Handbook for the Sellout
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
You found a way, to draw a line, between the world and you.
Faking your identity it's true.
Did you think the word "alternative",
was only meant for the likes of you?
Do you think that they're too cool now?
Being popular is lame.
You're the one who made them popular,
all their songs are still the same.
You found them first, it made you stand apart, you know?
But then everyone jumped on the same bandwagon,
making you and average Joe. A lemming for the mediocre,
You were just a plain old joker, status quo.
Blame it on the band now, if you prick them do they bleed?
What's the point in playing what they want,
if you won't let them succeed?
Do you remember where we all came from?
Do you remember what it's all about?
When you made a point to be objective,
before you started writing
Handbook for the Sellout?
You sunk your worth in being different, just to be like your own kind.
You traded in objectiveness, for the underground you follow blind.
Where is Micah?
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr
It's five minutes from the show, so where the heck did Micah go?
I don't know, he's not around, I didn't hear him make a sound.
His whereabouts we could not find, I think we left him behind.
Have you seen him?
Micah, where did Micah go?
Micah, should be at our show,
Micah, guess that we should find him,
Micah, 'cause we kind of like him here.
Poor John Walsh his heart is bleeding, "Have You Seen Him?"
milk jugs reading: does this face ring a bell,
is he lost inside some well?
I think we left him at the show, I think we left him in Toledo.
We've got a roll of duct-tape for, next time he tries to run away.
Come on Micah, it's time for your feeding,
do you want another senseless beating?
Superpowers
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
Bacon bits and jalapenos on my polish hot dog,
half a pound of potato chips, and a beef jerky log.
I press my face to the window, a wrapper sticks to my shirt.
Eight people in a stinky van, a could more couldn't hurt.
Eat some food off the floor. I've developed a taste for bread mold.
Ride around in a van, don't take a shower for six weeks and...
We've been given superpowers, ask us for an autograph.
We sing, we dance, we'll make you laugh, don't you want to be like us?
We've been given superpowers, as about our rock and roll,
our hair, our clothes, hobbies and pets.
Does he have a girlfriend yet?
Everyone in the band can't stand me,
just because I fell off the stage, and kind of by accident,
I broke the promoter's legs.
Sometimes we have a deadline, for writing our songs.
Five minutes left to write this one,
la, la la, la la, la la.
Sleep in a sleeping bag. Every floor looks the same as last night.
You wake up, you drive, you play a show and then you sleep again.
I sometimes feel like I'm Holden Caulfield, sometimes Jack Keroac.
I wanted to be famous, now I want to take it back.
Don't want to rock the mic, don't want to meet the pope,
I just want to share with your how we got this peace and hope.
I once wanted to be famous, now I want to take it back.
Fistful of Sand
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
hard core vocal: Andrew Verdecchio
Up from the sands of the mighty Sahara comes,
our hero bold, who so it's told, is a lot like you and me.
His passion burns, the world it turns, he fills his hand to fill the void,
and fuels the constant feeling, of nothingness inside his soul.
Feels like nothing ever did.
Kills like nothing ever could.
Dark and jaded, world I hated, everything I left behind.
I don't need you, and I don't want you,
world that left me blind.
Beneath the sans of the mighty Sahara lies,
buried treasure, sunken deep, in darkened tombs where dead men sleep.
Gold fills hands, or is it sand, the same that covers everything?
Where cities stood, soon deserts found, now sink beneath the swelling ground.
This world is all for the taking.
This world is suffocating.
Plastic bags of Novocain, some PCP to kill the pain.
Build a tomb to store your rust, moth-eaten piles of blowing dust.
Under the sands of the mighty Sahara, goes our hero bold,
in search of gold, a casket for a dying world.
Our hero stands, with wealth in hands, the prize for his endeavors.
The masses cheer, to hide their fear, that no man lives forever.
Suckerpunch
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
Coke bottle glasses, I'm sitting in the corner,
with my finger up my nose, and my shoelaces untied again,
another day of school with no friends.
A social outcast, two grades ahead in math,
with my high-water pants, giving meaning to pencil-necked-geek,
a dork or so to speak, tongue-in-cheek.
They're all sucker-punching me, get in line for a wedgie.
All I want, and all I need, is someone who believes in me.
A song sung for underdogs, for all the left out.
A flag, flying for losers, somewhere in the Heavens.
The God of ever-lasting comfort, believed in me, loved me when I was faithless,
he still died for me.
Junior High schooler with pencils in my pockets, and my Trapper Keeper busted,
spilling papers and books on the floor, not wanting seventh grade anymore.
Another class-clown, acting like a goof to be accepted by my peers,
giving meaning to pencil-necked-geek,
a dork or so to speak, tongue-in-cheek
Blue Comb '78
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
Summer of 1978. My sister and I in the back seat just wait.
We pass the time by making lines on the seat that we can't cross,
a thin line like dental floss.
She threw my new blue comb out the window, somewhere on I-70.
Dad said, "I'm sorry, we can't go back,"
we're never going back to get it. It was the first comb I ever had.
Got it just that morning from my mom and my dad.
Light blue in color, I could never find another comb like that, big and fat...
So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Last time I saw it, it was in her hands, and then it was bouncing down the road.
It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown, but now it might be from lying on the ground.
So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Driving down the road in September, I was only five but I still remember,
where the highway turns at the bottom of the hill,
my parents both up front, 'cause they loved each other still.
Maybe just a comb made of plastic, or an action of a sibling acting couth,
but something that was thrown out that window,
was the last great symbol of my youth.
Banner Year
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr
A banner year, 1864, don't want the red man anymore,
can't have him taking up good land.
Give them a token flag, trade pipes and shake some hands,
tell them the white stripes stand for peace.
Say if they raise red white and blue, bluecoats will never shoot at you,
but stripes will lose their sheen.
Black Kettle was their chief, he only wanted peace, under the flag...
A massacre at Sand Creek.
Wave your flag. Salivate. Stirring feelings of pride and hate.
A peace of cloth can't hold your faith.
No flag flies, no banner waves, see the empty pole above his empty grave.
No one knows where he lies, and no one knows just why he had to die.
A banner year 1868, a bitter end a twist of fate.
Maps won't hold this melanoma, blurry part of Oklahoma,
where Custer shot and killed Black Kettle.
A promise is a promise, a judge of character.
His banner over me is love.
Second Season
words & music by Dennis Culp
Lead vocals by Dennis Culp
I wonder if these minutes were my last, if I should choose to feast or start to
fast.
Would I pray or would I curse, hope for good or something worse?
What emotion would I feel? Would I run or would I kneel?
Time is winding down but only for this life.
I want to be found enjoying the next life.
I see leaves and they are starting to turn brown.
They'll be green and growing when the second season comes around.
The strongest will expire just the same, the quick will fall exactly like the
lame.
I'll do nothing at the most to keep from giving up the ghost,
try to make my shoulders broad, but I am helpless without God.
I may try to grip control, but when for me shall this bell toll?
If the answer is to bow, to him that makes how soon is it now?
Litmus
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
Disturbed by the words and the message that they sent.
There's a hundred other uses for breath better spent.
Forming the template, for how the band should be,
devising and scheming someone else's ministry.
What were the words? Did he say Jesus Christ?
Again and again until his name became trite?
What is the extent of all your tests? What is the measure of their success?
Not acid or base to test in a beaker, hold your divining rod up to the speaker.
Litmus test a piece of paper. You'll never formulate your maker.
With pocketfuls of quips and gurgles, words that fluff like a handful of
gerbils.
I heard your yelling above the crowd, standing in the back with the arrogant and
proud.
You say preach, they say rock, you put my God inside a box.
The time has come, the night to end, so speak your piece to your circle of
friends.
They ripped you off, they entertained.
You thought you knew where God belonged, but songs were sung and the band played
on.
Oh, Canada
words by Reese Roper
music by Micah Ortega & Dennis Culp
Welcome to Canada, it's the Maple Leaf State.
Canada, oh Canada it's great!
The people are nice and they speak French too.
If you don't like it, man, you sniff glue.
The Great White North, their kilts are plaid, hosers take off, it's not half
bad.
I want to be where the yaks can run free, where Royal Mounties can arrest me.
Let's go to Canada, let's leave today.
Canada, oh Canada, I si vous plait.
They've got trees, and mooses, and sled dogs, lots of lumber, and lumberjacks
and logs!
We all think it's kind of a drag, that you have to go there to get milk in a
bag.
They say "eh?" instead of "what?" or "duh?",
that's the mighty power of Canada.
I want to be where the lemmings run into the sea, where the marmosets can attack
me.
Please, please explain to me, how this all has come to be,
we forgot to mention something here.
Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen?
And Slurpees made from venison, that's deer.
Most Likely to Succeed
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
Overzealous to say the least.
Underestimated, how far you could reach.
How could we know, how far you'd go, behind our backs to make sure your point is
heard?
You're better than us all.
Does it really matter how far you go?
Can you get some sleep now, standing on so many toes?
Do what you do when you say what you want to say, with or without regard for me.
Scheme what you scheme when you're thinking of yourself, you're the most likely
to succeed.
The yearbook said that you'd be another winner, you forgot what success should
mean.
The poster child for becoming homeless, Mr. Most Likely to Succeed.
Now that my purpose has been served, make a caste system for a modern worlds.
Your motto rings, "Tomorrow brings, another life to underrate, to belittle
and humiliate."
As you go, call to mind the things you've come to know.
Be sure to wave goodbye, on that day you die, to all that you wanted, you're
leaving behind.
Every New Day
words by Reese Roper
music by Scott Kerr & Dennis Culp
When I was young, the smallest trick of light, could catch my eye,
then life, was new and every new day, I thought that I could fly.
I believed in what I hoped for, and I hope for things unseen.
I had wings and dreams could soar, I just don't feel like flying anymore.
When the stars threw down their spears, watered Heaven with their tears,
before words were spoken, before eternity.
Dear Father, I need You, Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher, every new day again.
When I was small, the furthest I could reach, was not so high,
then I, thought the world was so much smaller, feeling I could fly.
Through distant deeps and skies, behind infinity, below the face of Heaven,
he stoops to create me.
Dear Father, I need You, Your strength my heart to mend.
I want to fly higher, every new day again.
Man versus himself. Man versus machine. Man versus the world. Mankind versus me.
The struggles go on, the wisdom I lack, the burdens keep piling up on my back.
So hard to breathe, to take the next step, the mountain is high, I wait in the
depths.
Yearning for grace, and hoping for peace.
Dear God...Increase.
Healing hands of God have mercy on our unclean souls once again.
Jesus Christ, light of the world burning bright within our hearts forever.
Freedom means love without condition, without a beginning or an end.
Here's my heart, let it be forever Yours, only You can make every new day seem
so new.
All songs copyright 1997 5 Minute Walk Music (ASCAP)