The Mornings Aint Warm (Boudreau) planted deep in the back of my head are the seeds of things my daddy once said and up sprouted this stubborn old tree with fading roots and lofted dreams there's still a couple of two by fours suppose…

T Boudreau - Lyrics / Music Bonehead - Guitar, Vocals Thunder Chris - Drums, B Vocs Tim Hochadel - Bass, B Vocals John Young - Keys Eddie Davis - Lead guitar

T Boudreau - Lyrics / Music Bonehead - Guitar, Vocals Thunder Chris - Drums, B Vocs Tim Hochadel - Bass, B Vocals John Young - Keys Eddie Davis - Lead guitar

Justin Otter Guy (just another guy) and Gene Eric Mann (generic man) are the same musician. My originals are penned as Gene tunes (alonetone.com/mythopoetica) and my covers are uploaded as Justin tunes (/redshirt).

Justin Otter Guy (just another guy) and Gene Eric Mann (generic man) are the same musician. My originals are penned as Gene tunes (alonetone.com/mythopoetica) and my covers are uploaded as Justin tunes (/redshirt).

All Messed Up (Boudreau) I was hanging on the end of the block near the record shop Waiting for my boys to show You spilled out of a cab with your bags full of get up n go And I wasn’t looking for trouble but it sure has a subtle way of…

High 'n Mighty (t boudreau) Well look who made it halfway I truly must be blessed I made a few mistakes and caught a couple of breaks I guess And I always do it my way I make it up as I go along I think I earned some slack to take a…

Michael and Theodore (C Maiorano) Remembering things we did, hell we were just kids The best was yet to come, thinking back makes me feel numb Why? Broken homes made us family, we shared our drink merrily Dealt with things our own way…

Just Passin’ Thru (t boudreau) Take whatever you want from me (babe) Take all that you need I need to lighten my load lately To a certain degree Tokens only are slowing me down There’s a lot of luggage in life Chatter scattered across…

Back To What We Know (Boudreau) Packed in some old suitcase in the back of a closet shelf Holds the stories that all but tell themselves And maybe long forgotten or on the tip of a razors tongue They demand a ransom for our young It…