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. |
Bad Taxidermy
03:25
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Love can seem just like a dog’s life,
short and sweet ‘til it just can’t walk right.
I guess it goes for most everybody else,
I just won’t put it on the shelf
and hope it’ll grow and flourish and flower
knowing all the while the thing’s gone sour.
Some vague hope, some brave joke
is prodding you on and luring you in
to an illusion of an image with no reference.
I feel like I’ve died a thousand times
hoping with each death I’d grow more wise.
So shed my skins and let’s begin
again and again, and when will it end?
My heavens, they turn against me.
Well, I’ve got brief stints of peace
between my purgatories.
Well, maybe it’s not so bad.
Maybe the lows I’ve had
will enrich the highs I’ll have.
I got a lot for my time.
I know the world won’t stand still for my desires.
Each vision is a revision to be revised.
I thought I knew, but I never know.
Well, I feel like a volcano
ready to explode
and cover all the old
with new framework to unfold.
Well, I’m breaking out of the mold.
Let lava cool into new land,
expanding the perimeter to understand.
You only knew
the first tier of the facade
that fortified my fears.
Well, now that it’s all laid bare
there’s just no room for the gloom and despair.
Just remember, just remember to forget,
to forget just what this place meant,
and watch all our amazement
become subject to displacement
and it'll all just fade
and we’ll forget what this place meant.
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2. |
Remnants
04:00
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I change my state of mind
like I change the station
on the radio
when there’s no good shit on,
on and on and on.
Here we go through the rigmarole.
Oh no, over and over and over again.
Here we go through the rigmarole.
Oh no, over and over and over and over
and over and over. . .
Again, I lost a friend.
All extremes burn out in the end.
Yes, it’s really asking too much
for you to love me forever and ever
when we know it’s never enough.
Well, I don’t--
no, we don’t wanna settle,
‘cause we won’t
ever let it test our mettle.
Used to fall for that sweet old lie
that someone would love me all of the time.
Well, I thought our love would never die
but I was in denial so I taxidermized it
and put it on a shelf in a big empty room
collecting the dust, the remnants of me and you
dissipating in thin air and passing through
the half-cracked window in our big empty room.
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3. |
Praised Bork
02:01
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Hey!
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4. |
F.O.W.L.
02:28
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For the ones we love:
Another fine line crossed
makes three wrongs right.
Take two bad days
make a solid night.
No, a bottle never set nobody free.
What’s a liquid lover gonna do for me?
Wanna make it so good, but it’ll never be.
For the ones we hate:
Can’t keep away,
I try to move on
but you want me to stay.
For the ones we’ll fuck but never date:
I can’t wait.
If I stay too long, I’ll fade away
but I just can’t seem to stay away.
Can’t wait, can’t stay, won’t go, just fade.
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5. |
Girtha
06:07
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Girtha, will you have this dance with me?
We’ll rock and sway into the night,
your frail hands relaxed in mine,
clasping, just grasping for some life.
Well, we don’t need to
pout and let them win
‘cause we both know that we don’t
belong here to begin--
we didn’t come here on a whim.
We lost control when they took us in.
Well, I’m here
to clear my name,
and you’re here
‘cause you forgot your daughter’s name.
I got pinned for a bag that wasn’t mine,
and you got turned in
for your entropic mind.
Well, despite the odds
I wouldn’t have it any other way,
I’ll face those odds
if it means making your day,
so lead on, lead away
and take me to that special place
of your heyday.
Girtha, will you have this dance with me?
We’ll rock and sway and dream.
We’ll waltz all about the room
and show all these old suckers how we do.
Well, we don’t need to
pout and let them win
‘cause we both know that we don’t
belong here to begin.
We didn’t come here on a whim.
Well, here we are.
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6. |
Eat Shit and Die
03:14
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We need to unlearn everything we think we know.
Self-proclaimed patriots maintain the status quo.
Red-painted pigs, oblivious to the creed
of their own country, what obvious hypocrisy.
Yesterday’s rebels are today’s perfect pawns.
The sun has long since set and there’s no sign of dawn.
The world is on fire, end times are on the rise.
These greedy motherfuckers need to eat shit and die.
Bootlicking yellowbelly sons of bitches
oppressing themselves by protecting the rich
with false, worn narratives that scapegoat the poor,
never once questioning how they profit from what you ignore.
We need to unlearn everything we think we know
Illusory certainties shatter, ebb, and flow
Some humble humility, some much needed doubt
to loosen the fixity and throw the fuckers out.
Bootlicking yellowbelly sons of bitches
widen the divide with their misled isms:
“Protect and serve” means abuse and exploit,
“Liberty for all” the grand illusion of choice.
Fat in wallet yet bereft in spirit.
If their god ever sang out, they would not hear it.
Your god is mute ‘cause your god is hate,
pray all you want for Satan awaits
cackling as you pack all your precious shit
in a sack on your back for your lavish trip
to heaven or whatever you see fit,
but really you just fucking die, and that’s it.
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7. |
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There is no happy place you go,
no rejoice, only the void,
deafeningly devoid
of any semblance of joy,
indifferent and mute
darkness absolute.
Don't hold your breath.
Nobody needs eternity.
I’m good with death.
Isn’t it enough?
Reality’s fraying seams
dissemble and spread.
Certainty’s the enemy--
the sentiment’s dead.
Swept away with entropy
the ideas in your head.
O to believe in some grand prophecy,
but I wouldn’t hold my breath.
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8. |
Preorder Your Casket
04:00
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Preorder your casket,
plan your life thoroughly.
Rewrite your revised
and perfected eulogy.
Well, here are the ills
and here are the cures:
For lethargy, there’s energy,
for apathy, there’s family,
for suffering, we endure.
Here take this, this quick fix
for your anxiety.
Trade your will for this pill.
Bow down to the monotony.
Well, we are not gods
but we can prepare for the rain,
for the wars, for the odds.
We can afford our own funeral,
our own deceit.
Let us free, let us lie.
Give us our papers, our receipt
and let us die.
Take your pick and stick with it.
Don’t you know you can’t have both?
Can’t be free and have security, oh no,
‘cause hardened hearts don’t compromise
and horse-blinded eyes don’t recognize
the space between the far extremes, oh no.
Well, we are not gods
but we can prepare for the rain,
for the wars, for the odds.
We can afford our own funeral,
our own deceit.
Let us free, let us lie.
Give us our papers, our receipt
and let us die.
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9. |
End Times (Major)
02:24
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I want to put in a good word
but the world gets more and more absurd.
It gets stranger and stranger
day after day, yeah.
Florida man is at it again,
he’s gone and married a gator
in his meth den.
Well, it’s alright, I don’t mind,
do what ya gotta do,
I guess it takes all kinds.
Well, I know that sometimes
nothing feels right,
but even though it feels like end times
I wanna be besides you.
Let’s break this daily dread,
let’s see what we could do instead
of whine and complain
about the same old things.
If these are truly our last days,
let’s you and me get out of this place.
It’ll be alright, we’ll keep our sights high,
‘cause everything is good and bad
at the same time.
But let’s not generalize
‘cause that’s the reason why
we got here in the first place.
I know it’s hard to see straight
when there’s another tragedy
every day guaranteed.
It’s not hard to feel detached and numb,
caught up in the humdrum.
No, it’s not hard to feel detached and numb,
but what have we become?
I know sometimes
that nothing don’t ever, no,
don’t ever feel alright.
But even though it feels like end times,
I wanna be besides you.
Well, I know that sometimes
nothing feels right,
but even though it feels like end times
I wanna be besides you.
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10. |
Sludgement Day
04:19
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The time has come for everyone
to come completely undone,
split limb from limb,
stripped from what’s written:
This hell we’re in.
Freed from the lies, from the ties
that bind us and blind us
and try to divide us
to snuff out the rising and rising of the tide
of their looming demise.
Take a deep breath, forget the presets.
What’s the condition of your conditioning?
It’s about time we rethink what we enshrine,
and what we reject, defected for our defects,
ordained by obsolete precepts.
Well, we don’t need that, we can see that
it’s just a ploy to destroy our feedback.
I don’t buy what they say
‘cause judgment day
happens every single fucking day.
Another city on a hill
slips into the landfill
where all suffer in the sludge,
king, pauper, jester, and judge.
Give it up, all you got,
let the prophets of profit rot
and watch the propped-up puppets drop
as the blood of the mud clots.
Choking on the ocean,
drowning in air,
reaping what they’ve sown:
This hell they’ve prepared.
Finally, the misery
shifts to those who need
an exorcism of egotism--
just let it die.
Take a look, it’s in your book--
you’ll pay for your pride,
If you believe just what you read
then it’s eye for an eye,
but if I’m blind then your blind
then who’s to decide
which way to go when no one knows
their way through the dark?
The words they feed us are just fodder to breed us
so we each do our part
to fan the flames of fear--
but we know the names
for whom Sludgement Day is here.
I feel a change of tide inside the minds
of those for whom the farce was designed.
Some stay a slave to the cave,
but we embrace the light face to face.
The world that raised you is fading,
your teachers all gone, common sense uncommon.
Unlearn the words blurred by the herd.
Rising from the ruins, a murmur is heard
Sludgement Day is coming soon.
The rising tide in full bloom.
Never-ending impending doom.
Sludgement Day will come for you.
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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
Follow us on Facebook,
Instagram: @grampfatherrr,
or Twitter: @GRAMPFATHER.
Also on Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, etc.
... more
Grampfather recommends:
James's other stuff.
go to album
James's early instrumental stuff.
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