Lyrics to the songs. Study them well, learn them, come down to shows and join me in singing them. When I have some tabs figured out I'll link them in from here too so you can even play them without me being there, but please do be patient on that score, it takes ages to tab things out properly and isn't a particularly interesting way of spending my time. I've also included the words to a few Million Dead songs, namely the ones I'm currently in the habit of playing live. Anyhoo, on with the show... Click on the title for the lyrics, natch. Romantic Fatigue The Real Damage Wisdom Teeth Sunshine State This Town Ain't Big Enough For The One Of Me Longing For The Day Nashville Tennessee Thatcher Fucked The Kids Casanova Lament I Really Don't Care What You Did On Your Gap Year Worse Things Happen At Sea Romantic Fatigue I have to admit that I am one of the many who thought that a guitar would win him a lady. My teenage years, they were a feminine drought, and I thought that a seranade would help out. It seemed to be working for a couple of years - I wrote a few songs and they wrought a few tears - But when I hit my twenties, it ran out of steam. I seemed to be suffering from romantic fatigue. And I never know which song I should play her, each melody is A memory of a not-forgotten failure. So when I get out my guita tonight, to do what I do, remember: I probably didn't write this song for you. And so as I have mentioned, the shelf-life was short - the plan wasn't working, despite what I thought. My ladies all left me alone in the end, so I had to switch the names around and sing it again. Every life-long-love, and every best friend, slips away into the past. Take my words with caution, I can't pretend that you're the first. You won't be the last. The Real Damage I woke up on a sofa in an unfamiliar house, surrounded by sleeping folks I didn't know. On failing to find my friends, I decided it was clearly time to go. So I made my way out of the door as quietly as I could - there was no one there I knew to say goodbye, Squinting in the sadly sobering sunshine of the Sunday morning light. I started the night with all my friends and I ended up alone. I started out so happy now I'm hungover and down. It was about then that I realized I was half-way through the best years of my life. I scanned the local landmarks, trying to find out where I was, and maybe even find a bus back home, Longing for a shower, and for clean sheets, and a charger for my phone. Suddenly it hit me - I got paid this Friday last, and so I rifled through my pockets for some change. But all I found was a packet of broken cigarettes and a sinking sense of shame. I had to ask myself: Is is really worth it? Is any of this worth it? Well the whole thing's far from perfect, But I've yet to figure out a better way to spend my time. Too many suits and dirty looks made me rack my brains - the real damage started to sink in. It'd been quite a heavy weekend and I could just about remember where I'd been. Well I started the night with all my friends and I ended up alone, I started out so happy now I'm hungover and down. I stood on a street corner and I felt a little sick. It was about then that I realized I was halfway through the first day of the week. Wisdom Teeth It's been 18 months since I kissed you once, so just saying "hi" just isn't going to fly, But if you give me a clue and a minute or two then I might remember your name. And I hate to insist that I was really that pissed, but to tell the truth, in my flush of youth, I would drown my sight until faces and nights seemed the same. A nervous shrug and an awkward hug won't get me out of the hole that I've dug, So I slip the noose with a poor excuse and talk to someone, anyone else. I sit with my friends and I try to pretend that I never did that sort of thing again But I'm lying to myself. And suddenly it's as clear as clear could be: I'm not quite the perfect man that I hoped I'd be. And though I alwasy tried to live an honest life, to tell the truth I've told my share of lies. I remember you, of course I do, but I don't recall how many times we've been though Our little game, that always ends the same, with you sad and me far away. And every time I repeat the line that the fault's not mine and I wasn't unkind, But the worst part is that I've got nothing else to say. All the pretty little pictures of faith and firm devotion that I painted as a child; They have fallen by the wayside, along with all my puppy-fat, But my days have taught me this: That every day I spend pretending that I always choose the right path Is a day that I choose the wrong. My wisdom teeth have been giving me grief; They woke me up to find that I'm exactly the kind Of guy I said that I'd rather be dead Than be in the days before I got laid. Sunshine State I remember the day - the day when I had to take you to the airport And put you on a plane, and so you left me. Left me alone on an empty tube train, deep under the ground, While you were bathed in sunlight, high above the clouds. I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town. California's had more than its fair share. You left me to these small skies, and to rain-soaked concrete, To Morrissey and Robert Smith and complicated streets I know, On which you lost your patience and your way, The way you always did on steel grey rainy days. I needed you here to be my sunshine in London town. California's had more than its fair share Of beating summer sun and shining seas, But it doesn't have a shred of honesty. I know the truth - yeah, Neil Young and Joni Mitchell were Canadians. I guess that makes sense - they had their fill and then they moved away again. You're not alone, we all sometimes use words that we don't understand. Your "love" was only just skin deep and in the end it gave me cancer. You might have been my sunshine, but I'd rather have a rainy day. California gets just what it deserves. This Town Ain't Big Enough For The One Of Me A free house, a sound-system and a fridge full of beer; I've known how this story ends for a good few years. The night lays out before my eyes, there's no new faces, no surprises. This town is growing old with me, so I'm making a move. Everybody round here's been out with everybody else, Which makes talking to girls hazardous to my health. They've been in this genepool so long they've got wrinkled toes; I don't want all her exes to be people I know. There's millions more fish in the sea, so I'm making a move. I'm bored of this town, bored of this scene, bored of these people, yeah. I'm an expert at pretending that everything is OK, But I'm just a kid and it seems as if I've signed my life away. I need to get out and see what the rest of the world is about. This toen ain't big enough for the one of me, I'm making a move. Every guy with long hair round here is a star, Accorinding to his girlfriend and the way that he holds his guitar. If anyone gets out they stick in the knife, I don't want to get stuck here for the rest of my life. I'm sick of these fuckers, I'm moving on. I still want to be buried here, just like I said, but I'd prefer it if you'd wait until I'm actually dead. It's easy to get caught inside a town that seems to have a hive-mind, But I'm packing up and moving on, When I move out from my parents' house I'm gone, yeah fuck you guys I'm gone. This town ain't big enough for the one of me, So why don't you get from in front of me? We're all going to move to london anyway, so I'll see you in town. Longing For The Day I've been trying to find a way that I could say it you - Say it you, all that I've been trying to say. I've been stuttering my way from here to anywhere - Anywhere you can hear me stutter away. I've been longing for the day, when you would say "Hey, I feel a little fragile today, and I was wondering if I could drop on by?" I've been talking to total strangers in the middle of the night, Because I get so nervous when I dial your number That I never quite punch it in right, in spite of me. So I haven't been as strong as I had thought I'd be, But I think I've been stronger than you would concede. So let's do that exercise where you close your eyes And fall back onto me, and you will see I'm strong after all. I will lift you up if you'll lay me down. So today could be the day when we both say "Hey, I feel a little fragile today, and I was wondering if I could drop on by?" So I won't be nervous when I dial your number in the middle of the night. I will clear my throat, then I'll sing this song, And I'll be out the door and round before the first of the new day's light. Nashville Tennessee From the heart of the Southern Downs, to the North-East London reservoirs, From the start, the land scaped my sound, before I'd ever been to America. And if I knew anybody who played pedal steel guitar, I'd get them in my band and then my band would get real far, But I was raised in middle England, and not in Nashville Tennessee, And the only person in my band is me. A simple scale on an old guitar, and a punk rock sense of honesty. I cannot fail, I've got this far with no knowledge of mid-west geography. And if I knew anywhere where I could drive in a straight line For hours in the desert, I'd drive for hours at a time. But I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville Tennessee, And the only person in this car is me. And yes I'm in four-four time, and yes I use cheap cheap rhymes, But I try to make a sound my own. I know I don't break new ground, many have travelled this sound, But I try to make it sound like home. Well I've been to Texas state, I didn't think it was that fucking great, And Nebraska is just a bunch of songs, Holloway and Hampshire where I belong. And I don't know anybody who plays pedal steel guitar, All the city roads are twisted and I do not own a car. I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville Tennessee, And the only thing I'm offering is me. Thatcher Fucked The Kids Whatever happened to childhood? We're all scared of the kids in our neighboorhood; They're not small, charming and harmless, They're a violent bunch of bastard little shits. And anyone who looks younger than me Makes me check for my wallet, my phone and my keys, And I'm tired of being tired out Always being on the lookout for thieving gits. We're all wondering how we ended up so scared; We spent ten long years teaching our kids not to care And that "there's no such thing as society" anyway, And all the rich folks act surprised When all sense of community dies, But you just closed your eyes to the other sidev Of all the things that she did. Thatcher fucked the kids. And it seems a little bit rich to me, The way the rich only ever talk of charity In times like the seventies, the broken down economy Meant even the upper tier was needing some help. But as soon as things look brighter, Yeah the grin gets wider and the grip gets tighter, And for every teenage tracksuit mugger There's a guy in a suit who wouldn't lift a finger for anybody else. You've got a generation raised on the welfare state, Enjoyed all its benefits and did just great, But as soon as they were settled as the richest of the rich, They kicked away the ladder, told the rest of us that life's a bitch. And it's no surprise that all the fuck-ups Didn't show up until the kids had grown up. But when no one ever smiles or ever helps a stranger, Is it any fucking wonder our society's in danger of collapse? So all the kids are bastards, But don't blame them, yeah, they learn by example. Blame the folks who sold the future for the highest bid: That's right, Thatcher fucked the kids. Casanova Lament I check that I've got all my things before I leave the house, Because when I'm gone I'm never coming back. I'm not being melodramatic, it's just I neither have your number or a key. An evening spent pretending that we're just becoming friends, Or this goes any further than going back; I'm not being pessimistic, it's just you and I were never meant to be. It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was. I've picked up this silly habit in the last few years of going out In the evening with my friends into the town, Of packing a spare T-shirt in my bag in case I do not make it home. It's pathetic and I know it, but the truth is there've been mornings I've proved prudent taking toothpaste to the pub. But that's precious little comfort against the knowledge of the person I've become. It isn't love, but every time I kind of wish it was, And I can see that in your eyes you wish it was, But every time I leave you just because It isn't love. I Really Don't Care What You Did On Your Gap Year We were only supposed to go out for the night, But it's been a few hours now since it got light - We're a mess, and the worst part is we couldn't care less. There's water in the ash-tray and ash in the sink, The carpet's mostly soaking, but there's nothing to drink - We're a state, and we're starting to regret staying awake. And I'll pay for my sins when I get paid, I'll stop talking to girls when I get laid. I should have gone home when I could, but I stayed. But then I never was the clever one. We were only supposed to go out for the night, I did my best to go home but in the end I lost the fight with myself - To be honest I was hoping I'd go home with someone else. And right about now I should be starting my day, But instead I am sat here downing the dregs of yesterday, All the while trying to prop up both ends of my smile. And I'll pay for my sins when I get paid, I'll stop talking to girls when I get laid. I should have gone home when I could, but I stayed. But then I never was the clever one, But always the one to not see that I'm done and I need to go home and get to sleep, Always the last to see the moment has passed and I need to admit my defeat. And I'm lonely - there, I said it. I'm lonely, but it's hard to admit it When everbody thinks that you're fine all the time and you're not. So we were only supposed to go out for the night... But who am I kidding? Try as I might I can't stop Until I've squeezed out every last drop. And I'll pay for my sins when I get paid But I don't have a penny to my name. I'll stop talking to girls when I get laid But I haven't had a shower for days. I should've gone home when I could but I stayed, And so I stay up alone, And set off on my own To the station where I catch the first train. Worse Things Happen At Sea Honestly, relax my dear, it's clear that we are done. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out that one - It's obvious, the way you move, the way you hold your head, The way you hide your pretty eyes and shift across the bed. You say 'Worse things happen at sea', I say 'Worse things have happened to me'. Honestly, I'll be fine, this isn't my first time, I've taken blows before and every time I have survived. You made it clear, you didn't care, you never did pretend, And in the end at least you never tried to fuck my friends. You say 'Worse things happen at sea', I say 'Worse things have happened to me'. Bitter eyes to the bedroom floor, And we're not going to talk anymore. Honestly, It doesn't matter, I know better than To cry over spilt milk, wasted effort, spoiled plans. We're adults here, so shed no tears, I'm sure we can be friends; I'll nod and smile and watch you in the arms of other men. You say 'Worse things happen at sea', I say 'Worse things have happened to me'. Bitter eyes to the bedroom floor, And we're not going to talk anymore, We've got nothing to talk for. Well honestly, your honesty, it has emerged unscathed. I hope you're doing fine, because me, I'm doing fucking great. I wouldn't want to waste another second of your time - I know my place, I know your face, So you hide yours and I'll keep to mine. You say 'Worse things happen at sea', I say 'Worse things have happened to me'. Bitter eyes to the bedroom floor, And we're not going to talk anymore, We've got nothing to talk for, And you've got nothing to be sorry for, And I've got no one to care for. This is the worst thing that's happened to me. I guess worse things happen at sea.