The DoneFors | Canadian Independent Band | Lush Life Below the Poverty Line | Award Winning Album | How to have sex with Canadians

HOW TO HAVE SEX WITH CANADIANS

How to have sex with CanadiansHow to have sex with Canadians (2009, Independent)
1. The Narrator – lyrics | buy on iTunes
2. In a Cornfield – lyrics | buy on iTunes
3. Mouth Full of Marbles – lyrics | buy on iTunes
4. Lemons From Argentina – lyrics | buy on iTunes
5. One by One – lyrics | buy on iTunes
6. In My Blood – lyrics | buy on iTunes
7. The King and Me – lyrics | buy on iTunes
8. Crazy Eight – lyrics | buy
9. Septembre en France – lyrics | buy on iTunes
10. Oh Scarlet – lyrics | buy on iTunes
11. Red Fish – lyrics | buy on iTunes
12. The Last Thing You Do – lyrics | buy on iTunes

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The Narrator

Music by P. MacDougall & J. Stoll
Words by J. Stoll
©2008 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008
Featuring guest vocalists Miss Emily Brown & Lana Royce

Pokin’ around an old bordello
To feast on a trivial pursuit
This is the place for a fool to flourish
When I’m down I am done with me

Am I a fly or I am vapor?
Could I be just a silhouette?
Where is the place the daughters go to relieve?
This is the place for somebody else
Not me

Here is the part I emulate a wallflower
No is the part I see you play at being coy
Three empty words could never do any harm
Be alarmed

We only bid to play out a dance
Devoid of any thrill
Killed of the romance
This is the way it goes we know it’s about
It’s about how you gonna get it

What is your name? It’s unimportant
‘Cause I won’t commit it any way
List of qualifications? Unnecessary
I am down I am down I am down

Chorus

We only know the distance
That our own nerve can travel
And who can be the judge of
Somebody else’s bag
Tonight I will dissect you
Like a woman that you once knew
Like the one you lost your heart to
Leave you running stag

Chorus

In a Cornfield

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2006 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Nov. 2007

Stumbling on the brink
Of too many beers
Brain full of hash
Not enough to numb my fear
And I am waiting on the edge of a cornfield
With the rest of the kids

My courage is so tiny
So much smaller than my heart
It’s darker than dark out
I don’t know if this is smart
But hold your breath as we count down from ten
(Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one)
And then with cautious abandon we all run in

I don’t know whose hand I’m holding
I have no clue where I’m going
All I know is that there is thunder in that sky
And my lips are dry

Kiss me deep until there are no kisses left
Let the sky open up and threaten death
I don’t even know your name
But take me with you just the same
I will go with you anywhere

Wind rushing through
Mocks the sounds of the sea
Eight feet above our heads
Corn stalks swaying in the breeze
And you are gorgeous in this light
Even if it’s in the night
I am smitten

Waiting in this pocket
Where there is no one around
Suddenly you are holding me
As the rain hurdles down
Laughing voices in the distance
Start to taper off
I am ensnared by a kiss to end all kisses
I am mercilessly caught

I don’t know whose hand I’m holding
I have no clue where I’m going
All I know is that there is thunder in that sky
And my lips are so dry

Chorus

Burn this memory in my brain
‘Cause I’ll never see you again
In this cornfield, in this rain

Chorus

Mouth Full of Marbles

Music by P. MacDougall & L. Smith
Words by P. MacDougall & J. Stoll
©2008 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy

You play the envelope I am the contraband
Rolling in to another slum
To find the perfect place to hide an ugly face
To burn beneath the beating of a sun

A shy mechanic hand is under sharp command
To disassemble every fallen stone
We’ll muscle out the slaughter sippin’ on holy water
‘Til we can’t remember why we landed here

Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
So hide the good in your guts and then
We’ll go once more ’round the dance floor

Moving in these parallels
Showing signs of struggling
A fox in a wishing well
We’ll sedate the children now
And bail them up like spools of hay
Set the dial to the opera
In the middle of the final scene
I’m an anxious guillotine
With mouth full of marbles
No more fight left in these bones
No boiling blood, no bending wills
Spent up and taken out

Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
Wheel me on out in a paper bag
On a ticker tape parade day
The sun has burned down every drop of blood
Every drop of blood and consolation
Speak delicately of foggy memory
Or this may turn out ugly
This marble-hearted, moon-sick mood
Has got me acting crazy
So hide the good in your guts and then
We’ll go once more ’round the dance floor

Lemons From Argentina

Music by P. MacDougall & J. Stoll
Words by J. Stoll
©2007 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

No no no this will never do
Sweaters gotta go
Too heavy from the rain
So damp and far too cold
For a southern part of Spain
Had you fallen right in toe
You’d’uh wished you’d stayed home
Safe and quiet

I’m a drunken lollipop
Lick my tattoo
I find you kind of pervie
That’s what I say to you
But you don’t speak a lick of English
So honey as you were
I’ll save my regrets for the morning

‘Cause I’m here to waste my brain cells
Getting dumb via conversation
Hail me a cab I’m sleeping
In a stranger’s bed tonight

Dear you,
I am here waiting it out
Looking for love in poetry
But I admit I’m bad hide and seeker
Sun burning my feet, aging my skin
You’ll still know me and love me again
When Argentina grows lemons
…lemons

One by One

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2006 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

Squatter you are ugly
Courting naïve
I’m not proud of me to lay down by your side

Stir me from sleep
Counting lame sheep
A cemetery of failed promises

And now you’re a homeless man
Basking in a frying pan
A murder of crows to take the blame
They all know your name
They call you kill

Squatter you are friendly
Don’t befriend me
I’m too needy, must be your only one

And now you’re an angry man
All of your lovers elude your plan
A murder of crows to call your kin
Each to witness your sin
They call you kill
Squatter you are deadly
How you’ve killed me
I’m too weary to bring myself back to life

And now you’re a lonely man
Shaving inches from your wingspan
The murder of crows you once called home
One by one they have flown
They have flown
They have flown
They call you kill

In My Blood

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2008 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

Call in a favour
Come and take a look
Better tell the preacher
Better bring his book
They say she’s been touched
And now she’s rolling in the mud
I’ve got a sinner in my blood

I’ve been lonely and baby you’re a lion
Eat my heart out, save me from the sighing
I ain’t budgin’ for no fool man
‘Cause no fool man can move

So put me in a room
And swallow down the key
Render me a wordless
Muted amputee
I’ll turn them padded walls
Into fire wood
‘Cause I’ve got a nomad in my blood

Chorus

So praise all o’ them husbands
Drunk on apathy
Hail to them women
Breathin’ ennui
I’ been savin’
A lap dance for the judge
‘Cause I got a razor in my blood

Chorus

You keep me tied up
To a hitchin’ post
I’ll take my clothes off
And offer up a toast
This one’s for the funny bones
Who make the bad look good
I got a poet in…

The King and Me

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2006 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Nov. 2007

The King came in, took a load off, and put his feet up
Opened the bags beneath his eyes
And the ocean poured out
I swear it did

I took his heavy face into my hands
Ran my fingernails through his beard
And then I bit his trembling lip

Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday Jesus
Happy Birthday Superman

Hold me through the failing weather
Deviant and bound together
Gimme hope and sugar, gimme buttons in a jar

I’ll bury my gluttonous nose into your hair
Draw in the sweat and trouble there
Your knotty locks and all that crazy history
Did you know that though today might look so bad
Worse than the foulest day you’ve had
I got a secret, bunny
And I know that everything is gonna be grand

Congratulations cowboy
Congratulations Mr. President

Hold me through the failing weather
Deviant and bound together
Gimme hope and sugar, gimme buttons in a jar
I of course will love you bunny
Squeeze you ’til you turn to honey
Gimme all your money, all your wishes, all your stars

I am a greedy son of a gun
You are all mine ’til I’m done
You’re so damn sexy when you’re sad
Makin’ love in a bath tub

I’ll lay you down now the world can take a walk
Leave us to our pillow talk
Cooing all our eggs to slumber

Goodnight sweet little bunny
Goodnight Holden Caulfield
Goodnight Captain Underpants

Hold me through the failing weather
Deviant and bound together
Gimme hope and sugar, gimme buttons in a jar
I of course will love you bunny
Squeeze you ’til you turn to honey
Gimme all your money, all your wishes, all your stars

Crazy Eight

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2006 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

Play me a pretty ditty, baby
I wore this dress for you
Can we kick off our shoes?
Stop dancing to drink some booze?
Before you walk me home at two would you place me a song?

You are a humble little rooster
When you tickle my ivories
Seems Thursdays were made for these
Stolen glances and bucklin’ knees
I’m beggin’ you baby, please
Won’t you play me a song?

You bandage up my blistered toes
My getaway sticks need no pantyhose
Your apartment is in my nose
‘Cause that’s the way what we got goes

The rain is breathing down our necks
According to the Farmer’s Almanac
But we got fifty-two to stack
You’re my funny, crazy eight

Some day we’ll bail on the city
Settle down some place clean
Where the sky s blue and clean
We’ll make our own hipster scene
You’ll be king, baby, I’ll be queen
When you play me a song

We can play at playing house
I’ll pretend to be the perfect spouse
It’s not like we got dreams to dowse
This is all just make-believe

We don’t have to speak about how we feel
We just hit play and watch the reel
Who needs true love when there’s cards to deal?
My sweet little, crazy eight

Next you make me miss a turn
Pick up two, I start to squirm
You’re lucky that you’re handsome

You put on your best gangster face
Drop a hint and drop an ace
Put on your cement shoes, baby
Doll face wants to kiss you

Septembre en France

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2007 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008
Featuring guest vocalist Miss Emily Brown

Je dors avec votre petit ami
Dans une gare au sud de Paris

Mon couer
Mon couer
Mon couer

Son bras en toure ma tete
Mais que pense e t’il

Mon couer
Mon couer
Mon couer

Septembre en France
Pour une danse oublier
Avec vin et bon chance
Bon chance

Ecrit moi des mots d’amour
La poesie
La poesie

Chorus

Oh Scarlet

Words and music by E. Smith ©2005
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Apr. 2008

Oh Scarlet
I wrote you a letter
I hope it gets better before it gets worse
Oh Scarlet
You hit the ground running
‘Cause you saw it coming
Had time to rehearse

And you spent the whole week
Trying to get on a pedestal
So they could have a clear view
Up your skirt
But when all of the gawking
Got bored of the shocking
You came back to me
To heal your hurt
Well put it in the corner
With all the mending, baby

I used to ride this
Now I don’t
‘Cause I always fall out
At the rocking of the boat

Oh Scarlet
I swallowed a bad seed
And now it’s in so deep
It’s built a hotel
Well I checked in
On my worst behavior
I broke all the windows
And they silently fell

I do moon over days
When things were so comfortable
I hope that we can get back there for more
But a layer of dust
Made a mess of our trust
And now the seams have pulled out
Fom how we’ve grown
Well put it in the corner
With all the mending, baby

Chorus

Red Fish

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2007 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Nov. 2007

A sweet vanilla cola with a hicky-shaped tattoo
You’re a homicidal maniac and I love you
Press your lips against my shoulder
Paint and paper sex appeal
I am naked to the right of you
You’re drunk behind the wheel

I had a red fish
I used to have a red fish
Such a beautiful little red fish
But I left her in the salty water

If we make it to the hill before the conversation dies
Will you leave me at the bottom with no money set aside
I will make it on my own I guess
But I’d much rather follow you
To the coast or to the rodeo
Those dreams could be mine too, you know

I had a red fish
I used to have a red fish
Such a beautiful little red fish
But I left her in the salty water
And that little red fish
Got caught up in a tidal wave
How I wish I rode a tidal wave
With my little red fish

So leave me
Leave me
Go on and leave me
Leave me
Go on and leave me
Leave me go on and leave me
Go on and on and on and on

I will muster up the guts to take myself to Paris, France
And wind up on my back before I’ve even smelled romance
I won’t ever think of you
No, I’ll be perfectly complete
‘Cept those nights I’m all alone
And sleeping in a cold backseat

Chorus

The Last Thing You Do

Words and music by J. Stoll
©2006 The DoneFors
Arrangement by The DoneFors
Recorded live off the floor at B. Lahaie’s studio Nov. 2007

How I wish I had a rocket ship to blast out into the atmosphere
With my face on every billboard in the galaxy
I’d be some universal celebrity
And maybe you would think about me

How I wish I were a juggernaut, to leave you visibly distraught
But I don’t make you double over I can’t make you cry
How many fires do I start before you bat an eye?
And maybe make you think about me

Wax my legs to pass the time
Sober friends and too much wine
You will be my valentine
If it’s the last thing you do

Carve your name across my chest
Do anything that you request
With all this love I must profess
I am such a loser

Wish I had a red canoe, oh I forgot of course I do
But floating without paddles in a dirty lake
Only offers dysentery and bellyache
But maybe I would forget about you

Sleep all day to lose my mind
Dream about you, how I long and pine
You will be my valentine
If it’s the last thing you do

Carve your name across my chest
Do anything that you request
With all this love I must profess
I am such a loser

I’ll be running naked full tilt down the street
Waiting for the cops to come and arrest me
And then at 6pm maybe you will see me on TV
I’ll be the one who’s all blurry in the private parts
And you’ll be swelling with love in your heart

I wish you saw the better side of all the love I would provide
Maybe some day if you heard me sing
Well you would toss your wedding ring
And maybe you would fall in love with me

Wax my legs to pass the time
Sober friends and too much wine
You will be my valentine
If it’s the last thing you do

Carve your name across my chest
Do anything that you request
With all this love I must profess
I am such a loser