War On Tourism EP

by Gnar World Order

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  • War On Tourism EP
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about

Gnar World Order is making waves with their debut release, as the Galveston Island thrashers rally up the troops in their fight against Shoobie-kind! Armed with music gear, Black-cats, steel chairs, pocket sand and beach rocks they'll be making the first move to bring about the War on Tourism.

credits

released November 11, 2012

Drums - Vic "Thor" Resendiz
Bass - D.J. Ellis
Vocals - Pete Hesher
Guitar - Double Danger Dave

Recorded by Andrew Schmidt of Giant Battle Monster.

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all rights reserved

about

Gnar World Order Galveston, Texas

We're from Galveston, Texas. Here to shred and bust some heads.

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Contact Gnar World Order

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Track Name: War On Tourism
Give me commerce or give me death
For all of my problems just write me a check
You know you’re rich and you’ll only get richer
Cover the beach with your trash and liter

You’ll be gone and I’ll be stranded
Knee-deep in fast food wrappers
Damn it all to hell with these tourist fucks
Your beachside attractions; they all fucking suck

You come to our town Congest our traffic
Drinking and driving and causing havoc
Out of towners that drive to slow
Don’t even know which way to go

I’m sick and tired of waiting in line
Behind some old tourist at a traffic light
The mindless drones that crowd the t-shirt shops
Wear shoes at the beach with fucking sock
Track Name: I Hate Punk
The noise is too loud
I can’t stand the awful sound
Can’t understand a fucking word they’re saying
With drum and bass so crude
To call it music would be lude
It sounds like martian shit to me that they’re playing

The kids are all weird
The way they dress you’d think they’re queer
I know that it’s their style but I just don’t get it
And what’s with their hair?
Bleached and spiked to the air
The fuckers look like they come from another planet

I hate punk!
It fucking sucks
I hate Punk!
A bunch of whiney cunts

How can you call that
Jumping flailing fists a dance?
I wish you fucking fags would just go jump off a building
So you can take your leather
Studs and boots, skateboards, whatever
Pack it all away and send that shit to the moon

So you can take your crust
Your burnout hippie shit’s a bust
You vagrant stinky squatters aren’t worth a fuck
You all act like savages
You don’t take baths. You smell like cabbage
God! You filthy brats just make me want to sick up
Track Name: Push N' Roll
Rollin like thunder
fast as lightning strikes
skating for speed
a thrasher’s way of life
pushin with power
like savages we ride
mad style no fear
shred until we die

skate fast
thrash hard
carving concrete melting bones
skate fast
thrash hard
pump for speed. push n' roll!

Reckless Chaotic
we storm the streets
pissed and rowdy
most raddest bunch you'll meet
like devils we ride
down the steepest grade
up for a challenge
down for a race

Skating beer in hand
we're terror on wheels
drunk. high. we destroy
the apshalt and hills
rockers on rockets
we shred and do it well
burn the city to the ground
and skate on down to hell
Track Name: Chivalry Is Dead
I don’t want to take you out on a date
I just want you to sit on my face
I don’t want to do anything you ask me to
I just want to get deep inside you

I ain’t no gentleman
Ain’t gonna hold your hand
Oh baby don’t be sore
Ain’t playing games just out to score

I ain’t gonna make you dinner
But getting up in them guts would killer
At risk of sounding crass, I’d eat anything out your ass girl
I’d be the one to tear that shit up fast, cause..

I’m not gonna waste my time
On a bitch who ain’t down for a mustache ride
So you think I’m scum because I want to make you cum
Don’t be a drag girl. Let’s have some fun
Track Name: Cashing In (time's up)
Bust through the door with shotguns pointing through
locked and loaded the barrel stares right at you
I've come to pump your body full of rounds
I've come to put your punk ass in the ground
Locked on! Now I've got you in my sights
no chance to run when you are paralyzed in fright
and now your time has come
Time to collect on a job well done

Hunter for hire
Mercenary on a mission
Blow you to bits for a buck
Dead is what he's dishing

I make my living through dealing death
Money earned by taking your very last breath
Hit's put out so it's so I go after the purse
I'm just a stone cold killer with no remorse
Steady watching as I creep by in the dark
With calculated skill i set after my mark
You don't even get a chance to feel the chill
Of my knife's through your neck. TARGET KILLED

I've got no motives whatsoever
I just have nothing to lose
I'm just a man with munitions
and the skills to boot
You got the cash then you got a kill
Gimme a name and I'll bring their head
Killing is my business so gimme a call
whenever you need someone dead