This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
Hold your own jacket please
I'm not in the mood
Millions of trains under the ground
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Bored again
Watching the rats
Eat all your food
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Do you know how obvious you are?
You were born in New Hampshire but you say you're from the O.C.
Brooklyn's a death bed
For clones of the same kid
Stuck in the party
That was lame to begin with
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
You will all die
I'm not in the mood
Millions of trains under the ground
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Bored again
Watching the rats
Eat all your food
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
Do you know how obvious you are?
You were born in New Hampshire but you say you're from the O.C.
Brooklyn's a death bed
For clones of the same kid
Stuck in the party
That was lame to begin with
At least you'll be used to
The place you'll be soon
This city was the blueprint for hell
Passed out, sleeping at your party
Dream of leaving in the morning
You will all die in Williamsburg
Too hip to even clean your nose out
Your grave is pulling at your pants now
You will all die in Williamsburg
You will all die
Lyrics submitted by I N F E R N O
Williamsburg Lyrics as written by Peter James Decicco Nash Breen
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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thsi song is really good, cant wait to get the new album, SEPTEMBER 07!!