Dad's Best Shirt

by DAADs

  • Streaming + Download




released February 22, 2011

Your Father is:
Sweatshop Dad: bass, guitar, pouty coma
Lazy Bathrobe Dad: stern talkings-to, keyboard
Farm Dad: guitar, bass, assisted talkings-to
Business Dad: drums, faces
Combover Dad: guitar, tough love

All songs by DAADs; All lyrics by Lazy Bathrobe Dad
Recorded at the office, Jan.-Feb. 2011




DAADs Ithaca, New York

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Track Name: Immobile Sex
I saw you floating there
At the gab coral
Your colony might be big
But baby, you ain't got morals
Tentacles flowing like hair
Your stylish sting
Get me hot and bothered
I took you to the bar
But your basal disc said
No no no no no no no
Shook your barrier hips
But no no no no no no
Stay here
I'll save ya
Don't mind those other jellies
I need that deep-sea company
Oh mamma medusa
Pop my polyp
Tropical relations
Perfect for a topical debate
Better get a ready
Make me a dad
African tropics
Nigerian cnidarians
Track Name: Carnal Cowboys
How can I believe sir
With 7 whiskeys on his breath
You’re a Clint Eastwood type danger
To the land
All my men
Stand with bullets in their chest
Painting landscapes
Churches look like hell
Let my spectacles
Melt your fucking words
Ant hilled, corn holed gullets
I snort the mines
For mother Prussia
For my damned conscious
Colonies of cascading cuckolds
Keeping the game fucking red
Though small you pack that
Tequila punch
A lesson to learn over and over again
Welcome home, welcome home

Gimme that little bit of leg
Before I wash you with the rest
The red riverbank
Fucking stank
Crying and humping away
Every day
Help me you beardy boy
Gimme some of that friction estate
Riding into heated,
Pulsing, blurred terrain
Without the slightest refrain
If I were a book would you read
me? If I were a book would you
read me? Would you find me at the
library? What would you file me under,
reference? Would you clean my cover?
Would you rub my spine? Would you
read me?
Summer is baking our heads
And we can’t think straight
Track Name: Teen Towne and Weenie Roast
Our children might be perverts
Lock them in the cage
Keep their minds on stun
Sit back and drink
Everything will be ok
It’ll never be ok
Shrink-wrap is out of the question
Don’t wrap it up
Just choke on it
Just choke on the words we say
And if you aren’t blessed
Satan will rub you down
And lube you up
And the filth will be caked in the
Back of your eyes
Why don’t you fight in wars?
That is what set me straight
Now only god and country can
Get me hard anymore
Insert my rod A into your slot B
Making hellion babies
And crying like rivers
Boys shouldn’t play with boys
That’s what the scouts are for
That’s what our faith is for
Visiting your children every night
Is worse than drinking
It’s disgusting, it’s disgusting
It’s disgusting, it’s disgustin
My head breathes a sideway shape
While you talk
I bet she does
I recognize those stains
Spit saints
She’d love to swallow
Your loads of fun
Give her time to get ready
Who knows what
The fucks in store
Gimme more
Track Name: Butter Me, Hamm
Be wary, safety lies in fear
Fuck you dad don’t watch me here
Your forehead tastes like
Tenders a suggestion
Drifting off, I forget myself
I see my father in my mind’s eye
My friend saw him too
Great thing we ain’t kosher
Time is out of joint, and so are we
As I was sewing in my closet
I patched the palest of pants
For Hamm, who stared
Shooting thoughts from his eyes
Shoot it out, but not on ma’ pigtails
Why is day is time is night is moon

More metter, more better butter
Like father like uncle like son
You weren’t the only one
Feed on me,
Edible Oedipus
Stomping on countries
For literary progress
Writing books based on me
And my lives with wives overseas
Willie had a goatee
One day he shaved it off
His friends gave him shit for it
So he took a knife
Found the roots
Grew it back
Made it into a documentary
It was produced by Picturehouse
Track Name: Older Than Old Navy
Driving around in my Bummer Car
Knees squeezing my temples
Blood flowing to my pupils
Running late for Cigarette Christmas
Feeling the unlucky strike, drunk on Keystone Light
We were born in 1992
That would make us older then Old Navy
Accordionado aficionados
Disease can be a social thing
Living in a plastic playhouse
Subsiding on heart accessories
At home you put different clothes on
At home you’re teasing me
Showing off your see-through rain coat
Showing off your bachelor’s degree
Father’s busy at the sawmill
Mother’s tied to the railroad track
Completely free from distraction
Holiday nails digging stiff backs
Striped clothes and a heart attack
Family fashion trendsexuals
Setting to spend
Your plaid shorts cause tricks
Just like a 90’s personality
You dress like a son
Track Name: Juniper Hill High School Insane Asylum Blues
Strange animals, like snakes, in a hole
Gray matter women dancing
Way down in the belly of a snake pit
I don’t care because I just don’t care about him anymore
I was a doggy or a little girl
Selfishness is a good sign of sanity
Bury your memories
Don’t go out with boys
You went to New York to rub it
Husbands and fathers can’t be the same thing
No they can, can’t they?
Find the fucking light switch
Or you can’t hold your dark hair
No one dances with the same person three times
Strangle boat bank men make gorgeous dance partners
We ain’t gonna burn it down this time
Keep talking to me, keep talking to me
Don’t ever shut up
Track Name: Enough is Too Much
I can take it
You can’t handle me
I could wake the dead
It’s Night
It’s quiet
Awful and quiet
Awfully public
If you
Don’t stop
Slowing down
You won’t get
Believe it
Love it love it love it love it love it love it love it
It’s always enough, It’s always enough
You’re always talking to me
Overloaded with you
Track Name: You Drive Me Like a Sleepeater
Orange monochrome dancery
Shutting out from the fading purple living quarters
Kiss me here
Banging pots and pans
Carbohydrate fetishes
Secret candy addictions
From mommy to me
Making the reddest of sauces
Squeezing the thickest of crèmes
Staring into crimson red sky children
Blue baby nurseries
Sad notes on unknown messes
Clean it up dad; it’s up to you
We left it here for you to do
Oversized gala puppets
Black and white
Pinstriped, fleeing
Who are you?
Blue phantom circular insecuricors
Men of sizeable suits
Matching party hats
Drinks are a swirl
You drive me like a sleep eater
You drive me out of my bed, you drive me out of my head
You drive me like a sleep eater
So I can dream instead, so I can feed instead
I could be your diet
Sleeping waking walking, weeping wibbly-wobbly
Track Name: Barbecue Keeps You Young
I’ve got cranium can opener
For beers domestic and free
Screaming matchbooks
Screaming dreams
To a crowd like me
Flank in a flack jacket
I have sour memories
Of pork-laced cutlets
And bloodied beef
I love those colds rubbing up
Against me
I found the fountain of youth
And it runs on propane
Beef rings the bell
Kiss the cook
C’mon kiss the cook
Denouncing claims
Taking aim
Topping off
My propane
I identify where my
Manhood should be
I miss you every day
Clogged up
Snapped suspenders
Broken pants
Meat has been
Tender to me
So bright
Burning blight
Kiss the cook
C’mon kiss the cook
C’mon kid
Momma Santa
Track Name: Go Soccer!
Go go go go go go go
I am half the world
I am a kicking comet
High socks, gold colors
No hands, no hands
No hands
Back home I’m the picture
In the paper
In your pocket
Rubbing against your futbols
Thinking of jesus
Every game
How hard does the lord cheer?
Playing oversized Hackensack
Getting my bikini waxed
We’re always playing clean
No hands
Playing clean
No hands
Staying clean
No hands

Good sportsmanship
No hands
Checkered Referees
No Hands
Chest bumps
No Hands
Bros tapping toes
No hands
Down in Asia
They don’t have hands
Kicking fowls
Penalty shots
Un-sportsman-like conduct
Throwing up red flags
Throwing fits right back
Causing riots
Feeling big
Gaining national acclaim
Go go go go go go go
But now I play for the USA
And I’m broke