For the good times

by the crooked crew

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From the forthcoming album "Insular" by the crooked crew


Are you ready to live as if nothing else matters?
Are you ready to ship all your troubles abroad?
If you die quietly no one will remember.
If you go down in style nobody will care

The second before the crash,
your life flashed in front of your eyes
No memories were worth a dime.
you were looking for good times that just were not there

When I found this old place it was only a wasteland
It might look like a shack but found love in the shed
I worked hard and I lied and I built for their pleasure
I was merrily thrown to the depths of despair

Why didn’t you call an ambulance!
When the bleeding reached your holding arms
You know you got to cut some knots;
I was looking for good times that just were not there

Where’s the spark in your eyes and the light that guided you
I was covered and buried in several shades of grey
Seven years and three months since I last climbed to heaven
It’s been life and a half since I last touched your skin

Don’t waste your time digging the past that you hated so much
Nothing to talk about after I’m gone
You were looking for good times that just were not there
HURRAH for the good times!! Nobody will care
I was looking for good times I wish I was dead


released December 5, 2014
Written & produced by Captain Excuse
Arranged by the Crooked Crew:
C. Excuse
J.L. Rodríguez
F. Vicario
J. Gutiérrez

Crooked times and warped psyches produce skewed melodies. Those angular hard emotions coalesce in The Crooked Crew, a band primed to develop after rock ‘n’ roll. They project glacial, redemptive tunes of introspection- that inwardly melodic new terrain.

Via many guises Captain Excuse has continued unstaled by custom to tap the source of the original with oftentimes a pop edge. A viable pop frame for myriad convergences that permeate the work as if the most vital of vocabularies have to be the commercial, but as dignified transport. After the influences that make a band evolve this one has arrived at a contemplative edifice of atmospheres.

Insular is comprised of tunes questing to mean something by these crooked veterans undimmed by time.
Tony Sanders



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the crooked crew Spain

The Captain has landed
Praise the Captain
fear the captain
worship the Captain
leave the captain alone
The Captain don't want to be disturbed

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