Skye Giordano's SPILLER Direct MP3 Link Eliot Frick featuring Ryan Bury Lyrics by Matt Jensen Additional lyrics by Eliot Frick and Ryan Bury Cover art by Matt Jensen Produced by Eliot Frick for RitualLab Management: Joe Jackson It's close to midnight and Skyesy G. is drinking at the bar "Grab me a Red Stripe" you shout but doubt that he will get that far You try to scream, but "Ring of Fire" is blaring from the jukebox You start to freeze, 'cause warning Skyesy simply will not stop, A beer that will drop. CHORUS Cause this is Spiller, Spiller's night Shitfaced he can prove the law of gravity is right You know it's Spiller, Spiller's night Careful with that knife or it's a killer Spiller tonight You hear the door slam: Skye's back home at six five twenty one Vodka in his hand, looks like he just made a Patrick's run You close your eyes as he pulls out four cans of ice cold Pimp Juice But all the while, even if it takes away your pains You know that shit stains But this is Spiller, Spiller's night Prob'ly shouldn't drink a drink that makes my urine bright You know it's Spiller, Spiller's night Careful with that knife or it's a killer Spiller tonight BRIDGE Rug doctors call And cleaning solvents all are on proud display There's no solution: that's paint you kicked over tonight How are your carpets so white? They're out to get you, and drag you out for drinks before last call It's quite a mess you see when Spiller's chatting up some doll Now is the time, that Spiller drops his drink on that fine lady All through the night, he offers shots for ruining her shoe But spills those drinks too! Cause this is Spiller, Spiller's night Homeboy spills so much he makes an old brewmaster cry Girl this is Spiller, Spiller's night Careful with that knife or it's a killer, chiller, Spiller killer Spiller's here tonight It's last call across the land The midnight hour has passed again Spiller prowls in search of food And farts up yawls neighborhood Now, whosoever shall be found When Alf’s cat pizza comes around Must stand and face the rang doorbell And tip the driver, tip him well The foulest stench is the air The funk of forty thousand beers Soon noisy drunks bumrush the room They know their slice will be gone soon And tho he spills upon his shirt Our Spiller does not shiver For no mere red sauce can resist The Tide stick of the Spiller Muhahahahahaha!