BeersideScoundrels' Podcast

Episode 6: Back in Beer

BeersideScoundrels — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 14:54:01 +0000

We're back! In this podcast, we talk about hpmor.com, songs we have never released, our love of Muskogee, and we sing a lullaby for a fan. Also, be sure to check out the song written right before this recording at our reverbnation site: http://www.reverbnation.com/thebeersidescoundrels.

Episode 5: Franco-Ruski Duetch Hiptsers

BeersideScoundrels — Wed, 07 Mar 2012 19:20:39 +0000

This podcast came entirely from out-takes during recording. Beeswing by Richard Thompson Dirty Slow by The Beerside Scoundrels

Episode 4: Songs, cats and video games

BeersideScoundrels — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 09:17:06 +0000

Two, count them two songs in this episode, as well as a discussion of what video games we are currently playing. Also a cat. Road Beyond the Pale is a new original song by the Beerside Scoundrels. ALL OF THE HARD DAYS ARE GONE By Kevin McKrell, Dráguin Music

Episode 3: Announcements!

BeersideScoundrels — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 03:08:03 +0000

Find out exciting news from the Beerside Scoundrels!

Episode 2: Lots of Penis Talk, and Lines in the Sand

BeersideScoundrels — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 02:28:02 +0000

Lines in the Sand There's dust on the wind Cries in the night Fires Burn the Sky and all we know is right There's tears on the road footsteps in the mud we run to the wood as the streets begin to flood Chorus: We are the stolen children The faceless have no land We'll give the trees their eyes and we draw lines in the sand No man can trap us no law keeps us down no fighting nature no way, but to drown The sould sof the forust watch us while we sleep they're our to know terror and we're there's to keep Chorus Come bring your armies the forests shield my dreams my spirits protect me and blood will fill the streams no force can ever take me the spirits guide my hand the storms will burn the bridges while I draw lines in the sand

The recording of the writing of the music of the Ballad of Whiskey Dick

BeersideScoundrels — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 16:30:41 +0000

The Beerside Scoundrels write music, with solidarity. He's a drunken lout, he's a layabout you curse, you coax, you pray, The only time you need him, he won't come out to play. He's a right old prick, he's the shortest stick, He's blind, he's dumb, he's thick And whenever there is trouble, we all blame ol' whisky dick In Canada, Dick and I hunt beaver from the wood. They're hard to catch, and worse to eat, but nothing feels so good. I planned to mount that beaver, if Dick could make the shot, he must've been quite nervous, he didn't even cock. One lady had a furry cat I rather did adore One day it came in from the rain, it was dripping on the floor, I tried to pet that kitty, with Whiskey Dick right by my side One look at him and that lady's sopping pussy up and dried. One night I went out drinking when I spied a rosy bramble I thought I would deflower it so towards it I did amble Dick cried "TAG!" and tripped me with a rather hardy push Because of whisky dick I wound up face-first in the bush. One day my buddy Whiskey Dick went missing for a while I discovered Whiskey Dick had died... I couldn't help but smile. Dick was stiff and buried, it was more than I could take. 'til he came back to haunt me when I was drinkin' at his wake.