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Glass House

from Self​-​Titled EP by The Murder

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about

Recounting some of the adventures we had while living at The Glass House, a punk house on Mozart St in Jamaica Plain MA. Everything in this song is true.

lyrics

No one in the glass house
ever had a fucking job
Everything we didn’t burn
we had to tear apart
It almost killed me trying to
escape that fucking place
I swear to Christ I don't regret
a single fucking day

Selling drugs to make the rent,
I collected cans
Fucking neighbors called the cops
while we were playing with the band
It was a party every night and
it was done with style
Holes in the walls, axe through the door,
let’s torch the whole shitpile

The glass house was a place
we could call our own
This is the glass house,
nowhere else to call our home

Fighting off the junkies that were
breaking down the door
Beer, there must have been 10 kegs
that spilled onto the floor
When we left we threw a table
through the fucking wall
So many fights and drunken nights
that I just can’t recall

credits

from Self​-​Titled EP, released June 3, 2008
Music & Lyrics By: Roach McKrackin

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The Murder Boston

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