Crusade in Miniature

by White Skunk

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01:00
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01:55
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credits

released August 19, 2015

WHITE SKUNK is
Scott – vocals, keyboards, guitars, noises
Mike – bass, noises

with
Nic D'Orsaneo – drums
Marcelyn Lebovitz – background vocals
Jenn Oliver – piano

Thanks to David Berkovits, Chris Batten, Kevin Seamon, Scott Mangan, Jesse Scarborough, Adam Rabin, Queenixville, and the saxophone bong. With apologies to Rick Ducommun, Michael Jackson and Prince.

Recorded and produced by Mike at Hygienic Studios (Portable), summer 2015.

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

White Skunk Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

We stink.

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Track Name: Drug Busk
While you go and set your life by garage Fed time
Lookin’ out for the next drug busk underground fine.
Changin’ nothing but the weeklies
Singing long about short time remote control.

Satan is good.
Satan is our pal.

You’re living in the bicycle race, oughtn't you?
Commingled with the camping gear.
Track Name: LaToya
I’ll pluck a stye from the public eye tonight.
M.J. was a pretty good friend (of mine).
I’ll take a dive for the Jackson 5 tonight.
Tito my germanest of men.

We all fell down on Carolina, they said, “Where have you been?
They’ve been suffocatin’ your life away”
and they all moved out to South Dakota.
And they said, “Where ya been?
They been detonatin’.”

Go back in time to the age of five, alright.
Primates make for decent jailbait,
half-tight new wave babysitter v.d. tonight.

How you gonna learn it?
Kissin’ in Mandarin.
Man, that shit is Greek to me.
I don’t wanna hear it.
Coughin’ in Italian.
Man, that shit is Greek to me.

We all fell back on South Dakota and you said, “Where have you been?
They been pannin’ left to right your life”
and they all moved down to Carolina
and they said, “Where you been?
They been detonatin’.”
Track Name: Crusade in Miniature
Uncertain claims of baggage fates
stashed away your favorite eighth.
To drive my kind out past the gates
across the lines around the states.

All funded by you.

Grab your shit and go back home.
Grab your kid and hit the road.
Grab your shit and go back.
Track Name: The Wages of Sign Language
Hang it all.
Hang it in view of everyone.

Aired to outed.
I’ll be tearing down once a blue room.
I’ll be gettin’ out ‘round your second marriage,
be getting off where the leaves blow by the buffet line.

Caught a mistake, in someone else’s name.
I swear.

Aired to outed.
Countdown to what too?

In the cold New York was changing.
Outside, a hotel widow.
The cold, New York was changing.
Outside, a hotel widow.

We’re dyin’ to know.
How you gonna milk your way outta this one?
How ya gonna stay several steps out the way of running?

We’re silence at a lip reading.
How ya gonna convert a retired nun?

In the cold New York was changing.
Outside, a hotel widow.
The cold, New York was changing.
Outside, a hotel widow.
Cold New York, changing, outside.
Cold New York changing outside.

I never got to Grenada,
but I saw a righteous picture in space.
Cancel it all.

I got gentle plans and I’m comin’ to take you.
You got shady friends, they ain’t comin’ to make you whole.

Cold New York… changing…
Outside, a hotel widow.
In the cold New York was changing.
Outside of a…
Cold New York… changing…
Outside of a…
Cold New York… changing…
Outside a hotel window.

Hang it all.
Hang it in view of everyone.
Omerta stakes.
Microwaved.
Goddamn it.