All songs written by Georgia McDonald between 2010-2014
Georgia McDonald – Guitar and vocals
Hugh McDonald – Bass in What Do You Mean? and Footscray Station.
Recorded, mixed and mastered at Hugh McDonald Studios, Kew.
Cover art by Morty.
I like my women imported and baby, I like you. I want your ex deported so I can freely make out with you because I like you, and I’d do anything to make you come to my house and stay until the late afternoon. And I like your British accent, your dreadlocks and the fact that you rarely wear shoes, and I really like the way you like me and the language that you use coz I like you, and I’d do anything to spread your legs are really long hence why I wrote this shitty song. And I like you so much that I’m starting to say your name in my sleep, and I like you enough to invite you to my house every other week to boldly go where many men have gone before you came about and turned my underwear inside out. I cut a piano in half but I still couldn’t find you the music, and I cut that bitch in half but I still couldn’t find you the beauty, and I burned those forests that we’d never see and that same to those books that we’d never read, still you saw the best in me, and I went to Blackburn and back but I still couldn’t find our purpose, I collected you Pokémon cards without realizing they were worthless, and I severed ties that would never meet and that same to those bridges that we’d never need, still you saw the best in me, Maggie. Yeah you saw the best in me. Maggie, because I’m in awe of you, and I’d do anything to make you my future wife, the spark to my light and the breath to my life.
Track Name: What Do You Mean (The Bank's Out of Money)
I could never write poetry so I try to tell the truth, though sometimes I get in trouble when I sing about other people, but I know that you’ll be there for me with a cone of green and some nicotine, and when you’re not home I’ll hang your washing out to dry. Paying attention to overtones and talking in short hand with you, just sitting in dad’s bedroom while the acid kids talk shit and I got mistaken for Italian again; it was the second time this week, I’m sick of having to explain to people that I am actually Greek. But I’m still trying to try to try to remember what life was like before I got tired and it helps to have your body standing next to mine, but this is just what being human’s like. Doing the dishes when you’re not home and writing this song in your room, giving up after twenty minutes and catching up on Breaking Bad. It used to be that everything was an attempt to impress you, buy you showed me where I want to be and that’s exactly where I’m heading to. When the conscience of the nation is still standing in the street, wondering what happened, how the man lost his compassion, and I can’t believe it’s twenty-fourteen and we’re still fighting for equality, and the minister for my gender is a racist, homophobic misogynist. But I’m still trying to try to try to remember what life was like before I got tired and it helps to have your body lying next to mine, but this is just what being human’s like. We never told my grandpa that my parents broke up, and we never even told him about the death of this eldest son, and even when he fell and broke his hip he would still stand when a stranger entered the room so he could shake their hand. How I aspire to be like that man. But thank god I’m an atheist or else I wouldn’t be able to think like this, coz I’m not going to waste my life apologizing to some pedophile and feeling bad about the girls I liked but I lied about being the punk-rock type, but when she leaned against my car, she drank whiskey and played guitar, that’s how she stole my heart. But I’m still trying to try to try to relive what life was like before we all got tired and it helps to have your body lying on top of mine, but I never want this feeling to end but I spend my days waiting to go to bed.
Track Name: Musing Of 16 Year Old Georgia Mcdonald
Wendy from Family First is a complete and utter moron, her political views are backwards; she says it’s all about the children, but I don’t want to live in a G rated Australia, I love my free pornography and enthusiastic strippers. Now you know my secret. And I’ll still go to rallies with all my friends, pushing for something that we’re going to get and I am going to walk with my head held high next to a beautiful, long legged transvestite, her heels are so high. Well, well now Miss Gillard, it seems that you are a bit of a coward, just giving us good internet still won’t move Australia forward, you’re not as green as the Greens though you’re more liberal than the Liberals, but you believe in change so you’re the lesser of two evils. Yeah, yeah. So fuck you Mr. Abbott if you say I’m not your equal, I’m going to fuck your daughter and then I’m going to burn a bible, and if I wanna marry Maggie, you can bet your ass I’m going to, see I don’t believe in budgie smugglers but I’m not stopping you. So, fuck you.
Track Name: Footscray Station
As you kissed me under the influence that night, it was Christmas Eve and you said to me that I was the strangest creature that you had ever seen, we made love on dirty laundry, awkwardly, listening to David Bowie, and you closed your eyes, and I said goodbye. And all my life I’d never heard a man that can make a guitar sound like the way you can, oh I saw a cross on the wall, found myself in St. Vincent’s Hospital screaming “I don’t wanna die in this place, don’t wanna leave this world in such a state”, I always knew it was never my fate coz the only constant we’ve ever known has been change. And our house got robbed again, they stole Tom’s bike and a GPS and I’m running home again from Footscray Station. Don’t bother stealing my wallet because I’m still earning minimum wage, don’t even bother stealing my phone because the screen’s fucked anyway, and everything I ever cared for before was lost in the fires so long ago when I moved away from home, ended up on an open road. When you closed the door behind you it sounded like you couldn’t wait to leave. Love, I know, I’m not that stupid, please don’t try to patronize me, and you’ve made your bed, now let her fuck you up in it and fuck you over in it and fuck you around in it all over and over and over and over again. Now there’s blood on Scott Morrison’s hands, there’s a rally in the city if you wanna meet there and I’m running as fast as I can to Footscray Station. And the sky is stained by the city, it isn’t petty but it’s exactly what it deserves. And our house got robbed again, they stole your phone and the cigarettes from our cozy little nest near Footscray station, where the walls are paper thin, and the trucks are loud so I can sing how I wanna be here more than anything. And then there’s you, and Lentils too.