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Give No Quarter

by Bet Your Life

  • Streaming + Download

    Purchasable with gift card


  • Give No Quarter CD
    Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes in a sweet full-colour recycled cardboard pocket with artwork by Dave Schultz. Each of us will kiss the disc so that when you're kissing the disc it's like you're kissing us and we're in love.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Give No Quarter via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

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Deadlights 03:22
Uselessness is a cold sweat While swinging fists at an emptiness. It's made up but it's earnest As earthquakes travel to our wrists And hands. It's completely pointless, Like shouting insight at the television. Yet there is something to be said About the disconnected shadows on the wall. And just like that the panic's up and gone away, Leaving the mystery at fucked up biology. When there's nothing to the weight on the other side, We're left to scramble for the fulcrum throughout the night. Relief is a day break, Bringing the end to invention and outrage At unfounded stirrings. It's not much but I'll settle for the fatigue. I wish there were reasons, Deep roots to grasp, to disarm, But it seems they come and go As easily as the air we need to breathe. My eyes are peeled wide open. They spin around the room like manufactured truths. My head, it rolls with apprehension. It's ridiculous but I guess I'll write it off as waning youth.
Never mind the red, it's right after left Left after right and you're left with nothing To tickertape to the virtuous The trail drops off the edge Don't try to separate the blood from the spoil Just blow out the smoke and now you've got something Presentable for the worst of us Let's start the feel-good parade You've gotta hold them under to tide us over Give us a reason and you know we'll look away. All the big plans, all the setbacks All the angles, and the paths of attack If you found a way to be right again If you think you found a way to be just Look at yourself, who the hell do you think you are? You've gotta hold them under to tide us over Give us a reason and you know we'll look away. You're gonna hold us under to tide them over, Give them a reason and you know they'll look away.
Tom Bombadil 02:22
In a world of deaf and blind, You are the only one alive. You are a shepherd, herding sheep, Wading through waters three feet deep. You are the self-appointed lead In the plight against tragedy And you'll wave that flag around, Use it to methodically remove doubt. What else goes on inside that head? Is there much room for more Than self-centered embellishments? I can't help but want to tear you down, But I know the trouble you would cause And there is not much room for that. In a world of sight and sound, You are the brightest one around. You light fires at your feet, Breadcrumbs not meant for clemency. Your pedestal's a crutch, Precarious in touch. You make sure you're recognized All your blunders martyrized. I have recurring dreams Of you brought down to your knees. It's odd that you'd have that effect. In your lonely fantasy, your living murder scene You are the suspect and the dead.
I've got little bones to pick With all these skeletons. They've got me rattling to my grave. One by one I stuff them in And ten by ten they spill back out To point their middle fingers at my name. Quit peering through my windows. Quit standing at my door. I've been working on my slight of hand And sharpening my teeth But I won't go dancing on my grave. With vacancies in storages On every corner here you can Find somewhere else to lay the blame. We break then we pretend that we meant none of it. These dead are not my friends. We waste and we collect, but we need none of it. These bones won't mean the end.
S Club 02:06
We're aimless, without antic We are the undecided We're blundered, dissatisfied We'll never make up the time We're burning books of prose and poetry Those fuckers lied to me There's no such thing as art These metaphors are getting overwrit And scrutinized to bits There's no such thing We're ailing, we're frantic And yet there's nothing wrong here We're hopeless because we hoped for more Than simply doing fine We're burning books of prose and poetry Those fuckers lied to me There's no such thing as art These metaphors are getting overwrit And scrutinized to bits There's no such thing Everything we've done Everything we wrote Everything is gone But it doesn't matter now And it didn't matter then Everything was wrong


released March 25, 2014

“Give No Quarter” EP Recorded at The Vault, Produced by Jimi James, Mastered by Greg Hatchette, Album Art by Dave Schultz. All songs written and performed by Bet Your Life, all lyrics by Scott Blinch. Special thanks to Nick Ashley, Just Another Punk Show, and London Indie Underground. CC BY-NC-SA, 2014




Bet Your Life London, Ontario

Bet Your Life, an independent punk rock band based out of London Ontario, reared its ugly head in the early spring of 2011. Known for their catchy choruses and in-your-face vocal styling, the members of Bet Your Life have been writing and performing original music together for approximately eight years. ... more

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