Lyrics

The Fridge (The Refridgerator Blues)
(Dumanski/Normand)
Well you drove through town,
barely 'nough time
To throw me your keys and drive away
Finally fed up with bein' shacked up
With the skinniest kid this side of the Bay

Now I'm gettin' down, I'm feelin' gritty
This cute little baby face ain't lookin' so purty
They say when you're depressed you always eat
Think I'll fry myself up a side of beef

But sixteen snacks and a big meal later
There ain't no food in the refridgerator
And it's lookin' and feelin'
oddly like my heart
It's cold and bare and that light in there
Once the door's shut doesn't give a spark
Yeah this fridge is lookin'
awfully like my heart

I got low fat this & that...
Flat coke & cracker jacks
Left over ham
that's startin' to look like spam
Somethin' in the crisper...
thought I heard it whisper
"You never deserved her, man!"
Maybe I'll get buttered up...
be your little buttercup
Maybe then you'll come back home
But I gotta get beefed up... ...Quick!
Somebody get me to the drive-thru window
__________________________________________________
Paul Allen (Drums)
Luc Normand (Vocals, Guitars)
Terry SanCartier (Vocals, Keyboards)
Ian Dumanski (Lead Guitar)
Dylan Heffern (Backing Vocals, Bass)

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Produced by Lone Brethren
Recorded & mastered @ Jonoville Studios
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