Small Time

by Pasadena Crab Sandwich

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After trying repeatedly and failing, we finally have a recording of some originals. Yes, we understand that 'it IS about time...' And yes, we are excited to have a 'record' just in time for 'tour' and we hope the wait was worth it to at least one of you. We appreciate everyone's support along this road and be ready for LOTS more to be coming soon, thanks!


released June 12, 2014

Harmonica, backup vocals -- Lampchop Zach
Washtub -- Chodo
Guitar, Banjo, Vocals -- Grandpa
Mic cable Loaner -- Josh Stamey



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Pasadena Crab Sandwich Cheyenne, Wyoming

We are a diy rogue folk band from Cheyenne.

Chodo - Uke, Standup, Washtub
Lambchop - Harmonicky, Voice
Grampa - Guitar, Banjo, Voice

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Track Name: Broken Boner
I dont want a funeral and i dont want a wake, i invite my friends and family to dance upon my grave, let me hear you from the other side, awake for one more day, let there be an unpaid ticket from destruction that you make, what do you say?
Sit on the porch, listen to the rain, for hours all, for fucking days, there are cities inside burning, things that i just cant explain, from the lack of the learning or holes in my brain.
(CH)Im not sure if ive got a problem or not, toss it to rot with the thieves, the whores and the bastards, the liars, the drunks, addicts and outcasted, the stakes have been raised and that kills it back down, but ill count the days till it comes back around the way, we've been betrayed, we've been betrayed
Put the paper pushers out the way, you have to subjugate the context, honestly, die or fix your wings and float away, glory's where you find it, your sense of self's behind it, constant, keep in mind everyone dies, we're short on time, we're short on time
What the fuck is wrong with me, parents or geneology, a listing of locality's effects numbered statistically, increasing negativity, a self fulfilling prophecy, or is it more to do with being told the monster you can be, believed?
(CH)Keep the pistol pullin by all means, when they've been shootin, keep a steady pace and distance when your space they been polluting but be sure, just dont end up dead on the floor, we've been betrayed
Track Name: Tramp Sandwich
He was born on a cold evening in fall of '54, he traveled most his life until he died in that same cold, he carried tight his sixgun, didnt take kindly to lip, plucked an old plectrum banjo his grandfather gave to him.

Spent some time behind those iron bars, he's had his time to think, he's come to his conclusions, he just wants to cut the strings of this society, this cancer of public institution, built to breed born sinners and to cast their damnation.

He's wandered o'er backroads and the highways all the same, living from state to state without a penny to his name, speaking of, he didnt have one, least he never did tell me, the smartest man i 'never met', he broke away and he was free

He lives off his sense of self, he's singing on the trails, he's roped himself a hard life in pursuit of something real beyond a debt, or the ties to life destined for destruction, keeping pace with the troubles from his past, been comin back, been chasin him
Track Name: Dominate
Crash another floor out, dream another street. That shit stuck in your nose still dont help you get to sleep. The ground is releasing the heat like a sure-fire network of capillaries on repeat; too fat for ego and too thin to bleed. The system works too well to work. We still breathe, but we've been dead for years, down on our knees. Fake food dreams, all of its been modified genetically. Kill the weak! Make more tvs.
Building camps for dissidents. Buying rounds for every chest. Police state, your rights(have) been spent. Red Scare America, the opposition's bled, and like it or not, there will be death.
Dominate Dominate
Investing in ignorance. Taught to trust in governments with so much vested interest in the prophets and the forced alliances in every land we win.
Dominate Dominate. Threaten them all with a fiery lake, stand them in line, march them to the gates, keep them begging, building slaves to the state. Push out the cures, pull all the strings, highlight the great that this system wil bring, hide out the best in the name of a wealth, thin out the herd as a test of your stealth, kill off a man in the name of yourself.f
Track Name: TV
Dark nights. Perhaps that's why people get spooked, rise to occasions and children die. Perhaps a personal conclusion or the pistol he was using. Dismay and terror or an elaborate lie?
Was he thuggin neighborhoods as he pleased? Or was he just passin through on the wrong fucking street? What does it mean to the case if he smoked a little weed? Its just like race, it shouldnt matter when he bleeds.
Or buy opinion off your TV.
So there ya go. Plenty lessons have been learned. right ones or good? Im not so sure. consult the biased TV stations inciting riots over race, implicating issues of taste, recite 'official press release' to those too dumb to even know. Though i feeel for the family from wihich you stole.
Track Name: Livin' in the City
Livin in the city and i aint got a penny. Sometimes i dont know why i try. Livin in the city and i aint got no pity for a man dead or alive.
Livin in the city and i aint got the rent. Tryin to make ten dollars from my last fifteen cents. Livin in the city, I dont know where it went. Tryin to count back every penny I'd spent.
Livin in the city. Play the guitar for a whiskey and a stout for the road to help me get to sleep. Livin in the city, pick an old time banjo diddy for the old and the weak and the poor in the street.