My Little Danish Friend

by Krylls

My Little Danish Friend Cover Art
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1.
03:20
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2.
03:57
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3.
03:10
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4.
02:53
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5.
04:17
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01:52
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7.
02:26
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8.
04:18
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about

The first Krylls album recorded in a 'real studio', My Little Danish Friend brought us together with Don Fury at the now defunct Cyclone Sound in the waning days of Coney Island aka Spring 2007. Orginally conceived as running longer than the 8 songs and 28 minutes that it clocks in at, the album was cut short when Sean's amplifier went up in flames ( literally ) during recording. My Little Danish Friend languished in purgatory for quite some time. Originally, band inertia kept the album under wraps, but eventually money became an issue as well. Still, who wants to be bored with talk of money, lets talk music: being the whores for the big drum sound that we are, re-recording several songs off of Krylls was a no brainer... Don Fury didn't disappoint - listen to those fills in Pompom Pussy. Damn. That is tasty.

The album is freely available for download, we just ask that you pay what you can afford for the album. Your money will go to paying for equipment, rehearsal time, gas money and all the other luxuries our DIY lifestyle affords us.

credits

released 14 February 2009
Recorded By Don Fury.

tags

tags: punk rock punk Brooklyn

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Track Name: Pierre, SD
Monday’s up at Sunday’s playin Contra on the NES
To practice takin pennies from the penniless
Wednesday’s buying bennies off of Benny’s Jets

Freedom Fighter gunnin at guerrillas under sunny skies
Friday’s gotta kill a couple jungle spies
Reckless ‘cause he knows he’s got a hundred guys

Livin on the sofa in Pierre, South Dakota
Ooh, Coup de grace, Coups d’etat
Ooh, Tour de force, Tour de France

Tuesday used to always pack a silver Colt .45
Spin it on her finger like Sporty Spice
Sure could kill a lot of Indians for her size

Saturday is galloping across a page of Lou L’Amour
Learns to splatter blood across the saloon doors
He’s good but he’ll never beat Tuesday’s score

Livin on the sofa in Pierre, South Dakota

Monday’s child got malaria
And at little Fort Laramie
Tuesday broke her own treaty
Wednesday’s child picked holes in his arms
But Thursday’s equipped
With a first aid kit
Friday’s child became a columbine flower
Saturday got hammered
Sunday’s a disaster
Track Name: Mustangs N Madras
You got wheels when you want ‘em
You got friends when you need ‘em
You get fucked when you want love
You get love when you want some
Do you want some?

Mustangs and madras
Mustaches and badges
We’re all white trash
We all light matches
It scratches, it catches
And we fall like ashes
Do you want some?
Track Name: Son of a Pig Farmer
i play geetara
i'm che guevara
i blast sandanista
soy anarchista
ANARCHY!!!

you're just a little boy
with your rah rah rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand
broken down and built back up
a boot licking revolutionary chump
yeah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand

haha

you know i'm a changed man
revolution was a keg stand
you know che looks down from heaven
and he wishes he had all these guilty pleasures
everything is all so messy
everybody's got to compromise
why does that mean old man
keep trying to cut me down to size
ANARCHY!!!

you're just a little boy
with your rah rah rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand
broken down and built back up
a boot licking revolutionary chump
yeah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand

you're just a little boy
with your rah rah rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah-rah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand
a broken down and built back up
boot licking revolutionary chump
yeah
i'm just a mean old man
but i got this hahahahahaha in my hand
Track Name: Pompom Pussy
Ba da da da, about a bumble bee

Ground down under my fist
Ground down, you know you won't be missed
You made my shit-shit list

Ba da da da, about a bumble bee

In my monkey dreams
I'm jesus christ and mr. clean
So stately and serene

Ba da da da, about a bumble bee

Scratch 'em off from the top of the list
Scratch 'em off with my chicken fist
You made my shit-shit list

Ba da da da, about a bumble bee

Take a mortar and pestle and make a gritty paste
It's black and it's yellow with a bitter taste
For all your crackers and pretzels all your cookies and cakes
It's about a bumble bee
Track Name: Antonym
It's automatic: pull the lever once again.
It's democratic, and also republican.
It's automatic: pull the lever again.
Small-d democratic, lowercase republican.
As goat follows goat up to the hooded bloke's stump,
So vote follows vote off the buffalo jump.
And the chosen bull sleeps with the matador
And the sheep kiss the creeps in their own abattoir

Fuck your republic, with its rah-rah-rah battle hymns,
I want an olympic god throwing thunderbolt javelins
I'll vote against the vote and I'll rant for the antonym
Let's go Fascist! Monarch! or Monotheistic!

If our queen is charitable, she'll give cake to each
of her subjects.
And even if she isn't kind, I don't think that I'll
mind.
Which is worse: oppression or mass suicide?

Fuck your republic, with its rah-rah-rah battle hymns,
I want an olympic god throwing thunderbolt javelins
I'll vote against the vote and I'll rant for the antonym
Let's go Fascist! Monarch! or Monotheistic!
Track Name: Of Cool
Why did you tell me I was dying if you knew it wasn’t science?

Forever and ever, 33 revolutions
measured to the center. Sooner, never.

Round, round, round.
Why don’t you turn it over?
Why don’t you turn it up?
Why did you turn it down?
Why did you turn it out?

Get better and better, collector of cool records, signed letters, cap feathers.
Track Name: Suckerpunch
that lily livered suckerpunch
done lifted my weight
head spinning round
til i hit the concrate
hands going up
as the legs came down
blood spilling out
as the snake unwound

contact made
in the black of an eye
deathwish motherfucker
wanting me to die
slipshod footing
trouble braking in the wake
looking round for a sucker
with bones to brake

shit kicking monkey boys
receeding to a crack
turn off the lights
really tripping to the black
smoke stone phillies
turning gray with ash
it all comes down
to who gets the last laugh

now i stand and deliver
to the whisper of the crowd
but they'll never understand
cos understanding ain't allowed
but they always come here looking
though the answers in their hands
so i look 'em in the eye
and deliver my demands

state my intentions
as the tension gets a grip
and i feel myself sliding
like the sweat above my lip
i nod and move slowly
as the push becomes a shove
while i look to other people
and pray to god above

kneelin' in the darkness
with my elbows on the bed
my hand caresses the necklace
and its figure made of lead
i mouth the words slowly
to the verses in my head
and state my acquiescence
to a savior that is dead
Track Name: Scratch
Drunk as hell or it’s just amnesia
It’s your ticket to ride, it’s your ticket to leisure
Rock, paper, suicide: that’ll fix it forever
When you scratch out your pride
Disappointment is pleasure

Residue of hope’s veils
Under my fingernails
It only takes a nickel to scratch out a mil
I want to stomp the cement and start an earthquake
The more that I spend the more that I make

All the world is a dungeon
All roulette is Russian
All that could’ve been wasn’t

Ha, ha, ha I gotta get this out
Scratch
Scratch out my eyes
Don’t let your guard down and let the demons in