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lyrics

The friction is all fiction
Walk like you talk, but don't trip on your walking shoes
You might find your brittle little mind cracking up before its time's up, and you without the glue...

Getting over your hormonal hangover
Cos you can't stimulate yourself intellectually.
Take a number, getting dumber by the second, and your good looks alone won't get you on T.V.

And when you get here, try to think clear
Do what you want, but don't say what you're gonna do
And if you need help, get it somewhere else
Look at yourself, but don't let on what you see

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from Bad Choice Brigade, released July 8, 2005

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The Fig Mints (of Your Imagination) Utica, New York

The Fig Mints is some guy named Bobby Rogan. When not playing songs written by someone else, he prefers to write his own for what it’s worth, and has recorded nine albums and two EPs of (mostly) original material inspired by youthful indiscretion; severe anxiety attacks; heavy drinking; and of course, girls. Sprinkle a little self-loathing in there, and you get what you hear. ... more

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