Buffalo Nickels

by Kitchen Table, Illinois

supported by
Chad Bunendia
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Chad Bunendia Please keep making music it's so uplifting soft and soulful. Really fun great music love it with all my heart.
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($17 WORTH OF) BUFFALO NICKELS (G. McElwain, R. Stark) Some bands sound rich, like their records cost a million bucks. Some bands sound loud, like a fleet of tractor trailer trucks. And then some bands sound fancy, like Versace on a catamaran. We sound like seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels in a can. Some bands sound sad, like their only friend just up and died. Some bands sound mean, like they spent a little time inside. And then some bands sound angry, like maybe they could use a hug; We sound like seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels in a jug. Merle Haggard sounds like picking a fight with a beautiful sunset. Tom Waits sounds like sawing your tandem bike in two. George Jones sounds like staying out late playing skeeball, drunk, all by yourself. Willie Nelson sounds like a velvet painting of a kangaroo. Some bands sound hip, like they follow all the latest trends. Some bands sound cute, like they want their fans to all be friends. And then some bands sound noisy, like a heap of shrieks and rattles and knocks. We sound like seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels in a box, seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels in a jug, seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels in a can, like a jar that used to hold a pound of bread and butter pickels full of seventeen dollars worth of buffalo nickels.
HEART OF MY HEART (G. McElwain) Quit breaking the heart of my heart. Quit punching my heart in the face. Quit spreading his secrets around. Quit losing your key to his place. Quit bumming my heart's cigarettes. Quit stealing from his cookie jar. Quit dumping your trash in his yard. Quit spilling your beer in his car. CHORUS: Quit cheating on my heart, quit telling my heart lies. He's just a little guy. Why don't you pick on someone your own size? Quit raining on my heart's parade. Quit kicking my heart when he's down. Quit making fun of the way he talks. Quit bad-mouthing his home town. Quit stabbing my heart in the back. Quit stringing him up by his neck. Quit beating my heart black and blue. Quit sticking my heart with the check. CHORUS Quit asking my heart to meet you in bad parts of town late at night, and then standing him up. Quit flushing the toilet when you know that my heart is in the shower. Quit letting strangers in my heart's apartment building. Quit trying to run my heart's chain of fast food restaurants out of business. CHORUS Quit bringing my heart to his knees. Quit making my heart beg, oh please. Quit tearing my heart's faith apart. Quit breaking the heart of my heart.
Run Away 02:26
RUN AWAY (S. Gmetro) If you see a woman running 'round these parts with a smile on her face, she's got Satan in her heart. You run away. Oh, boy, run away. Listen up your ears, take a wiser word from a man not as fortunate as you to have heard the words, "Run away." Oh, boy, run away. CHORUS: Run away. Though she'll promise you the world, she'll promise four boys and a girl, you run away. Leave today. Boy, there ain't no time for packin', get your coach and whip a-crackin', you run away. Oh, boy, run away. SOLO CHORUS And if she tells you, "Honey, let's go to the church and make your mama shed a tear." Well, she don't know the first of it. Run away. Oh, boy, run away. CHORUS Oh, boy, run away. "Oh boy, don't run away." Oh, boy, run away.
Honey, Do 03:08
HONEY, DO (R. Stark) When we got hitched, I swore I'd do my best to care for you. Now I clean your house, and I cook your meals, I scrub your undies, too. I maintain my girlish figure, cultivate a healthy tan, and I've learned at least a million tips on to please your man. But I've never seen you cut the grass of take the garbage out, and as for romance, you ain't got a clue what that's about. I don't mean to suggest that you do not pull your own weight: You work real hard at stayin' drunk and chasin' jailbait. But this doormat thing is getting tired, so if you want to keep your wife, my friend, it's time to get inspired, and darlin': CHORUS You do the lovin' or I'll do the leavin'. I'll do the lyin', and you the believin', I'll do the drinkin' and the honkytonkin', you do the cryin' and the sweet-talkin'. If you want me 'round, you best believe that you do the lovin' or I'll do the leavin'. Well, you were such a charmer on the day that we first met, and I took to you like ducklings take to getting their feet wet. I'd highly recommend that you revisit your old skills unless you want to spend next month down at the Ranch-O-Mar Motel Because it'd be more than fair of me to leave, but I'll give you one chance to pitch in and roll up those handsome sleeves, and darlin': CHORUS Because this marriage lacks some reciprocity, and I've written out a list of things that you can do for me: Honey, do take a message if a friend should call for me. Honey, do keep the refrigerator full of MGD. Honey, do put the seat down. Yes, dear, every single time. Honey, try not to forget your ass is mine. Well, if you think these threats are empty, honey, you might be surprised when you wake up to find the skillet cold and the coffee pot bone dry. I'd happily pull up my stakes and bid you toodle-oo. If you want me to stick around, well, here's what you should do: CHORUS
OUTSIDE/UPSTAIRS (G. McElwain) I told you i was sorry. Things went downhill from there. You didn't want to hear it, I said I didn't care. I might have raised my voice, you might have cussed and broke a plate. I might have threatened to walk out, you might have said you couldn't wait. So I jumped up to hit the road and let you reap what you'd been sowing. I turned back for one last look and plumb forgot where I was going. Because... (Your cheeks!) Your cheeks are flushed with crimson. (Your eyes!) Your eyes are burning bright. (Your jaw!) Your jaw is set, (Your sleeves!) Your sleeves rolled up, (Your hands!) Hands on your hips (Your hips! Your hips!) You're quite a sight. CHORUS Darlin', when you get all riled up like this, nothing compares. Whenever you wanna take it outside, I wanna take it upstairs. (Your hair!) Your hair is whipping all around like venus riding on that big clam shell (Clam shell! Clam shell! Clam shell! Your chest!) Your chest! your chest is heaving and Your lips say that you're leaving, but your legs work their way up to me, your left hook rings my bell. CHORUS I told you I was sorry, and this time it was true. Just goes to show what one clean shot upside the head can do. Well, something had to give, i pulled you close and kissed you hard... You kissed me back, but I still spent the night out in the yard. CHORUS
Fools 04:00
FOOLS (R. Stark) I must have seen a dozen shades of red last night but in the morning light, they turned to gray. I guess it's just as well. I never could stay angry, anyway. I'm sure I filled a bathtub up with tears last night But when I woke, I found they'd all slipped down the drain. As they say, what's done is done No memory of your trespasses remains. Is is cliché of me to stay no matter what you do? Am I naive if I believe you when you say your love is true? Is it weak of me to turn the other cheek to you? If forgiveness is so foolish, well, I guess I'm the fool. I've done my share of misbehaving, I'v ebeen told that I can drive you crazy with the best. And there's a thousand things I do each day to put your patience to the test. Is it cliché of you to stay no matter what I do? Are you naive if you believe me when I say my love is true? Is it weak of you to turn the other cheek? Because you do. If forgiveness is so foolish, well, I guess you're the fool. If we were the kind of people who held grudges or kept score, our list would reach across the house and roll right out the door. SOLO If had called it quits the first time things got out of hand, we wouldn't have a marriage, we would have a one-night-stand. Is it cliché of us to stay no matter what we do? Are we naive if we believe each other when we say our love is true? Is it weak of us to turn the other cheek? Because we do. If forgiveness is so foolish, well, I guess we're the fools.
B-A-R F-I-G-H-T (N. Choate-Batchelder, G. McElwain, R. Stark) INTRO Sometimes life's a steamin' pile, and the best that you can do is manage not to strangle anyone today. So you climb up on that barstool, and you have a shot or two, or three, or four, or five, or six, and then you say: I don't know you. I don't like you. I don't like the way your face sits on your head. Face was strike one, place was strike two. Should'a' picked another honky tonk instead. If you think I need a reason more complex than these to rough you up, you're wrong. And that stink eye? That's strike three, son. Put your dukes up and feel free to sing along. CHORUS: B-A-R F-I-G-H-T bar fight! B-A-R F-I-G-H-T bar fight! Fists a flyin', teeth a-chippin', bottles breakin', tables flippin'. B-A-R F-I-G-H-T bar fight! B is for the beating that you will receive. A is for my anger, which I will take out on you R is for running away, which will not be an option. F is for my fists. I is for the injuries you will sustain. G is for the girls who will be watching. H is for the humiliation you will experience. T is for your tears. CHORUS There ain't no winners, there ain't no losers, just some sons of bitches blowing off some steam. We're all sinners, we're all boozers. You get your licks in and you take some for the team. Cops roll up and send us packin', stagger out all bleeding cuts and tender spots. Then those police kick us right back in. Gotta pony up for all them dollar shots. CHORUS
DON'T SPOIL YOUR DINNER (G. McElwain) Don't chew that Tootsie Roll. Don't crunch that candy cane. Don't chomp that Baby Ruth. Don't munch that Mary Jane. Don't sneak a little snack. Hold out 'til you get back. CHORUS: Don't spoil your dinner. Don't spoil your dinner. Don't spoil your dinner, 'cause I want you hungry when you get home. Don't grind that gummy bear. Don't lick that lollipop. Don't pinch that jelly bean. Don't suck that lemon drop. Don't take a single bite. You save that appetite. CHORUS I've seen the way you look at Little Debbie. I've heard the way you sigh for Sara Lee. I know some nights you dream 'bout Betty Crocker, but those supermarket floozies ain't got nothing on me. I mixed a marinade. I bought a big red steak. I poured a cabernet. I baked a birthday cake. I got the table laid. You know you got it made. CHORUS


These songs were recorded live* on West 67th Street in Cleveland, Ohio on December 14-15, 2012.

* We overdubbed the gang vocals on track 5, and the electric guitars on tracks 3 and 6.


released April 8, 2014

Gabe McElwain - acoustic and electric guitars, singing; drums (track 3)
Becky Stark - mandolin, acoustic guitar, singing

The Kitchen Cabinet Boys:
Sam Gmetro - drums; acoustic guitar and singing (track 3)
John McElwain - bass guitar, singing
Danny O'Brien - banjo, accordion, acoustic guitar, ukulele, singing
Michael Ubaldi - saxophone

Produced, Engineered, Mixed, and Mastered by:
Michael Ubaldi


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Kitchen Table, Illinois Chicago, Illinois

Some of Kitchen Table, Illinois' favorite United States of America include Illinois, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Wisconsin, California, Oregon, and Idaho.

Some of our favorite geographical features include freshwater islands, brownlands, steep grades, ravines, tunnels, and horizons.

Some of our favorite emotions include love, heartbreak, and anger.

We write songs about all of the above and more.
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