cooling towers

cooling towers

 Boston, Massachusetts, USA
BandAlternativeRock

A suicide note. A love letter to the editor. The feel good hits of 2012.

Biography

Please write to
commodorevic@gmail.com

Videos available here:
www.youtube.com/commodorevic

Lyrics

Swords

Written By: A.D.Bouchard

Kiss the bottle, kiss my faction
Make a statement, take some action
Fight for jesus, fight for fashion
Get up on that cross, my stallion

Dying over words
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Swallowing the shards
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Shooting off your mouth and you’re
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Lapping up the sick, you prick
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!

If it comes together with sweat and tears
It can break apart so easy
Don't you slip into the well
And sink just like this ship of state

Dying over words
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Swallowing the shards
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Shooting off your mouth and you’re
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!
Lapping up the sick, you prick
FALLING ON YOUR SWORD!

All stirred up falling on swords.
Falling on swords
Gathering up your words
Keep a good face and keep in good faith -
Falling on swords, falling on your sword

Bodies & The Bombs

Written By: A.D.Bouchard

Alive and unbound,
blending into the crowd
she's covered in sound
And it's so very loud

She was just a ghost
then she was somebody's mom
she made herself the toast
of the all the bodies and bombs

Bless that woman
and her vacuum child
she had the willingness to hide
and kept her temperament mild
All the tender trappings
are constantly weighed
for the purest intention
to be somebodies' slave

She was just a ghost
then she was somebody's mom
she made herself a toast
To the all the bodies and bombs.

Alive and unbound,
blending into the crowd
she's covered in sound
And it's so very loud

Lick the salt from her skin
bathe in the lake that she was borne in
grab the sword from above her head
And save her from this ending.

HMV

Written By: A.D.Bouchard

Well you can't talk to me
And He can't tell me no
I've got - His Master's Voice
And it makes you cower when I crow

Cower When I Crow
You will cower when I crow

Yeah, She can't talk to me
And She can't tell me no
I've got - His Master's Voice
And it lights her up and make her glow

It Makes Her Glow
It Makes Her Glow

(I've got ) His Master's Voice

Chelsea Girls

Written By: A.D.Bouchard

In case you haven’t noticed
In case your mother wrote this
I’ve been down a spell
I spent four years next door to Hell

Now I’m reborn
With a face like Rip Torn
Eating for two and loving for one

Then I think of Chelsea girls
Wasting, having fun
Sick of mirror’s beauty
Jealous of no one

I’ve got my arms around you
In love’s embrace
Choking out the embers
And the color from your face

Then I think of Chelsea girls
Wasting, having fun
Sick of mirror’s beauty
Jealous of no one

One day we’ll have children and
We’ll name them after dad
With all our luck and all our breeding
They’ll be mongrels acting bad
They’ll be misbehaving proudly
And embarrassing their folks
Making love to furniture and
Learning how to smoke

Then I think of Chelsea girls
Wasting, having fun
Sick of mirror’s beauty
Jealous of no one

Lead Suitcase

Written By: A.D.Bouchard

Chained to a suitcase
Made of lead
By the time you read this
I will be dead
At the bottom of the river / and frogs don’t have gills

In the bed of a pickup truck / under the stars I found my mind
I was acting mean even when I was trying to be gentle and kind
I’m uncertain of everything / I have been shown
Please take my hand / I’m afraid to be alone!

Put your seat-back in its / Upright position
Who got you barefoot / and pregnant in the kitchen
Was it God, or the family tree?
Was it a million swimming reproductions of me?

Chained to a suitcase
Made of lead
By the time you read this
I will be dead
Lungs full of salt water / and a stomach full of diet pills.

Some people read the news / other people make it
I’ve sunk low enough I think I’m / ready to fake it so
Peel off my face / give me a blinding smile
Swap out my brown eyes / and leave them in a pile
Oh baby / It’s a sales man’s world (REPEAT)

Chained to a suitcase
Made of lead
By the time you read this
I will be dead
At the bottom of the river / and frogs don’t have gills