Get Up Get Out Get Gone

from by Paul Chesne Band

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This chick calls me late night. Booty call. She comes over. We have some fun. A lot of fun. Her brain's a pretty damn sharp little number too. I mean we're reading poetry and drinking wine. I was reading some Robert Lowell aloud. Memories of West Street and Lepke. I'm thinking this ain't half bad. She ends up sleeping over. Leaves early morning. I kinda just hid under the pillows trying to sleep in. Awake but pretending not to hear the sound. And she's very quietly slinking out. I'm like "Damn girl, no goodbye." Wake up a bit later and reflect on the triumphantly glorious evening. Then I get my bearings. I look around a bit. I realize she came over. We drank all my booze. Fine. Good. Cool. She smoked all my weed. Fine. Cool with that too. (I hardly ever smoke the ganja but I just keep it around for when the people come over and want to indulge. And also homies seem to just give it to me all time. And same for pills. I've always got pills. I'll show up at a show and some fan or friend will slip pills in my pocket. I'll take one every once in a hoot and/or give 'em away.) Anydoodles, long story short -- she rifled through my drawers & stole my entire stash of pills. I feel like, "Hey that's not that cool. Kinda hurts my feelings really." Had she asked, I woulda given her whatever she wanted. But she stole. That's the quandary. The point of contention. Rationalize it. So I'm like well she's a drug addict. I accept the fact that I showed her where the stockpile was. She couldn't resist. I have since forgiven her. Like the next day. But the one thing that really put me at an angle was -- I get in the shower the next day. And I'm due for a shave. Want to clean the night off my face. I'm in the shower. I'm looking around. I realize. There ain't no shaving cream. She took that too. The goddamn shaving cream. That's some kinda spooky ass Winona Ryder klepto shit. She's a rich chick. I understand the drug addict part. But damn did she really need to take the cream man. The shaving cream man. That is the true story of what inspired this silly little number that became an instantaneous international superhit platinum record.


Get up get out get gone

Let’s talk about what my problems are
exactly what the truth is

You come to my house and you wanna a drink
I could just as easily go to sleep

It’s not the drink, the drugs, or the careless love
It's multiple choice it’s all of the above

It could have just have easily been A or C
But the way things are goin’ it can only B D

Get up
Get out
Get gone
Lil baby can’t you see

She could walk out with my shaving cream
Clean me out of my pills

I can’t imagine what else of my valuables
She would have the guts just to steal

I checked my guitars and my piggy bank
She left them but that girl sure could drink

She drank my booze and she smoked my dank
She took my pills, thanks but no thanks

Oh me o my o
You know just exactly what to do
Little baby can’t you see
That I’m a reaction
To all this predictable made up news
I’ve been skeptical from square one of your accent
But who am I to question you


from Get Up Get Out Get Gone EP, released October 13, 2009




Paul Chesne Venezia

Why we play music:

For the love of it. Because we’re hungry. To make people happy and dance. To make all the pretty girls cry. Because we’re high. Because we’re low. Because we’re drunk or ascetic. Because we can’t in good conscience do anything else. ... more

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