Welcome to camp
In the kitchen
On the line
Around the campfire
At the desk
On the porch

Here's where we'll be posting the lyrics to Kevin's tunes...

the off-season

All my life I've been a slob I've done the dirty dusty job
I grunt and groan and spend my time eking out a living in the grease and grime
All week long from nine to five is how I manage to survive
Saturdays I'm set free
A working class stiff is all I'll ever be

I've no plans on getting very far; I'll never be a surgeon or a movie star
Or a lawyer or an athlete or an astronaut or a thousand other things that I am not
I have no treasure I've found no cure, and the only thing I know for sure Is that even if I win the lottery
A working class stiff is all I'll ever be

It makes no difference what shirt you wear when you kneel at night to say your prayer
It makes no difference what games you win if you can't live happily in your own skin
Because to each a time and place will come, no matter who you are or where you're from

And when I die, the world will see
That a working class stiff is all I'll ever be
Yea when I die the world will see
That a working class stiff is all I'll ever be
So hand me my hammer before you bury me
Because a working class stiff is all I'll ever be

the off-season

I'd like to think I'm a pretty nice guy, or at least I'd like to think I try
To always look you in the eye; I do my best to satisfy
I'll take your plate up if you're done, I'll hold the door for anyone
I'm my mother's favorite son; I'm cheerful, happy, lots of fun
That's why it's weird, the way I feel, when I climb in my automobile
And put my hands upon the wheel of my very own two tons of steel
I see the world through safety glass, shift the gears, and hit the gas
The only way I drive is fast, if you're in my lane I'm bound to pass

CHORUS      I got road rage- you're going too slow, I gotta get where I gotta go
     Road rage-I'm feeling the burn, don't even think of trying to take that turn
      Road rage- don't know why you stare, I don't see a crosswalk there
      Road rage- all I can say is, "look out, you idiot, you're in my way"

Ask my friends and they'll report that my temper it is far from short
I truly am the decent sort, salt of the earth, a real good sport
At work in my business suit I'm charming, witty, polite, and cute
Patience is an attribute, until I hit that late commute
Which is when and where it's clear to me that the whole world is my enemy
And every single car I see is keeping me from breaking free
My thoughts they drift towards homicide, my anger surges deep inside
Mixes with my sense of pride, I pray to god we don't collide


It's a phenomenon that I can't explain- it's a chemical reaction in my brain
I start to feel the strain and then I go totally insane
When the light turns from red to green, I'm down the road, feeling mean
Around the corner I careen, I'm a madman in my mad machine


Listen to sample

Home - In the Kitchen - On the Line - Around the Fire - At the Desk - On the Porch