Dirty city,
Worm town,
Pretty things,
Underground,
Diamond rings,
Silk gowns,
Old money,
Deep down,
Loose women,
Quiet men,
All come to rest,
Here in my pen.
Venture down,
Dig them up,
Take their treasure,
Fill my cup.
Flesh of the poor,
Boxed up and stored,
Crackin’ coffin lids,
Like I’m knockin’ on doors.
Pickin’ through the pieces in a satin bed,
A million treasures hidden in the pockets of the dead!
Dirty city,
Poverty,
People living,
In the streets,
Under bridges,
In the ditches,
Soon they’ll come to visit me.
Cold skin,
Dead eyes,
Don’t stop me reaching,
What they hide,
Could be a murder,
Or suicide,
There ain’t no tellin’
Just what I’ll find.
Flesh of the poor,
Boxed up and stored,
Crackin’ coffin lids,
Like I’m knockin’ on doors.
Pickin’ through the pieces in a satin bed,
A million treasures hidden in the pockets of the dead!
Hailing from Worcester MA; stitched together from fragments of sloppy bayou blues, sleazy rockabilly,fuzzed-out garage, and
the creeping, half-dead remnants of nightmares; the musical talents of Ryan Hatt and Nik McCarter are tied to a slab and thrust into the heart of an electrical storm to breath again as The Jitters!...more
The four songs on this brief EP put a heavy emphasis on big, bright vocal melodies and punk rock nerviness—perfect for the warming weather. Bandcamp New & Notable May 7, 2023