Virginia's Playlist

by Third Class

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  • Record/Vinyl + Digital Album

    Third Class presents a 20-song, double LP, on black vinyl. Enjoy the poetic journey through Ohio innocence on this amazing grand opus of indie balladry.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Virginia's Playlist via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Third Class' Virginia's Playlist is available in a short-run of compact discs while supplies last. Enjoy the musical journal through family diaries.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Virginia's Playlist via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days
    edition of 30 

      $10 USD or more 

     

1.
We're college radio, but no one plays us. We've never played a show where people paid us right. And, in our pinkie toe, we've got more talent than you could ever know. Your bass rig towers, high. Your bass rig towers, high; it rises to the sky; and can I ask you why? Your trendy, pseudo fad is void of meaning. Your poetry is bad. I'm intervening here.
2.
We start in Portland, where I was born, then. We'll take a road trip, don't know where we're going. Radio, press record on the cassette. Radio, press record on the cassette. Radio, radio, press record on the cassette. We play the keyboard, whenever we're bored. We're playing ping-pong, music, all night long. Radio, press record on the cassette. Radio, press record on the cassette. Radio, radio, press record on the cassette.
3.
Lately, I've been feeling like a failure to my friends and everyone, around. Lately, I've been acting so immature and my crying only brings you down. Lately, I've been thinking 'bout Kentucky, swept away by Louisville's big skies. Lately, I can't recognize you all. You're all grown up and, tell me, where am I? Pour out of the radio and slap me on the wrist. The world sounds like poetry, the world I have missed. All my proudest moments have been written on a plaque. The world sounds like poetry, but I'm too old to go back. Shake up the magnolia; break a branch; I tumble down. Shake up the magnolia; break a branch; I tumble down. Shake up the magnolia; break a branch; I tumble down. Shake up the magnolia; break a branch. Pour out of the radio and slap me on the wrist. The world sounds like poetry, the world I have missed. All my proudest moments have been written on a plaque. The world sounds like poetry, but I'm too old to go back. The world sounds like poetry, but I'm too old to go back. The world sounds like poetry, but I'm too old to go back.
4.
In the early evening, Steve was talking to me, cigarettes in the street, sandals hanging on feet. We were speaking our thoughts, thinking of Alan Watts, in some old parking lots, threw a ball that he caught. If I bounce this ball off the ground, will it come back to me? If I make you smile with my words, would you do that for me? You see, I feel like a fool when I dream in the lonely twilight. If I bounce this ball off the ground, will it come back alright? And, I can't fix anything. All I want to do is sing. I tell everyone, 'round here, and they laugh and call me queer. If I bounce this ball off the ground, will it come back to me? If I make you smile with my words, would you do that for me? You see, I feel like a fool when I dream in the lonely twilight. If I bounce this ball off the ground, will it come back alright?
5.
It's too bad, we met at your graduation party, 'cause I'd sure like to go to school to look at you. I'd sure like to go to school to look at you. Golly, gee, babe, I think you are really swell, but I wanna kiss you until you bleed. I wanna kiss you until your lips fall off. Let's go sailing.
6.
Every day, I fall in love, more and more, and I can't hit the floor. I can feel the lump inside of my throat; it's making me choke. When I can I see you, again? I'll never live with this pain. I'll never live with this pain. I'm lonely for you. I can't help myself. I'm under a spell and I don't feel well, anymore, anymore. I'm lonely for you, for you, for you.
7.
You and me, doing somersaults, dance on feet and we tumble and fall. Listen to John Oates and Daryl Hall; you be the cat; I'll be the dog. Crying in the dark, and I wish I was somebody else. Crying in the dark, and I wish I was somebody else. You and me, climbing on the roof, you are scared and I am aloof. You and me, climbing on the spruce, count the stars, try and touch the moon. Crying in the dark, and I wish I was somebody else. Crying in the dark, and I wish I was somebody else.
8.
Hardwood Sky 04:41
When the moon is a cat's detached claw, lying, loose, on the floor, and the sky is made of hardwood, when the tune doesn't catch or latch on, we are dormant and bored, asking why we stay in this hood. When you're lighting a match and you're gone and the juice doesn't pour, and you'd fly away if you could, when your work is all patch with a saw and some glue and The Lord, and you start to pray Hollywood, don't, don't go. It might not show, but we need you here. You're a stone's throw. You might not know, but we need you here. As we snored, the cat purred, one last time, rolling off of the bed. We just thought she was so lazy. We ignored the facts, sure that she wouldn't be, wouldn't be dead. Man, we oughtta be so crazy. I assure you that her intentions were nothing but the best. Man, her eyes were just so hazy. She was sore and she hurt. It was time; she was going to rest. She vibrated and then was free. Don't, don't go. It might not show, but we need you here. You're a stone's throw. You might not even know, but we need you here.
9.
Speak to me, my love. Don't leave me, standing here, like a lonesome dove, one black eye moist with fear. I recognize your taste. You're in a tender dream. Relating is a waste, hearing your dreadful scream. You're lonely, as an owl. I like your pointy ears. Speak to me, my love. Twice, through my eye, you peer. Like a dove, you coo. Don't leave me hanging on. Don't leave me hanging on. Don't leave me hanging on. Don't leave me hanging on.
10.
Driving in Seattle, in the early-morning night. I'm a little rattled as I stop, at the red light. It's important to go down south, 'cause, in Portland, I'll find the house my parents lived in, hospital I was born in, I've got to go, get sworn in, find my way back to Portland. I gotta grow up. Crossing over bridges, busking on Alberta St, "Losing My Religion" playing as I sit and eat. This is more than I could expect. This is Portland, cause and effect. I see the buildings, things my dad must have learning, things that satisfy my yearning. This place gets my heart churning. I gotta grow up.
11.
On top of a roof, gazing at the sea, philosophical light shining onto me, packing our bags and hitting the road, searching for dreams inside a houseboat, Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Full of confetti and hopes, wanting somebody to tell him how to live, Dad was still just a young man, but truth is a difficult, difficult, difficult word. I'm on the beach with salt in my pores. White light is beating onto the shores, seagulls above and waves coming in. Cancer is beating under my skin. Thousands of light bulbs in the garage, maybe this Watts is just a mirage. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Full of confetti and hopes, wanting somebody to tell him how to live, Dad was still just a young man, but truth is a difficult, difficult, difficult word (difficult, difficult word). Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home. Alan Watts' face is so close to home.
12.
I hate to admit this, Nora, but I've had broken spirits at both of my jobs. I'm beginning to think that my cousin was right when he said that life just gets harder. But, I like dancing to sad songs. Music, slow dance, all night long. You say you want so much more, but you're only saying that because you think that's supposed to be true. Wait, and you'll see the score, and you'll see the leaf tornadoes and the blues will take you all the way home. I hate to admit this, Nora, but I've had broken spirits since poetry died. I'm beginning to think that my cousin was right when he said that life is a liar. You say you want so much more, but you're only saying that because you think that's supposed to be true. Wait, and you'll see the score, and you'll see the leaf tornadoes and the blues will take you all the way home. Sometimes, I find that my own mind's eye flashes with red, white, and blue. But, try as I might, I can't decide for my dreams not to be of you. Splashing water, in the sun, in rivers, Washington, my lover, oh my god. Splashing water, Granite Falls, Andorra, Washington, my lover, I love her. I love her. I love her. No one can control all the colors of you. Deep, down in my soul, I flash with colors of you, you. Sometimes, I find that my own mind's eye flashes with colors of you. But, try as I might, I can't realize, every stream leads to the ocean, too. I love you. I love you. No one can control all the colors of you. Deep, down in my soul, I flash with colors of you, you.
13.
Let's play in the summertime. Let's play in the wintertime. Scout's honor, I can tell you I'm in a better mood, today, a better mood, today. From now on, I want all my meals to be burnt by campfire. From now on, I want all my peers to be in my empire. From now on, I want all my friends to be glad they have friends. From now on, I want my bad ideas to sound like good poems. Let's play in the summertime. Let's play in the wintertime. Scout's honor, I can tell you I'm in a better mood, today, a better mood, today.
14.
Why are you stuck in this living room? Outside, it's getting bright. I hear the train tracks' boom. Love is new to my wild head. Doves fly through. The morning is bright red. She's in the hospital, somewhere, and you're on the floor, just lying there. He's in the hospital, holding her hand. You're gonna have a little brother in no time. She's in the hospital, somewhere, and you're on the floor, just lying there. He's in the hospital, holding her hand. You're gonna have a little brother in no time.
15.
Once, I dreamt my father back to life. Sea green robes around him, he met me at my bus stop. He smiled, muttered something, and walked with me, up the street, to home, his eyes still sunk into black rings on his face from when he was sick. I once sleepwalked to that same bus stop, practicing for when he died.
16.
You're Sick 01:29
Why can't you, for once, just tell me you're sick? Why couldn't you, for once, just tell me that you were sick? Why can't you, for once, just tell me you're sick? Just tell me you're sick. Just tell me you're sick. You broke my heart. Why can't you just say you were laughing at me? Why can't you just say you were laughing at me? Why can't you just say you were laughing at me? You were always angry and disgusted with me. You broke my heart. How you could you just say you were never happy? How could you just say you were never happy? How could you just say you were never happy? You were always angry and disgusted with me. You broke my heart. Why can't you, for once, just tell me you're sick?
17.
A Dream 03:22
And, when they first met each other, they talked. They went and danced at prom. They walked in her backyard, then her name was on his arm, on his arm. And, then, they were in love, one day. They fell, they fell into a dream. They fell into a dream they could always hold onto, a dream they weren't scared to pursue, a dream. I will always have you, you. And, when the memories flood back, I smile, when we were rained upon, when we woke up, at dawn, the pillow on Christmas, how you got picked up by the fuzz, the poems and the jokes, the music that I wrote, when you climbed into bed, how you get inside my head, the 10 days you weren't around, the escalator that you came down, the angel I have found. We fell into a dream we could always hold onto, a dream we weren't scared to pursue, a dream. I will always have you, you.
18.
Me And Wally 05:02
Poison ivy, poison ivy, behind the house, don't follow me. Don't follow me, the crying sound. Diagnose, please. Diagnose, please; the hives break out. Now, let's go see. Now, let's go see the sky fall down. Me and Wally, me and Wally, in children's books, we were young, we. We were young, we were skilled, small crooks. Reality, reality and fiction hooked. On Halloween, on Halloween, we killed with looks. We went corning. We went corning; we threw at cars. In the morning, in the morning, our guilt was large. Then, the brakes screeched. Then, the brakes screeched. The door slammed, hard. They were chasing, they were chasing us through the yard.
19.
Witch Hunt 03:04
We went out, in a field, tonight, searching for witches in a broad moonlight, scraggly sticks, poking into our clothes, billows of smoke, coming out of our nose. I thought about cancer, then I felt sick. I thought of all the things that I missed, as a kid. I thought of my best friends; where are they, now? Working 'til they die, stuck, inside their house, what do we do? What do we do about that? We played a show, in a bar, tonight, brothers and friends, on a stage, in flight. We played a song and it made you cry. Why does everybody always have to die? I thought about cancer, then I felt sick. I thought of all the things that I missed, as a kid. I thought of my best friends; where are they, now? Working 'til they die, stuck, inside their house, what do we do? What do we do? What do we do? What do we do about that?
20.
Sweet Potato 04:30
We went to the old-folks home. Grandma sat there, all alone. We didn't have too many words. We felt a little bit absurd. Sweet potato, take me away. Eat at the table. How was your day? I wish I could stay. Sweet potato, take me away. We talked about the president. We talked about places we went. We talked about when we were young. We talked and it was kind of fun. Sweet potato, take me away. Eat at the table. How was your day? I wish I could stay. Sweet potato, take me away.

about

Virginia's Playlist (2017) is Third Class' diary-themed collection of songs about love and travel. The only album to include a notable amount of guest performances, including posthumous family members, Playlist is an audio-scrapbook of unearthed memories.

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released January 1, 2017

Third Class: Music, Lyrics, Production, Album Art
Sam Goodwill: Additional Music
Ellen Frost: Additional Music
Karen Boyle: Additional Music, Album Art
Wade Boyle: Additional Music
Steve Boyle: Additional Music
Jerry Remish: Additional Music
Craig Beigh: Additional Music
Brandon Hull: Additional Music
Emily Zinkn: Additional Music
Erin Kane: Additional Music
Joe D'Amato: Additional Music
Cathy Knowlden: Additional Music
Dave Knowlden: Additional Music
Jim Martin: Additional Music
Jonny Locomotive: Additional Music
Dog OK: Additional Music
The Automatons: Additional Music
SexyPigDivas: Additional Music
Floor Baba: Additional Music
Historian Recording Co.: Engineering
Cauliflower Audio: Mastering

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Third Class East Palestine, Ohio

Third Class makes Ohioan poetic pop music via abstract travelogues, small-town alienation, childhood nostalgia, and true love, since 1999.

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