you didn't count on the last of the assholes
the last of the lineage, a long culmination of
your college ex boyfriends, the guys in that crust band,
the internet creeps, and your grandma's opinions.
you didn't count on the last of the assholes,
because you didn't count on letting anyone in.
after the one you thought
would be the last of the assholes
you swore you'd never let em under your skin again.
it's a jarring sensation when you've fallen under
and a mix up of anger and shame and embarrassment
is the pain that just compounds,
and comes back to haunt you
when you find that you've made
the mistake of believing in
the stories you tell yourself about how it won't happen
and the courage you earned
and then all your self-confidence
it drains when you've waved off
what you'd thought was the last of them,
to find that the next one had just gotten in again.
and when it happens again, where will you be?
what will you do if it happens to you and your whole life
you'd be subject to that shame and embarrassment
over and over again? and even if it thickens your skin
you'd be left with the lingering question of
"when would you ever trust again?"
but you didn't count on the last of the assholes.
the last of the assholes standing outside the metro,
but he hollered and called and he said
"show she me a smile, girl,"
and followed you home when you said
"you can go fuck yourself,"
you didn't count on all the incessant comments.
you didn't count on your father's third wife,
but then the last of the assholes
was your step mom's admonishments,
the words clung deeply and it stung like a knife wound.
you didn't count on the last of the assholes
but the last of the assholes
would find his way in your bed,
and you soon saw his face
in every dog out there barking at you.
when you said no, but he still did what he wanted.
then the last of the assholes
was that rip in your grocery bag.
the last of the assholes was that drunk at the bar.
the last of the assholes had you fed up and screaming
that you'd never be safe
till you were far far away from it all...
supported by 17 fans who also own “Last of the Assholes”
All for no one and none for all. If everyone is for themselves then there's no one for us all.
When everyone i know's still standing in the shadows of the men who left their mark, i'd rather be left in the dark.
Signature rejection of individualism wrapped in broader themes of abuse, injustice and inadequacy, The Papas: the family abolitionist's anthem. isqroll
supported by 15 fans who also own “Last of the Assholes”
I absolutely love this album. I'm so thankful that I got the opportunity to see spoonboy's last show. It was so awesome and made his songs mean even more to me. Candace Kenney
A bite-size serving of power pop from a rising Virginia band equipped with three different guitarists; riff snobs won't be disappointed. Bandcamp New & Notable Feb 18, 2024
These marauding punk songs—featuring Mary Timony, Alec MacKaye, Mark Cisneros, and Chris Wilson—summon the spirit of classic D.C. hardcore. Bandcamp New & Notable Jul 22, 2019