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Evan Brubaker Philharmonicmp3.com/evanb

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    "Kind Of Face"genre: Alternative General
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    Upbeat Jam...featuring a rap about Kenny Rogers and a fuzz bass solo.
    CD: Half Moon   Label: sweet receiver/Cake Records
    Credits: ©1999 Evan Brubaker/nine foot tub (BMI)

    Story Behind the Song
    I wrote this song because I was a complete jerk to a girlfriend of mine and there was no excuse for it. I just couldn't say what needed to be said. Sound familiar? My face was giving everything away but I couldn't use the words.

    I wrote it in the studio in Toronto. I had a basic idea for the song and we recorded it. Then I wrote the words that night and sang it the next day. Pretty crazy. I am pretty proud of the rap, especially since I quote George Michael's "Careless Whisper" in it.

    Lyrics
    I've got the kind of face that hurts
    With every stupid stubbing toe
    Every broken bottle stare
    And every lucky nervous smile
    You see the answer in my mouth
    Or in the crinkle of my nose
    Well, the words don't come out
    but you can already tell

    I've got a bone to pick with you
    It's about the size of your head
    You can make me roll my eyes
    but I will not play dead
    And there's a rattle 'tween my ears
    But I don't hear a thing
    Oh, you know there's no excuse for me

    I've got the kind of face that hurts
    With every sloppy nosey blow
    Every twisting of my hair
    And every ninety minute mile
    You see the answer in my hands
    As I rock to and fro
    Oh, the words don't come out
    but you can already tell

    That I've shaded the truth
    And left you out on the porch
    And turned all the lights off
    When you knocked on the door
    Now you're moving from house to house
    With a pad and a pen
    Oh, I know you're learning something

    But you already know
    You know there's no excuse for me

    I never told you abotu my riverboat fantasy
    Where I play Kenny Rogers and you play Dolly
    Gambling anything the hosue wins everything
    I'm passed out on the floor while you're packing
    I should've know better than to cheat a friend and waste this chance that I've been given
    I never know when to hold 'em, fold 'em,
    Or run away like a fool

    You already know
    You know there's no excuse for me

    I've got the kind of face that hurts

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