I Ain't Never Won Nuthin In My Life

by Charles Ray Hastings Jr.

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Recorded, mixed, and mastered over two nights after work on the last days of July 2014.

credits

released August 1, 2014

Recorded at Jam Lamb Studios in Laceys Spring
Engineered, mixed, and mastered by Charles Ray Hastings Jr.
All songs written by Charles Ray Hastings Jr.

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TS/AL Records Alabama

We're a collective that releases stuff from mostly southern artists.

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Track Name: Fuck.
fuck punk news.
fuck good news.
fuck track marks.
fuck hardcore crews.
fuck fast food.
fuck murder food.
fuck holy entitlement.
there is no truth.
fuck nice guys.
fuck bad girls.
we’re all lame and lazy
in the western world.
fuck men who
use the word slut.
you’re the reason
we dont deserve their trust.
fuck my head.
fuck the anger of grown men.
fuck child stars.
fuck celebrity bars.
fuck fox news.
fuck CNN.
fuck both sides
of the argument.
fuck try hards.
fuck die hards.
fuck those who never tried
and laugh from their friend’s car.
fuck bosses.
fuck business owners.
you’re not your title.
you’re not the king of independence.
fuck Alex Jones. fuck glenn beck.
fuck those who sensationalize to piss on my future.
fuck the tea party.
fuck republicans.
fuck anyone intruding
the vagina of my friends.
fuck gun nuts.
fuck libertarians.
please attempt to empathize
and squeeze out a drop of sense
fuck soft grunge.
fuck weed culture.
if you smoke, that’s good
but who needs all those cannabis posters.
fuck car trouble.
fuck friends who don’t work.
we built a system of manual barter.
you’re not exempt and you won’t get hurt.
fuck aggressive males.
fuck the danger they exuthe.
fuck a system where they’re rewarded
for propagating violence as a tool.
fuck wagon wheel.
fuck boring bar bands.
fuck the monetization of art
and performance.
fuck assholes.
fuck funny bones.
fuck god.
fuck those who pretend to speak for him.
fuck racism.
fuck small minds with big mouths.
fuck liberals.
fuck the whole spectrum.
fuck gender roles.
fuck those easily offended.
we endure one another
to become well rounded and grow.
But I’m a sad cook.
what do I know?
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
fuck.
Track Name: Soul Sonata; Viva La Nada
rules and limits of reserve
passed through a burning brush on your brow
did your daddy give you your sense of worry?
the wrinkles born as were you, inherent on your head
free sickly course, following for the light
and as you descend the mount
you’re born to blight and feed the crowd
you’re and they all love you, every version of you
the one who speaks when spoken to
never forgets his notes
trails at the end of his sentences
in order to ease the pain of demand
give us the rules and limit of humanity
what’d the herald spit and squawk for your soul sonata?
cherub rolls with the message on his bow
did you ever know where the message would go?
free tribute to he-holy-hype in the sky
hype trickles down like fame through the lens
sonata well played or you’re the perfect instrument
you’re the blue sweeping over the room or a tool of men
you’re the one who speaks when spoken to
never forgets his notes
trails at the end of his sentences
in order to ease the pain of demand
soul sonata, viva la nada
soul sonata, viva la nada
soul sonata, viva la nada
soul sonata, viva la nada
Track Name: Empty. Empty. Empty.
I'm empty. empty. empty.
wish I was like you.
but I’m hurting. hurting. hurting.
I’ll be empty soon.
I poured every memory into the curve of your brow
when you ask me, “What’s the matter?”
cause it all matters but you can’t see
this is ending.
I'm empty. empty. empty.
wish I was like you.
but I’m hurting. hurting. hurting.
I’ll be empty soon.
I kept myself under the mattress
so no one could steal who I could’ve been
sometimes knowing where you are
is more about the missed turned and the distance
I’m gone and so are you
I’m gone and so are you
I’m gone and so are you
if we stay strong we can call the ending soon.
this is the end
this is us as just friends.
this is maddening.
but it feels about right.
Track Name: Hollow Me In A Flat Mirror
I never loved anybody
I just hovered overhead and watched
as I twisted and squirmed, waiting my turn
to spit the reciprocal on beat
but does anyone ever truly love a thing
not from their own womb?
from the golden sewers of the mind and the sty in your eye
all we do is move along and comply
so piss off, bed the pillow, not the flesh
I’d rather not compete then beg for forgiveness
hollow me in a flat mirror
staring back mad at the wreck I’ve become
paler than sheets left on the front porch of my childhood home
so I turn away, jet stoned, and feel more alone
but does anyone ever truly love a thing
not from their own womb?
from the golden sewers of the mind and the sty in your eye
all we do is move along and comply
so piss off, bed the pillow, not the flesh
I’d rather not compete then beg for forgiveness
Track Name: Kno Faith
there’s a white man in his mid twenties
at a punk show screaming he’s oppressed
I don’t believe him, I don’t believe
when you scream you demand an audience
there’s a farmer in a pasture in Texas
staring warmly at a calf and its afterbirth
in the glory of creation and ascension
he sees death and its dollar worth

I’ve got no faith cause I’ve got eyes
I’ve got no faith cause I’ve got a mind

There’s a girl on a website who lives far away
says I can’t be a feminist, I’m insane
a mother of three tells me I’ve got to want kids
her three are the reason she exists
the waitress serving me coffee says sweet ‘n’ low kills
in her purse there’s a pack of smokes and Lortab pills
my ex once told me I’m too cold to love
she was wrong, I’m too ugly to trust

I’ve got no faith cause I’ve got eyes
I’ve got no faith cause I’ve got a mind
people surprise me and it’s a sure as the sun
as sure as the sun and the blackhole it’ll become
as sure as me in the hollow of the night
that I’ll be drunk and my bed’ll be empty, that’s right

there’s a guy in the photos I can’t see
tired and looking to remove this feeling
maybe with a bottle, maybe with steel
heaven is a darkness where no one can feel
a spark from the cosmos, faint like a flicker of light
when the angst runs out what will feel right
maybe this song will remedy those in the room
but there’s a whole world outside. this is my cue.
Track Name: Muther of Intent
spare a glass, spare a pint
cause love is the trailer park where all the prom queens go to die
with deer heads on the mantel
and children in the yard
spare some cash, spare a lie?
I looked down the barrel of my future and chose to die
spiders in my bed
and horrors in my mind at night
where is the mother of intent,
the bearer of light and the solace of suspense?
my life is not turning out how it should of been
so I think I’ll stop loving, stop caring for now
shut off my mind till the phantom roars of my engine are too loud
then I’ll rev and give a fuck
a fuck to anyone willing to receive
anyone willing to be deceived
and lost in the promise of humanity
Track Name: Stop Trembling. Adulthood is Here.
tremble portly child, your trailer shakes when you walk// your father will never come home’’// the stereos in cars with busted windows and scams of men living between the brick and walls offer more// that trans am your mother bought with her taxes will never be yours// repo men are on their way to take your t.v., your mother, your stepfather, your brothers// the love in the cool spots of your pillow case

tremble confused teen with your bad haircut and godawful smell// your father will never come home// you see him more in the paper than on the couch, crushing pills and crying, bleeding on the new carpet with shards of the lamp in his hands// he will never give you the gun in his left boot// or the gun in his right boot but he will let you sit next to him as he burns tires in the backyard crying, drinking, wishing for another five year sentence

tremble young man, now too old to care
your father has murdered an innocent man
it’s good you share a name, you both cry when you’re drunk
maybe the crack of bone as you hit the bathroom stall over and over again will ring beyond the reputation in your veins

now adulthood is here
stop trembling
stare on and work
Track Name: The Love and Affection We Seek and to Tell(2.0)
Dekramo once told me suffering is not success. You can’t measure yourself by hunger pains as an artist. I met the man in New Orleans, we talked a lot on oak street. He talked of old lovers and A.A. and I spoke of youth and all my mistakes

he thought I was selling my body / / I was just trying to soak my mind / / I played him a few tunes / / and he said simply, You’re not honest enough.

Dekramo once told no artist does good work before 25
you’re too worried about the end and not living your life
you gotta break yourself, like an egg over a blade
stand back from the mess and let yourself be

he cried when talking about his first love. he cried in anger when he spoke of his mother and I knew how I looked finally. Talking about my mom and my troubles

dekramo once told me art isn’t hell. It’s the love and affection we seek and to tell.
Track Name: Give a Little More(2.0)
it’s not the whiskey that makes me sad
the sadness was there before
it’s not the gin that makes me hateful
I’ve been filled with hate most my life

cause it all trickles down cept money and love
those you have to hurt people for
so ball up your fist and accept a kiss
in the south we always give a little more

it’s not the beer that makes conversations
it’s the beer that keeps me too dull to cut
it’s not the green that makes me forgetful
it’s the green that helps me laugh

cause it all trickles down cept money and love
those you have to hurt people for
so ball up your fist and accept a kiss
in the south we always give a little more

Oh I was raised racist and violent
but I sweated it all out with whiskey and blankets.
It wasn’t the books I read that turned me left
it was the dysfunction and discord behind the rebel cry

cause it all trickles down cept money and love
those you have to hurt people for
so ball up your fist and accept a kiss
in the south we always give a little more