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Get Up Get Out Get Gone EP

by Paul Chesne Band

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Get up get out get gone Let’s talk about what my problems are exactly what the truth is You come to my house and you wanna a drink I could just as easily go to sleep It’s not the drink, the drugs, or the careless love It's multiple choice it’s all of the above It could have just have easily been A or C But the way things are goin’ it can only B D Get up Get out Get gone Lil baby can’t you see She could walk out with my shaving cream Clean me out of my pills I can’t imagine what else of my valuables She would have the guts just to steal I checked my guitars and my piggy bank She left them but that girl sure could drink She drank my booze and she smoked my dank She took my pills, thanks but no thanks Oh me o my o You know just exactly what to do A Little baby can’t you see D That I’m a reaction A E To all this predictable made up news A D A I’ve been skeptical from square one of your accent A E A But who am I to question you
Lovable Loser Lovable loser You’re late for the game You ain’t got much goin’ on No one can remember your name They just call you loser Just happy you called Pick up the phone too quick You gotta honor that thought Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel sometime Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel somehow Lovable loser You get deeper in debt Maxed out credit cards You owe me Why don’t you call me loser So I can write you a song And you can reject it I’m used to that anyway Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel sometime Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel somehow 2 time loser 1 time quitter No time winner All time loser You bet on 1 horse to win Nobody showed You didn’t even place Nowhere to go Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel sometime Everybody got to hit The bottom of the barrel somehow
Sour Grapes 05:05
Sour Grapes Life give me sour grapes I’ll make wine When it starts to flood I drink Like a diver deep in the ocean I’m knee deep in pure devotion 20,000 leagues below what people think Life give me empty bottles I’ll make moonshine You can’t stop movin’ I’ll make you a still No matter what your trip implies You don’t have to worry your pretty little mind I’ll give you 20 bucks for every man that you kill Not even Jesus, no he ain’t gonna save ya And I’m not gonna take on all of your guilt You better talk to your mama Before somebody else will And if we drink up all the wine And the storm gets too severe You don’t have to worry your pretty little mind You don’t have to go searchin’ online Cuz I got what you need right here
Geographically undesirable revised capo 2nd fret Dm G geographically undesirable C Am emotionally unavailable Dm G financially unstable C G what have I got to offer you Dm G inherently unemployable C Ami company unenjoyable Dm doesn't read the bible G not sexually viable C Ami what are we gonna do F C make up another excuse I got a hunch but I ain't got a clue You're judging me I ain't judgin' you That's patently untrue chorus Dm Wicked little rascal G you might even call me an asshole C But that would be awful A completely irresponsible F You might even say harmful G malicious & wrongful C Am F C like no child left behind F C Why you give me you number you runnin some kinda hotline Ask a question you answer in kind Learnin' to fall it's like riding a bike F C You could sublet my cubicle if you like I'm not trying to start a brawl The world gets a little lonely sometimes that's all We're just lonely that's all
Blonde Hair Big Tits Blonde hair big tits red Mercedes I hate her guts She drives me nuts Her daddy’s crazy Dumb as a doorknob Her musical tastes lean toward the lame She’s proud of the fact that she listens to KZLA Her hair is a mess She incessantly complains about her ex-es Her bumper sticker proudly displays “Don’t Mess With Texas” Blonde hair big tits red Mercedes Silver spoon Drunk by noon She punched me silly Homecoming queen captain of the cheer leading squad She’s gonna end up an alcoholic just like her mom On her sweet 16 her daddy said the sky’s the limit But she was well beyond their means before they knew She really got Brown hair small titties blue Prius She means well but her credit cards are all at their maxes Solos Bridge A E You got a lotta nerve to say that you are my friend F# B You try to bring me down to a place I’d rather forget You really got Blonde hair big tits red Mercedes I work so hard With no regard It makes her angry Blonde hair big tits red Mercedes I hate her guts She drives me nuts Her daddy’s crazy


released October 13, 2009

Get Up Get Out Get Gone EP


Recorded and produced at Melbourne Studios (Los Feliz) by the band

Drums for Get Up Get Out & Big Tits were recorded in Hell’s Waiting Room at Paxtonia Studios

The band is:

E. Paxton Pryor, IVth: Drums and backup vocals

Stephen Tegel: Bass

Jonny Niemann: Piano, organ and Wurlitzer

Eric “Dutch” Suoninen: Electric guitars

Paul Chesne: Vocals, acoustic guitar and songwriting

Publishing: Ain’t No Love Like Dark Love, BMI

Mixed by Scrote

Mastered by Kevin Bartley

Photo by Melinda Dahl




Paul Chesne Los Angeles, California

Why we play music:

For the love of it. Because we’re hungry. To make people happy and dance. To make all the pretty girls cry. Because we’re high. Because we’re low. Because we’re drunk or ascetic. Because we can’t in good conscience do anything else. ... more

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