Always loved fire,
Daddy the matchstick, Mommy?
she was the pyre.

N: "No...
wait,
is a bank account,
the baggy underneath my mattress?
'cause that has an old sandwich in it."

M: "No,
a bank account is
where you put your money in a thing,
and people watch the thing,
and you gain interest at a really, really,
really slow rate."

N: "So what you're saying,
is a bank is a
*******.
I put my money in her,
and at a really, really,
really slow rate
I get interested in her
and people watch her,
with my money.

A bank is a *******.
I think I get it.

Yes,
I have one of those."

The new Genre Tourist Punk
is sailing the nation.
Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see
up and thrifting bands like
Lobster trap,
Lighthouse tour and
Dogs welcome.

Founded in a Starbucks
by Toni and Dash,
two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in
the lighthouse painting business,
The Band: Lobster Trap
gave birth to a whole new genre.
TOURIST PUNK
Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche.
Something unspeakably mundane.

With smash hits like
"This traffic is *******"
And "My name still isn't Joe".
Lobster Trap is flying
up the American top 40
faster than you can say socks and sandals

Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour.
Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.

old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene.
until it hit them that they could now throw punches
at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.

"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite
Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.

Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo",
and "Local Diner"

So listeners.
if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs;
Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs.
Do yourself a favor.
road trip into your local bullmoose
sporting your states name on your chest.
And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album
of TOURIST PUNK.

I met a Carnival Arsonist
burlap sack around her
fiery heart, force taught
to start fires
bright, to distract her from stars.

Always sat in her ashes
Marlboro hacked up her passion
until the ferris wheel called her
to get a glimpse at her burns.

Each night it's siren syringes
hallucinations injected noises
bending over foreclosure
turning up folders
found an old phone her
Owner planted to spy.

He popped her first red balloon
kept the dart pressed in her side.

Manic Panic won't let her dye.
Her highlights don't hide her lies.
"I'm Fine" always "I'm Fine".

Built thick walls of timber
to guard to try Tinder.
Tender to two tired hearts
begged strangers to beat her

"Play a game, win a prize
Play a game, win a prize"

Poured gasoline on the
carnival, watched it
burn from inside.

Working front register at Starbucks
you ask a little boy in green
if he likes Minecraft
What the coolest thing
he ever built was
then watch
As his family
and the whole line behind them
gasp, fall silent
stare at you
with standing ovation eyes
as he lights right up
to tell you all about it

I wake up on a yoga mat
In what is now just My
empty room.

All the clutter That made this house
lived in.
Tucked
in the three old
Sock and underwear drawers
That used to be:
Hers.

The family photographs
half the nerdy posters
books,
Magic the Gathering cards,
Burgled by some addict named time.

I look out at what I now call
"The guest bedroom".
The only evidence of her
An empty dresser
covered in Princess stickers.

At work
Customers ask:
How are you doing?
"I'm awesome! how are you?"
How are you doing?
"I'm wonderful! what brings you to freeport?"
How are you doing?
"I'm fantastic, peak or dark roast?"

How's your daughter?
"Step-daughter."
That's all I'm allowed to tell you
My boss said I'm scaring off customers By
over-sharing
So he wrote me a script.

I would love to tell you
I don't know how she's doing
And it's killing me.

Her mother left me,
We were both fifteen at the time so
My mother, Rightfully cautious
of her overly passionate puppylove eyed son
Didn't let me adopt

So I don't get to see her anymore.

Her mother was a fire who never drank enough rain
And that little girl
Will burn without my clouds.

I am playground math lessons
In space of mindless television
I am baking a cake together Instead of
"You won't eat till you listen".
I am the voice behind every barbie doll
And dinosuar that ever fell in love.

when you ask me how she's doing
All I can think about is how
I earned that
first "I love
you,
dada."

How I made her laugh
more times than her Mother made her
Cry.
How I tucked her in at night
and she made me read her
"Oh The Places You'll Go",
Over
and Over
and Over.
Screaming
when I said she'd go
On through the hakken kraks howl,
and Giggling
when I said she'd move
Mountains.
I raised her for three years.

But because I walked in on my daughter
Locked in "The guest bedroom"
banging on the Oak door
Screaming "DA DAAAA!"
While her mother forgets about us
On the other side of a keyhole.

I have to waste at this register
Handing you a precious cup of coffee
every precious cup of coffee
another abuse I can't protect her from.

"How is your daughter?"
"Step Daugher"
"How are you doing?"
"I'm awesome."
"How is your daugher?"
"Step daughter."
"how are you doing? Step daughter"
"Tell me how you're doing, Step Daughter."
"Please, Tell me you're safe."
"Tell me you're safe."
"Tell me you're safe."

"if your personality was a beverage,
what beverage would it be?"

She said: "I think I'd be Coffee"

"No,
You can't be coffee."

You're too sweet
Cheap, With two shots of vanilla

COFFEE is bold, smokey,
Burns your throat.

I had coffee once,
Brandy

Woke up to her every morning,
For years I got drunk off of her
When I didn't drink enough water
She made me sick.
but I never drank water
Went down the hall
to a sippy cup full of milk.

Even she,
was not just milk.
She was strawberry milk.
My little Coffee milk.

You are not Coffee.
You are water.

But soak up all my grounds
***** yourself on the dead burnt cherries
I've left for you.

Maybe
you can be some quick
instant version.