Listen now on all major music platforms!

Scrambled Eggs Album Credits:

"I Can't Do Anything Right"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass. Joel Hill-Drums.

You better leave and swallow your pride
But if you need to you can stay here for one more night
I really mean it this time
Tomorrow morning goodbye
I can't do anything right
I can't believe you're taking his side
I took a beating and you're hanging me out to dry
And now you're too drunk to drive
And I'm too angry to fight
I can't do anything right
I never been to California, Oh but it sounds so good
Drive to the ocean with a six string, six pack and fall asleep on the hood
I never been to California, So if it takes all night
I'm gonna make it 'cause I hate this place and I just can't do anything right
I can't do anything right
I grab my keys and turn out the lights
I'd take you with me but I know how you hate long drives
I really mean it this time

"Learning How to Love"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass, Keys. Joel Hill- Drums. Yannie Reynecke-Guitar.

She's getting buzzed to my background music
She's falling for another line
She'll end up with another Shack Town loser
I'm 'bout to lose my fucking mind
I'm in the corner like a dumbed down jukebox
She's catching someone else's eye
I'm pushing off another cracked out floozey
She's in his back seat getting high
She's learning how to love
Learning how to love again
Come in stumbling and cock-eyed crazy
And says I'm funny when I'm mad
You've been with every man with pants on, baby
But you're the best I've ever had
You're learning how to love
Learning how to love again
You're just another song I felt like writing
You're just a tape up on the shelf
The only time time I think we're meant for each other
Is when you're with somebody else
Love

"Better Late Than Ever"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass. Joel Hill-Drums. Yannie Reynecke-Guitar. Will Kimbrough-Guitar. Aaron Tosti-Percussion.

It's hard to move back home when you're damn twenty eight years old
Dad said he don't mind, but I don't know
He always said one day he'd hear me on the radio
Better late than never, I suppose
Late to bloom, I booked a room, there's powder in my nose
Only three more nights and four more shows
One day I might play these songs, and not feel so alone
I feel it in the bottom of my bones
Better late than never, I suppose
The mini-van is running like a gambler's winning horse
She's seen better days but she's seen worse
Cut my hair and wear long sleeves in case I get pulled over
Late to find the piece of mind I chose
Better late than ever, I suppose

"Pickup Lines"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass, Keys. Joel Hill-Drums. Will Kimbrough-Guitar.

She said you were no good, you stood and you took your chances
Let's make it clear I ain't worthy of an advancement
Pack up get paid, your friend said you might wanna go dancing
I know a place, it's really close, I ain't romancing
So why you gotta be so mean, hurt my pride
I know what you mean to me, despite that evil (eye)
I can show you
High's so high you wanna marry me
Low's so low you wanna bury me
Buzz so good you wanna buy from me
Love so real that you would die for me
You haven't even heard my pickup lines
She said you were so good, you stood and you held her hands
This time next year we're gonna cancel all of our plans
Let's make it clear, I ain't tryin'a get in your pants
But I got a place, it's really close, it ain't no mansion
So why you gotta be so sweet, so benign
I know what you mean to me, despite that evil (eye)
I can show you...

"Baby's Done More Time Than Me"
BLM- Vox, Guitar, Drums, Percussion. John Sturm- Harmonica. Yannie Reynecke-Guitar. Will Kimbrough-Guitar.

Baby's done more time than me
She gets me my pills, gets me my weed
Now she'll be gone about three, four more weeks
I'm too afraid to stay here, too afraid to leave
Her last man, oh, he really terrify me
I said my baby, she done more time than me
Baby, she done more time than me
I've been locked up, several times
Mostly petty crimes, I had to pay me some fines
Police man see me, he don't pay me no mind
But my baby spends her days and nights in cell block nine
I said my baby, she done more time than me
Oh, she got a terrible thirst
See I like bourbon, but she like it worse
We was both on the wagon, but she jumped first
But it puts her to sleep, you know it's the only thing that works

"Savannah"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass, Keys. Joel Hill-Drums. Yannie Reynecke-Guitar. Will Kimbrough-Guitar.

You were embarrassed sitting alone on the train
Nobody came
He was still married, cringed at the sound of her name
Drove him insane
She was from Paris, you were from Plum, Pennsylvania
He swore to Mary, he would be there if you came
You waited all day in Georgia
Savannah
The river was snoring, and after the morning came rain
Couldn't it wait
He was ignoring all of the calls that you placed
Seven or eight
You were his darling, not like his old ball and chain
Kiss without mercy, held you so close when he said
I'll see you again in Georgia
Savannah
How could you do this to me
You strained
Boarding the 10:23
I'm sorry Savannah
He left you in Georgia
I'm sorry Savannah

"Try Again"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass. Joel Hill-Drums. Yannie Reynecke-Guitar. Aaron Tosti-Percussion.

I'm only working every day
I'm only drinking when I'm lonely
That old heartache
It's been aching again
It's got me thinking
Oh, can we make it if we try again
See I've been working all day
But I'm a singer when I'm lonely
That old heart break
It's got me singing again
And when I'm drinking it's
Oh, can we make it if we try again
I wanna try again
And make the same old mistakes with you
We'll end up crying like we always do
I don't give a damn, I wanna try again
I wanna try again

"Gasoline and Beer"
BLM-Vox, Guitar. Yannie Reynecke-Guitars. Will Kimbrough-Guitar.

Stopped in Marietta to rub some road out of my eyes
Calculating gasoline, my tank is almost dry
How much gasoline and beer can twenty dollars buy
I'd rather drink, and sit and think, than drive another mile
I hope this check from Michigan decides to clear tonight
'Cause if it does I'll catch a buzz, and leave and be just fine
But if it don't, don't think I won't still drink until I'm blind
And sleep in Marietta 'til the sun lights up the West Virginia line
I told the barkeep Micki that I'm trying for Carolina
She looked at me with pity in her eyes
Outside Detroit city I was flying high and smiling
I lost that smile somewhere miles behind
Woke up in Marietta rubbing sleep out of my eyes
Calculating gasolone, my tank is still bone dry
How much gasoline and beer can seven dollars buy
I'd rather drink, and sit and think, than drive another mile

"Scrambled Eggs"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass, Keys. Joel Hill-Drums. Yannie Reynecke-Guitars. Aaron Tosti-Percussion.

It's getting harder now to replicate
The separation between love and hate
You scream with certainty that love is great
Predispositions seem to dissipate
Guess nobody told you, you're too hard on yourself
Guess nobody told you, you really should seek help
Guess nobody told you, you've become someone else
What happened to the old you, now it's cold and blue
Don't try to count up all the pills you take
Good thing you get a refill on the eighth
Take one to sleep and one to stay awake
Take what you need and eat your scrambled eggs
Guess nobody told you, you're too hard on yourself
Guess nobody told you, you really should seek help
Guess nobody told you, you've become someone else
So why'd you kill the old you, 'cause they told you to

"Be More Than This"
BLM-Vox, Guitars, Bass. Joel Hill-Drums. Yannie Reynecke- Guitar. Aaron Tosti-Percussion.

Try not to scratch your new tattoos
Another set of morning after blues
Another stack of unpaid dues
But you claw your way on through
She really wanna know the name of the band
She wanna meet the guitar man
Knock down the microphone stand
And it's getting out of hand
They wanna be more than this
Don't wanna play covers
Wanna play a real rock and roll show, somewhere else
They want the people to dance
And bounce off of each other
Making devil signs with their hands
They wanna be more than this
It's getting rowdy, it's getting loud
They're getting older to a younger crowd
Next guy that "Freebird" shouts, go knock that fucker out
They're getting confident, they're getting crass
They're getting comfortable with playing trashed
They're saving money up to move out to Nashville
And make it big at last

"William"
BLM-Vox, Guitar. Eric Reid-Fiddle. Will Kimbrough-Guitar.

He left the Galley for a one man sloop
They ain't ever catching up to you
He muttered softly while the East wind blew him a hundred some nautical miles
He had a reasonably pissed off crew
He'd keep his neck warm with a London noose
He had a bag of jewels and gold coins too, and a few subterranean piles
I'm not a dog and I won't die that way
Avoid the narrows, sail to Oyster Bay
It's not a choice if you don't live to stay heinously awaiting trial
With eyes adjusted to the pitch black shore
His landing silent for the high tide roar
He saw a candle dance upon the door, and planned his surprising arrival
I swear I'll shoot if you don't let me in
He pushed his pistol up against her chin
She said I'm not alone but don't hurt him, he's had a rough go for a while
He shoved his way inside and slammed the door
Her little boy awake, sprung off the floor
And dropped his soldier toy and stared with horror at his first real, bonafide pirate
The stranger hid inside his dad's wardrobe
Which hadn't open since he went to war
I guess in Heaven, you don't need clothes, or if so just probably white ones
The pounding door shook down her frail disguise
The boy could strongly stand and recognize
Her crying eyelids and their soon demise, she said some lies are fine but just one once
Brandishing, they came with drawn out swords
And told her we know that you open doors
See we've been watching and we need a word, that boy has something he's hiding
He said I'm crying 'cause I need a bite
And no man since has treated Mama right
So if you want one, then you found a fight, otherwise fly with your tidings
It's not a lot but you can have some too
He said I never meant to startle you
She said I have some pot and some cold Stew, widow's jokes don't go too far, huh
He pulled a flask out of his boa boot
Said take a sip or two but just don't shoot
She said I'm livid and your point is moot, maybe go try and lay down some
He tried to sneak out 'fore the sun did rise
The boy was sleeping with a sharp pen knife
His boots were dry now, and his bag behind, dragging it now toward his freedom
She said I'll never keep a candle lit
He said be still and this won't hurt a bit
You don't know who or how to deal with this, but trust me, I just don't need it
He grabbed her apron with a tight left hand
And spilled his jewels and gold until it ran
On to the soldier toy and snake boot sand that he tracked in, he kissed her and fled then
It took a year before the news did hit
They up and left out to Connecticut
And even strung up, he just wouldn't quit, the first rope broke was a Godsend
He choked a little bit and then he laughed
I guess you're never gonna find that map
With bloody lungs he tried for one last gasp, the second time clouded his eyes some
He finally opened up his dad's wardrobe
Which hadn't opened since the year before
I guess in Heaven you just don't need clothes, or if so just probably white ones
He saw a candle dance upon the door
He saw a leather jacket on the floor
Take a sip or two but don't take more, a soldier boot shine caught his eyes
The inner pocket held a wet, cold, weight
A couple X's next to Buzzards Bay
I'm not a dog and I won't die that way for a few subterranean piles...

Produced, engineered, and mixed by Bobby Lee Magyarosi

Additional engineering by Aman Sahe, Yannie Reynecke, Will Kimbrough

Artwork by Mara Magyarosi-Laytner

Mastering by Bobbi Giel at Welcome to 1979 (Nashville, TN)

All songs written by Bobby Lee Magyarosi