Don't Tell Anyone EP (2013)

by Caskitt

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"Life On Ridgeview Dr." music video -> www.youtube.com/watch?v=siLfTuSvIYk

"Agoraphobic" music video -> youtu.be/hYi7DcXC-5w

credits

released October 1, 2013

Matt Caskitt (Drums, Vox)
Steffen Long (Guitar, Vox)
Ricky Schmidt (Bass, Vox)

Recorded, Mixed & Mastered in June & July 2013 @ Earthbound Recordings with Chris Hopkins

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Caskitt San Diego, California

Caskitt is a unique three-piece punk rock band from San Diego, CA. Operating like a “hook-and-ladder” firetruck, this band is driven from the back by drummer and lead vocalist Matt Caskitt, and steered from the front by Steffen Long on guitar and Jesse Hernandez on bass; both providing harmonies and taking over vocal duties when needed. They are part of the La Escalera Records Family :) ... more

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Track Name: Agoraphobic
I’ve become agoraphobic. Confined to the cells I’ve built inside my head. I’m never going on the outside ever again. The sun is shining through the curtains. Oh, it’s a beautiful day outside I’m sure. But I’m just gonna have to trust you, and take you at your word. Because it’s comfortable in here. Just me and debilitating fear. My self-security blanket warms. As I know the end is near.

So please don’t take my pain away. It’s all I got to keep me warm and safe. Armageddon’s approaching, it’s fair to say. So, board up the windows and lock the doors, I’m not going outside anymore. Unless I’m dragged kicking and screaming, I’m staying indoors.

There’s a clock upon the nightstand. Programmed to notify me of another day. The weather really doesn’t matter when it’s always cold and gray. I hit the snooze while I’m sleeping. Un-rested, adjust myself accordingly. Pace back and forth three times rinse, repeat, scrub until it’s clean. But it’s comfortable in here. Just me and debilitating fear. By self-help medicating my future’s looking fucking clear.

I’ve lost my mind this time it’s somewhere I swear. I’ve lost my mind this time, I can’t find it anywhere. So please don’t take my pain away.
Track Name: Ponzistarter.com
Motorcycle methamphetamine shit parade. I’m calling all out war on the golden gate. So sing from the heart, or sing from the soul, but I’m never going back to San Francisco.
I wanna know how much money was spent on lavish hotels built on cheap cement. Your calls go unanswered, by those held chains in self contempt. I see right through your lies, fancy wigs, polka-dot bowties. Your pleading’s enamored, in thrift store bought mom and pop disguise.
And it’s all I can do to keep quiet, sing from the top of my lungs. Wrap the bullshit up in gold so you can buy it. How much longer can I hold my tongue?
I know where the donations went, your deep pockets full of addiction. A few misplaced receipts, ponzi-scheme, truthful contradiction. I see right through your rouse, fake mustaches and cheap tattoos. You always aim to please but those who donate are sure to lose.
And it’s all I can do to keep quiet, sing from the top of my lungs. Wrap the bullshit up in gold so you can buy it. So hand over your hard earned money, fund my dream as you sacrifice yours. And like bees who’ve been robbed of their honey, and the keeper sets fire to the door.
Help me, help me, I’m acting up again. Bipolar fueled, I am the exception. I’m impervious to society’s rules for I eat immaculate conceptions. Megalomaniac, hitler’s son, I find the latter hard to swallow. But if I play my cards right, I can fool you all to follow. Help me, help me, help me, help me. Help me!
Track Name: Florence Nightingale
Just hide the truth son. I won’t be mad. Go on, go on and prosper. I’ve paved the path for you. Can’t you see? Go on, it’s nothing but diamonds and gold.
But I get it. You’re the prodigal son. The golden spoon. The fortunate one. And don’t forget it. You’re the rising sun. The harvest moon. Fooling everyone.
Vicariously, I live through you. No one, no one will ever know that I’m the dollars behind the boy writing every check. No one, no one will read my name in the liner notes.
My efforts have been trivialized like a story tale. A la Florence Nightingale. And you’re about to be found out.
Track Name: Ralphie Parker Went To War
My mind is a mess and this cane creaks and cracks with every step. I’m in my formal dress; my voice squeaks and stutters as I try to forget the war crimes my fellow soldiers committed in front of me. I can’t shake the remembrance of this American tragedy.
To you I’m just a headline, a link to a story you didn’t want to see. Your views on foreign relations: condemning the choices by those who fell next to me. Pillow talk, water-cooler banter; it’s all just a topic that’ll disappear. But thanks for all the yellow ribbons, tied to the fence dividing hope and fear.
Oh, I never thought I’d make it home. Oh, so what do I do now? Acclimate me! Direction’s hard to follow. Without a gun at my side I’ve never felt so goddamn hollow. Rerelease me! Into the freedom I was fighting for. My name’s little Ralphie Parker, I grew up and I went to war.
Lead, follow, or get out of the way.
Acclimate me! Direction’s hard to follow. Without a gun at my side I’ve never felt so fucking hollow. Rerelease me! Into the freedom I was fighting for. My name’s little Ralphie Parker, you probably don’t recognize me anymore.
Track Name: June Gloom
Palm trees, you used to sway in my childhood vacation dreams. But now you bend and break, not sure how much more I can take, click my heels to take me home. Photographs, captured moments of better times I had. But as the photo collects dust, and the frame begins to rust, I’m ready to sell off all I own.
My face is buried deep in this carpet draping concrete. I wanna be stitched into this floor. My heart’s racing to an unmarked finish line. Trembling hands, idling mind. Just turn out the lights before you close the door.
Coastline, mis-circumnavigating everything all of the time. Devoid of all emotion, drowning in this fucking ocean, just click my heels to take me home. So sing a tune, this sunshine’s stifled behind these clouds of gloom. And as I stumble to my feet, I can feel the summer heat; I’m ready to sell off all I own.
Blank face staring back at me, I ask myself the question. Well just what will become of my record collection?
And my face is buried deep in this carpet draping concrete. I wanna be stitched into this floor.
Track Name: Life On Ridgeview Dr.
Born and raised in this small ghost town. I’ll probably live and die here. Be buried in the ground. I’ll take my father’s place at the watering hole. These lines will age my face, oh save me from this cold. We’re going out tonight he says.
To all the girls looking for love on 2nd street: oh I can hear your heartbeat coming in on my radio. And all the boys cruising down on the boulevard, revving up your muscle cars, ‘cause there’s nowhere else to go.
California dreamin’ out my kitchen window. I pray for vacation to take me out of this snow. ‘Cause I don’t wanna live life like the other girls vacuuming in a string of pearls. I wanna leave this town, next bus in, I’m out. No matter what the consequence.
To all the girls looking for love on 2nd street: oh I can hear your heartbeat coming in on my radio. And all the boys cruising down on the boulevard, you know they hold the keys to your heart ‘cause there’s nowhere else to go.