going is the unknown road.
Step outside your head and then you’ll know
ever-expanding understand
of your plan to endure
whatever may come your way.
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4. |
Large Garbage
03:50
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Large garbage piling up in the corners,
the stench is seeping into the hall now
when the sun is red
and most overhead.
Cooking up all the muck
and the grime now,
we’re stirring up a soup
we’ll soon find out
the taste we made with our rage
as the waste of our residual fates
metastasizes and propagates.
Simultaneously growing and rotting–
the cruel hand of time is not stopping
for me or you,
it’s just doom and bloom.
All the time in and out of my mind–
always winding up just to unwind
the carousel of heaven and hell
goes round and round
but we know that we’re bound to
spill over, unsure of what it all amounts to.
Just wanna be fresh and sweet,
you and me, clean as can be,
though who knows where it all goes?
“Out of sight, out of mind”
won’t work this time.
I can’t see, sky’s been screened
from my eyes,
dense as an ancient forest,
like large garbage
stuck in orbit.
I don’t need a clean slate,
just some rest and a hot plate.
I don’t need to stay the course,
having strayed I can see the hidden claymores
set up for me and you to ensnare us
in some pyramid scheme just to scare us
and make a couple bills
off of our free will.
Large garbage piling up in the corners.
will we persevere or drown as hoarders
of all things faded and antiquated?
how the past piles up
and has you mistaking
what’s right before your eyes
and what’s beyond the horizon.
As the pile builds and plumes
and further occludes your view,
you’ll know what to do:
Ignore the issue
just like you’re used to,
until one day you choose to
give into or dig through
this great wall of refuse,
you’ll know what to do:
Claw your way out
where the light slips through.
then we can see, sky’s been freed
for our eyes, cleared of years of bias–
now I’m not pious,
so I don’t think they’ll buy this.
I can’t seem to shake it off
no matter what I tell myself.
Well, it’s okay, I’ll just think and pray
and hope that my hope won’t dissipate.
Large garbage piling up in the corners,
the stench is seeping into the hall now
when the sun is red
and most overhead.
Cooking up all the muck
and the grime now,
we’re stirring up a soup
we’ll soon find out
the taste we made with our rage
as the waste of our residual fates
metastasizes and propagates.
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5. |
Thad B. Radd
02:59
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Thad B. Radd!
Thad B. Radd!
Thad B. Radd!
Thad B. Radd!
Thad B. Radd!
Thad B. Radd!
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6. |
Poppies
03:50
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We don’t like music,
we can’t stand dancing,
we can’t waste our time
with this hopeless romancing.
Well, time is money
and we’re in debt to time–
well, you gotta pay it back
to that great taxman in the sky–
so take it or leave it
we’re all just make-believing.
Invest in your future,
sell off your hobbies,
or just give it up
and laze away in the poppies–
forget what the flower means
trade your power for efficiency.
Well, it’s alright,
it’s just that easy
to pawn off your dreams
as long as it feeds the well,
the well is running dry–
the idea is not to die,
well, I just want my mind to fly
but I gotta get that rent on time–
you know how it goes,
you don’t need me to tell you so.
Just turn the song off,
enjoy the moment
devoid of noise
and its respective components.
So break it all down
just to build it back up
‘cause you won’t know what it means
unless you feel the lack of–
when the silence consumes you
you’ll beg for a note to tune to,
and when the vivid dims
you’ll long for a new song to begin.
I can’t fight it,
just feels right
when my mind finds
a way to speak
free and easy,
only bound to the beat–
write it down
to set it free.
I can’t hide it
just feels right
when my mind finds
a time to write to
set it in stone
and let it go
when the time is right
and watch your babies grow
and flourish free and easy
just like the poppies
flutter in the breeze
with no sign of stopping,
‘til the chill of winter
wilts your flowers,
but not the memories,
they’re ours.
Free and easy,
only bound to the beat–
write it down
to set it free.
I can’t fight it,
just feels right
when my mind finds
a time to ride to
set it in stone
and let it go
when the time is right
and watch your babies grow
and flourish free and easy
just like the poppies
flutter in the breeze
with no sign of stopping,
‘til the chill of winter
wilts your flowers,
but not the memories,
they’re ours.
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7. |
Weeding
03:31
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How do I prioritize
the troubles in my life
and those of the times?
Constantly compromising.
So is this the deal?
Does it make sense
that when the ideal meets the real
we settle for much less
than what we had in mind?
Ceaselessly sacrificing.
Sifting through
the good and bad,
but who knows what gems
might slip through the cracks?
There’s just so much
to learn and forget—
just seeing what sticks
and what gets left
in the valley of debt.
At what cost do we reach the summit?
How evenly
are the flowers and the weeds
spaced between
the withered and their seeds
last time you checked?
Weeding,
trying to get it right.
With each one you rip out
another one grows overnight.
What unsung work it is
just to maintain
balance in a mind field
when it won’t stop raining.
How do I prioritize
what grows from within
and what seeps in from outside?
There’s just so much
to learn and regret,
but there’s just some things
you never can forget,
but isn’t it better yet
than to completely numb your conscience?
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8. |
Odd Times for Odd Times
04:14
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You gotta know right now
‘cause it was never said out loud.
Let’s set the record straight—
I am not one to wait too long.
So let’s get it all out in the air.
Do you really care
for that which you cannot compare?
Keep your heart close to home—
after all that’s all we really know.
Add up all of the little things at hand
and all the time that’s passed—
hang onto the friends who will last.
Hold fast to all that which keeps you here—
beyond the glowing fear of death,
what keeps your heart sincere?
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9. |
Dead Ends
03:55
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Strike a spark but the fire won’t catch–
waking to a fate you did not expect–
put in good karma but can’t cash that check.
Despite your aims you can’t evade
The dead ends,
severing your visions in shreds
and cutting you off
and spitting you out
without a map
and the path is lost.
Then darkness starts to swarm you,
can’t see your hands before you–
time ceases to exist,
fading faster as you slip your grip,
and once you get the hang of it
it all shifts.
Circling each day like a mouse in a maze.
If only a bird’s eye view could show you the way
to glean from each mistake and not become its prey.
The crowd awaits your great escape
To the unknown, a new home
for your true form, or your delusions
of what you think that others think
that you should be doing
beyond the dead ends,
severing your rhythms in fragments
and cutting you off
and spewing you out
without a beat
and the time is lost.
Just tap your foot to find it
and you’ll be reminded
of how your body used to move
before you had to pay your dues.
Now what has become of you?
Just tell yourself it’s alright,
though it might be contrived
and all in your mind.
To just fall in line
is not in my design.
It’s okay to
not know the way through it all
and those who claim to
you can trust about as much
as any old point of view
when the direction changes,
the whole landscape rearranges
by the intentions and the angles
that’ll send you on your way
to an early grave
or be the saving grace
you half believe in.
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10. |
The Grampening
04:13
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Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
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Grampfather Kingston, New York
Grampfather is an indie-psych rock band based out of Kingston, NY, whose material traverses a variety of rock genres, such
as indie, garage, punk, psych, chill, and thrash.
James Kwapisz: vocals, guitar, synth
Tony DiMauro: drums
Andrew Blot: guitar, keys
Jake Offermann: bass
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Instagram: @grampfatherrr,
or Twitter: @GRAMPFATHER.
Also on Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, etc.
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