Get all 56 the garages releases available on Bandcamp and save 55%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of BLASETOBER, the garages (learn nothing), TA03.2: UNEARTHED, TA03.1: DECLASSIFIED, Reunion Tour, THE GARAGES: UNDERGROUND, grabdig, ILB Grand Slam '83, and 48 more.
1. |
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Blaseball rivals best beware
Our band has no second chair
Garages are equal and that’s rad
Because we’re all equally bad
We always lose
But not enough
We’ve gone for years
With no stat buffs
‘Cause we care too much to give up
But we suck too hard to win
We strike out as runners-up
And the cycle starts again
We work hard but we stay the same
Stuck between subpar and fine
Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle
And here there is no party time
Garages on the mound again
(Garages on the mound again)
Eight pitchers? Might as well be ten
(Might as well be ten more)
A lineup full of strained “what-ifs”
(Yeah, like what if we were good)
Star hitter? Plundered by the lift
(Just our luck, she’s stolen)
We have no stars
But we love them all
We’d love them more
If they hit the ball
‘Cause we care too much to give up
But we suck too hard to win
We strike out as runners-up
And the cycle starts again
We work hard but we stay the same
Stuck between subpar and fine
Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle
And here there is no party time
Our team just wants to rest a day
(Our team just wants to rest a day)
Before waves or fire sweep them away
(Burn out or get burned up)
We’re mediocre to the bone
(No bones about it, we suck)
But playoffs won’t leave us alone
(Three-time losing champions)
No special skills
Not blessed or cursed
And while you’re here
You won’t get better, but you might get worse
‘Cause we care too much to give up
But we suck too hard to win
We strike out as runners-up
And the cycle starts again
We work hard but we stay the same
Stuck between subpar and fine
Every day’s another battle when you’re batting for Seattle
And here there is no party time
Is it time yet, when’s our turn
Can we get lit before we burn?
Led to slaughter like we’re cattle
Our team knows there’s no parties in Seattle
‘Cause we care too much to give up
But we suck too hard to win
We strike out as runners-up
And the cycle starts again
But we’ve got heart and soul here
We don’t care what they all say
And our future might be unclear
But you can’t take our band away
Misfits have a place here
No matter what their stats
Even if they suck, we’ll still cheer
Every time they’re up to bat
So who cares about the standings
We’re here to kill gods and play ball
And maybe it’s not the worst thing
If Seattle can’t party at all
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2. |
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Six seasons gone with your roster unchanged
No-one prepares you and it feels so strange
Rats in a tire
But this wheel's on fire
And you know that nothing could be the same
Draw up your blueprints and make all your plans
Matters have been taken out of your hands
Don't be surprised
If you're unrecognised
By the people who claim they're your biggest fans
Too far gone
Got no choice
Move along
'Cause whatever you are
It all becomes scattered
Distorted and shattered
We'll tear you to pieces
How does it feel?
We were all fools when we clung to the mast
Our Ship of Theseus stuck in the past
Time to let go now
Although I don't know how
And I've got a feeling this wave won't pass
Time to go
Face the change
Wild Wings forever
'Cause whatever we are
We'll all find a new way
Pase lo que pase:
We say it; let's mean it!
How does it feel?
How does it feel...?
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3. |
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Born to play the game
And died doing the same
Then took a brief vacation
Atop The Hall of Flame
Among the best there ever were
The best that ever came
There is only one, for now
Who has that honored name
York Silk, rest in violence
Rest in violence, York Silk
If once you were an idol
Then I suppose you always will
When the news came down the people heard
Sad trombones and violins
And said "York Silk,
Rest in violence"
York's our dork, our glasses toasted
Ego boosted & honey roasted
With a gunblade bat called the vibe check
Silk is home run record holding
Along the best there ever were
The best that ever came
The only one who could gather folks
To sing this here refrain:
York Silk, rest in violence
Rest in violence, York Silk
If once you were an idol
Then I suppose you always will
When the news came down the people threw
Daffodils and violets
And said "York Silk,
Rest in violence"
When the news came down the people threw
Daffodils and violets
And said "York Silk,
Rest in violence"
And said "York Silk,
Rest in violence"
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4. |
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Seventeen, eight, one, sixteen, eighty, forty nine on home plate,
Twenty nine, thirty nine, minus five, then log of six and seven,
Five, seven, seven, eight, eight, nine, eight, eight, eight,
Thirteen million, two hundred five thousand and eleven
Three hundred and fifty nine point seven eight three two,
Avogadro’s number, just like our dreams, split in twain,
Twenty two over square root of i added to,
Fourteen standing sullenly in the soaking bloodrain
Twenty two divided by nine times square root of Philly pi,
Zero because the Thieves stole all my shoes,
Insult and injury of a shelling all divided by,
The sum of all my sorrows captured in my same old numeric number blues
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5. |
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Oh, Uncle Plasma bring hot chocolate to our base,
Our trench coats really could be thicker for this place,
We've got the team,
The whipped cream,
Our marshmallows are ace,
Uncle Plasma please bring chocolate to our base
Oh, Uncle Plasma won't you bring us a radio?
(Ours are all in use by the Intelligence Bureau)
To hear the games,
And cheer your name,
To follow our Uncle Pro,
Uncle Plasma please bring us a radio
Oh, Uncle Plasma won't you visit us on the moon?
Your ion smile could really warm up the frigid rooms,
Bring your bass,
To outer space,
Help us play a tune,
Uncle Plasma please visit us on the moon
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6. |
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Nibblin' on popcorn,
Watchin' the Beams score,
All of those batters covered in blood
I just start to sing
My bat missing every swing,
Check that score, it's twenty to one
Strikin' out again in Margaritoville
Searchin' for just a single walk
Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame
But I know, it's nobody's fault
Don't know the reason
Been losin' all season,
Even though I've been freshly transfused,
But I think this grass blood
Might be a real dud
How it helps me, I haven't a clue
Strikin' out again in Margaritoville
Searchin' for just a single walk
Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame
Now I think, hall, it could be my fault
I blew out my best stat
Swallowed a peanut
I see Beck, cruisin' far from home
At least I'm the bartender
And soon I will render
That floral concoction that helps us hang on
Strikin' out again in Margaritoville
Searchin' for just a single walk
Some people claim that there's those old gods to blame
But I know, it's my own damn fault
Yes, and some people claim
That there's those old gods to blame
And I know, it's my own damn fault
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7. |
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came out of party time
on a friday prime
guess it's our lucky day
cards drawn now lets play
we partied wavy hard and
now we're the mild card
this has never happened before
what else could we have asked for
so bad, we're good
things went exactly how they should
party time
on friday prime
so good, we were bad
the fridays' own olympiad
in season nine
party time
and when the cards were drawn
guess who got to go on
our first postseason games
it's never been the same
even by season fourteen
theyre still the best memories
we were having so much fun
almost made the tigers run
so bad, we're good
things went exactly how they should
party time
on friday prime
so good, we were bad
the fridays' own olympiad
in season nine
party time
we broke the records
got to have it both ways
we broke the records
came out of party time
on a friday prime
guess it's our lucky day
cards drawn now lets play
we partied wavy hard and
now we're the mild card
this has never happened before
what else could we have asked for
and when we were done
we sure had a lot of fun
hope the tigers do their best
now it's time for us to rest
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8. |
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Here I am a Machine
Like a fish up a tree
Who’d expect season 12
To be traded for Mindy
Now it’s just like the pods
And against all the odds
I got a bat in my feeder
And a will to fight gods
So here I go I shoot the bat
Directly at the ball
As I think about first base
I feel like I'm starting to stall
The opposition is firm
But then I hear from the crowd:
"Oh, Worm?"
I know my new team believes in me
I'll try my best to be their batting machine
And strangely it turns out to be
I'm really not half bad
Now I'm in the dugout
Composting self doubt
And I'm learning to sign
So Vess isn't left out
I turn on everyday
Feeling ready to play
And I'm learning the difference
between silt and clay
So here I go I shoot the bat
Directly at the ball
And I try to writhe towards first base
But it doesn't work at all
The loam beneath me turn firm
And I hear them shout: "Oh, Worm?"
I know my new team believes in me
I'll try my best to be their batting machine
And as it strangely turns out to be
I'm really not half bad
Now I find I'm swept away
I wait elsewhere for 20 days
The noise I make is now in my name
And somehow an acne breakout on my front face plate
I know my new team believes in me
I'll try my best to be their batting machine
And as it strangely turns out to be
I'm really not half bad
I know my new team believes in me
I'll try my best to be their batting machine
And as it strangely turns out to be
I'm really not half bad
Oh, Worm!
Back up vocals
There’s Muddy rock and Syenite
There’s shaly shale and Laterite
There’s loamy sand and sandy loam
We call each of these things our home
There's clay and silt and quartzolite
And Greisen, sand and diorite
There’s ultra gravel and tephrite
And spectrum sand and monzonite
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9. |
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Come listen to the tale of some-worm smaller than my thumb
A legend I'll regale about our hero, Lenny Crumb
Oh Lenny was a baker from way down in the loam
With just an oven and some dirt, he was happy in his home
'Til one day he breached the surface, and gazed up at the sky, oh
And thought "my oh my," it's time to move to Ohio
With a trusty cupcake on his back, Lenny rolled up his lack of sleeves
And fashioned him a plane out of nearby twigs and leaves
And though his flight designs were not even out of beta
He crash landed in a field outside of Wapakoneta
Lenny looked around and saw the greatest sight he'd ever seen
Bats a-swinging, birds a-swarming around the Wapak Blaseball team
He looked just in time to see something blocking out the sun
Quickly caught his first flyout and stopped a game-winning home run (…game-winning home run!)
With Wapak's new star hitter, they started building steam
Crumb just couldn't quit, a true credit to the team
With each home-run he hit, Lenny's fame would grow
Though he stayed humble, all his flans shout "Look at that worm go!" (Look at that snail go! What?)
One morning in the dugout, came an unexpected guest
"Hey Lenny, have some time? The name's Hidalgo Internet.
I'm starting a new league. I like your wriggle and your squirm."
And that's how Lenny Crumb became the first Ohio Worm! (…how Lenny Crumb became the first Ohio Worm. Back to you…)
For nine seasons of the ILB the Worms racked up the scores
But Crumb, deep down, he feared the founder wanted something more
After three champion titles Lenny couldn't take the tension
So those Ohio Worms began planning an ascension
Sure enough the time was coming: the twelfth season's final day
Internet revealed they had a fearsome debt to pay
With each passing win their patron's eldritch hunger grew
They said "Lenny, come and join the feast we'll start by eating you"
(today's forecast calls for dark omnipotent forces feeding off the spirit of Bla-OH GOD NO)
To avoid being Hidalgo's twisted sacrificial lamb
Lenny called a huddle, and they hatched their daring plan
They gathered up their peers and equals, the Georgias and the Mechs,
And left a warning and a blessing in a Forbidden sacred text
Any three time champs should know no fear if Blaseball should return
For they'd ascend, and so escape a fate fit for no-worm
And if things were worse than Lenny feared, and didn't go as planned
The Big Leagues would come back to Earth and flood the whole darn land
And that's exactly what they did. After they had met the Crabs,
They knew the League would not be safe in the Boss's cold dark hands
And though the gravity's different, they need time to readjust
That Coin don't know what's coming, 'cause the Worms do what they must
Yeah the Worms do what they must
Dirt to dirt, loam to loam, and dust to dust
(All writhe!)
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10. |
Ohio Worms - The Museum
04:14
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the garages Seattle, Washington
if you want an album for free, for any reason, email thegarages@fourth-strike.com
we are the
garages, an anarcho-syndicalist blaseball band from the fictional location of seattle. we make songs about being gay, the apocalypse, and fighting the gods.
... more
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