The Presidents of the United States of America

We're not gonna make it
Oh, no!
We're not gonna make it

Cause there's a million better bands
with a million better songs
Singers who can drum
Singers who can sing

Deep in my heart,
I do believe
We're not gonna make it
Oh, no!
We're not gonna make it

Cause we don't have the talent
And we don't have the time
We don't have the patience
And we don't know how to rhyme

No, no, no
We're not gonna make it!

"We Are Not Going to Make It"

Movin' to the country,
gonna eat a lot of peaches
Movin' to the country,
Gonna eat me a lot of peaches
Movin' to the country,
gonna eat a lot of peaches
Movin' to the country,
gonna eat a lot of peaches

Peaches come from a can,
they were put there by a man
In a factory downtown
If I had my little way,
I'd eat peaches every day
Sun-soakin' bulges in the shade

Take a little naps where the roots all twist
Squished a rotten peach in my fist
And dreamed about you, woman,
I poked my finger down inside
Make a little room for it to hide
Nature's candy in my hand or can or a pie

Millions of peaches, peaches for me
Millions of peaches, peaches for free

Look out!

"Peaches"

Lump sat alone in a boggy marsh,
totally emotionless except for her heart
Mud flowed up into lump's pajamas
she totally confused all the passing pihranas

She's lump, she's lump
She's in my head
She's lump, she's lump, she's lump
She might be dead

Lump lingered last in line for brains
and the one she got was sorta rotten and insane
Small things so sad that birds could land
Is lump fast asleep or rockin' out with the band?

She's lump, she's lump
She's in my head
She's lump, she's lump, she's lump
She might be dead

Lump was limp and lonely and needed a shove
Lump slipped on a kiss and tumbled into love
She spent her twenties between the sheets
Life limped along at sub-sonic speeds

She's lump, she's lump
She's in my head
She's lump, she's lump, she's lump
She might be dead

Is this lump outta my head?
I think so
Is this lump outta my head?
I think so
Is this lump outta my head?
I think so
Is this lump outta my head?

"Lump"

[Há quantos anos é que já não ouvia esta maravilhosa e divertida banda? É impossível não sorrir com o duplo sentido e a ironia em que as letras destes PUSA estão mergulhadas! Que grande "viagem temporal" fiz no momento que visitei o Covil do Carlos e dei de caras com este post pendurado na parede. Para mim este álbum vai ser sempre a "porta" para me lembrar de umas maravilhosas férias de Verão passadas na Figueira da Foz... Um abraço especial ao Lito, o companheiro de quarto dessas férias (dito assim até parece outra coisa... lol). Impressionante como uma música, uma imagem ou um cheiro pode trazer-nos de volta memórias que pensavamos perdidas, no tempo, para todo o sempre...]