MDO

  • Lyrics

    Written by: Chad Dean

    I ain’t never been to Mexico, never took part in no gang. Been in a few circles, ran down a few lines.
    But I’m always gonna do my own thing.
    I been down so many roads, not too many of ‘em slow. Paid top dollar for them diamond rings.
    But I’m always gonna do my own thing.

    Banging my head on top of a wall, can’t think of a better way to slow down the flow of the river running through my veins.
    Pain at the thought of losing you, could drive any old boy insane.
    No matter what tomorrow brings I’m gonna do my own thing.

    Spinning like a top in the bottom of a hole, waiting for the sun to rise.
    Life’s a long lesson but a big surprise.
    Lord knows I gotta do my own thing.

    Banging my head on top of a wall, can’t think of a better way
    To slow down the flow of the river running through my veins.
    Pain at the thought of losing you could drive any old boy insane.
    No matter what tomorrow brings I’m gonna do my own thing.

    Credits

    Embodiment of the Outlaw’s nature. Courage to stand alone for survival in life’s uncertainty.

    4:55

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Bob Niederriter: Bass
    Chris Merkley: Harmonica
    Chad J. Dean : Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    Many false prophets selling high hope. Don’t get addicted to the government dope.
    You got no shelter, no control, only way to be is a modern day outlaw.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.
    Take the fruit of the vine, make homemade wine.
    Working all the time, making money on the side.
    Welfare, healthcare, retirement plan, no security for a common man.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.
    Healthcare doesn’t care, welfare just ain’t fair.
    The unwritten laws stand the test of time, you don’t give ‘em up for a dollar or a dime.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.
    Billy the kid, Bonnie and Clyde, Sam Bass, Bell Star, Jesse James.
    Henry Ford, Bill Gates, Johnny Rotten, Bob Marley, Frank Lloyd Wright.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.
    Ya gotta feed the kids, give ‘em what they need.
    To make it a world of corruption and greed.
    The unwritten laws stand the test of time, you don’t give ‘em up for a dollar or a dime.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.
    Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw. Modern day outlaw.

    Credits

    Making of the Outlaw. Dissatisfaction with the world’s rules and regulations. “The unwritten laws stand the test of time, you don’t give ‘em up for a dollar or a dime”

    4:21

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Michael Wu: Bass
    Mario Torrico: Electric guitar
    Dave Robbins: Keyboards
    Rob Weinberg: Saxophone
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    I get the feeling that it’s stealing, stealing my life away.
    But it’s so appealing, when I’m feeling like it don’t matter anyway.
    So fill ‘er up to the top. Raise ‘em up, don’t never stop.
    Bound to be another bender, might as well surrender. Til we’re down to the very last drop.

    Say I’m only gonna have 2 or 3. Maybe one more we’ll wait and see.
    One more makes 4 then I’m walking out the door. But at 5 I’m feeling alive and ready for 3 more.
    I know it’s late, but at 8 I’m feeling great. I just keep drinkin’ til I can’t see straight.
    Bound to be another bender, might as well surrender, til we’re down to the very last drop.

    So fill ‘er up, yeah, to the top. Raise ‘em up, don’t never stop.
    Bound to be another bender, might as well surrender, til we’re down to the very last drop.
    Yeah, bound to be another bender, might as well surrender, til we’re down to the very last drop.
    Bound to be another bender, might as well surrender, til we’re down to the very last drop.

    Credits

    Morning after contemplation of the over-indulgence the night before.

    3:03

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Bob Niederriter: Bass
    Chad J. Dean: Drums
    Special guest vocalist: Johanna Jane Stark

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    It’s all well and fine, you wanna have a good time. You got yours and honey, I got mine.
    Tried to bring them together cause it coulda been so much better,
    Now you’re running on a different line.
    Bloody knuckles, broken glass. Past due notices, thrown in the trash.
    Cheap thrills and hospital bills, the mirror on the table, bottle of pills.
    Flying high before the crash.
    You had your high early in the afternoon, say good bye, you know I’m leaving soon.
    Had your high early in the afternoon, say good bye, you know I’m leaving soon.
    It didn’t take long to figure it out, when the liquor’s all gone and the money runs out, what you got left and what you left behind.
    I’m gonna pray for you to find your way, til you can come done, I’m walking away.
    Your resistance, creates distance, you can love nobody til you love yourself.
    Do you remember the ones that survived the storm?
    The friends and the lovers, daughters, mothers and sons.
    They were in your path as you came crashing through.
    Now there’s nothing you can do. Nothing you can do.
    You had your high early in the afternoon, say good bye, you know I’m leaving soon.
    Had your high early in the afternoon, say good bye, you know I’m leaving soon.
    It didn’t take long to figure it out, when the money’s all gone and the liquor runs out,
    What you got left and what you left behind.

    Credits

    Walking away from a toxic relationship.

    3:57

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Tom Westcott: Upright Bass
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    Rain on the road, wet leaves, fall and cold, torn and tattered, broken down and all alone.
    It’s all right this pain I’m in, it’ll go away. I’m sure it come back again.
    But I see it’s here now, can’t get around it. I don’t know how.
    So I’m letting it be, sitting here with me.
    I’ll take the pain if it’ll set me free.
    I’m an outlaw torn, what the hell’s wrong with me?
    Reckless abandon. Love and misery. Love and misery.
    I’m an outlaw torn, is something wrong with me?
    Love and misery. Love and misery.
    Trying to stitch the pieces back together, nothing seems to fit, they’re all out of place.
    Leave it alone, get over it. Put a smile upon my face.
    I’m an outlaw torn, careless and free, reckless abandon, love and misery.
    Love and misery. Love and misery. Love and misery

    Credits

    The Outlaw Torn. Sometimes the things you love can bring the most misery.

    4:12

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Bob Niederriter: Bass
    Mario Torrico: Electric guitar
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo, rap lyrical contribution by Nick Ruffo

    Got what I got, better than a lot, no it’s not, all I got.
    I got nothing, I got nothing.
    I got nothing, nothing, nothing to worry about.
    Got what I got, it’s not a lot, but it’s better than most, better than a lot.
    I got nothing, I got nothing.
    I got nothing, nothing, nothing to worry about.

    No social media, only a pen and paper, living without a clue of what’s happening over there.
    Honey-boo drama, I’m a dog, I don’t care. Kiss my tail, get behind me on the stairs.
    Fresh pedigree, nothing blocking me mentally.
    In a relationship with the music, not any ladies.
    Carly said “Can I go out to lunch with you?”
    I told her, “Sorry, I got a date with my plate of food”
    It’s difficult to talk when you’re busy with your chewing.
    Plus, I’d rather not discuss how your life is ruined.
    What do you say to someone when everything makes them bug?
    I take my Dad’s advice, I give ‘em the zen shrug.
    Have yourself a laugh, it’ll post-pone wrinkles.
    In the game, I’m staying on top like sprinkles.

    I got no house, got no lawn. But I can stay up, til the crack of dawn.
    Got no job. No boss. Got a pint of bourbon, I’m gonna get lost.
    I got nothing, nothing, nothing to worry about.
    I got nothing nothing, nothing to worry about.
    I got nothing nothing, nothing to worry about.
    I got nothing.

    Credits

    The Outlaw leaves society to embrace the simplicity of having nothing.

    3:56

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Nick Ruffo: Vocals
    Michael Wu: Bass
    Rob Weinberg: Sax
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    Out for a ride, one Father’s day, stopped to have myself a beer.
    Wasn’t planning on staying all that long, then I saw her on the stage.
    She was traveling alone, she didn’t look very old.
    But I could tell she was tough. By the songs she sang and the stories that she told.
    I sat and watched her play. She’d say “On with the show”.
    “Hey bartender” and “The last goodbye”. “You’re all that matters”. “Can’t save them all”.
    The weekend whiskey and the workday wine.

    She’s sweet and tough, tender and rough.
    The bartender might be her biggest fan.
    She’s a bad girl, doin’ the best she can.

    Dark haired devil, angel in her eyes. Laughing way, way too loud.
    It wasn’t how she looked that got me hooked.
    But the short skirt and boots did catch my eye.

    I took a ride one Father’s Day, the day I met Katie Grace.
    I hope she doesn’t mind I stole some of her lines.
    Maybe we’ll meet again someday.

    She’s sweet and tough, tender and rough.
    I might be her biggest fan.
    She’s a bad girl, doin’ the best she can.
    She’s a bad girl. She’s a bad, bad girl doin’ the best she can.

    Credits

    Dedicated to Katie Grace, singer/songwriter and fellow student of the struggles of life.

    3:25

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Tom Westcott: Upright Bass
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo, rap lyrical contribution by Nick Ruffo

    You better listen or you won’t know what to do.
    Teacher told you ‘bout the rules.
    Friends taught ya how to get away and not get caught.
    Parents told ya, better make up your mind.
    Gotta get moving, you’re running out of time.
    Boss man told ya, better not be late.
    Preacher said you get to church, kneel down and pray.

    So many voice, so much to say. Hard to know what to believe.
    The voices in your head, the longing in your heart.
    Might be the best place to start.
    Told ya. Told ya.

    Where have I been the last 20 years? Noodling around, doing nothing with my piers?
    The elders told me “better get focused”. In one ear out the other didn’t notice.
    Then it all hit me like an avalanche, I gotta get cooking while I have the chance.
    It’s all about balance but I’ve been too lax.
    Complacency, it can end you fast.
    Yeah, you can settle with average, do enough each day to manage.
    All the way to the end and then it hits you in the face with regret, no bandage.
    Health class said the drugs were harming.
    Read a couple quotes by Vince Lombardi.
    That’ll get ya high and not just early, it’ll tag along ‘til the end of the journey.
    Told ya. Told ya.

    Credits

    Sorting through the many voices trying to show the way.

    3:29

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Nick Ruffo: Vocals
    Michael Wu: Bass
    Dave Robbins: Keyboards
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    Life goes by day by day. Time is a curse, watch it slip away.
    Pay no attention, gotta change your mind.
    You can’t measure the space between living and dying.
    It’s constant change, like a river let it flow. Ride the current, wherever it goes.
    Pick your battles. Are they worth the fight?
    Will you stand and be slaughtered? Just to be right.
    Or will you walk away knowing that you did no harm?
    Knowing that you’re stronger still and weathering the storm.

    Living is dying. Living is dying. The change goes on without even trying.
    A happy man sad, it’s a strong man crying. Living is dying.

    May all the things that touched your heart
    About those that passed before you, made you who you are.
    Grow in you, show in you, and get passed on to others that they’ll always live on.

    Living is dying, living is dying. We carry on. Lord knows we’re trying.
    A happy man sad, and it’s a strong man crying. Living is dying.
    Living is dying, living is dying. I’m holding on. I’m trying.
    A happy man sad, a strong man crying. Living is dying.

    Credits

    All that lives must die and all that dies will live on. A relationship ends, a loved one dies, the circle of life goes on.

    3:36

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Tom Westcott: Upright Bass
    Tim Ruffo: electric guitar
    Chad J. Dean: Drums
    (Lyrical contribution on the 2nd verse by Hannah Ward)

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  • Lyrics

    Written by: Tim Ruffo

    I was arrested, sent to do my time.
    They might of found me guilty, but the charge don’t fit the crime.
    Good intentions, bad decisions. Just trying to pay my dues.
    Taking chances, living on the edge. Thought I had nothing to lose.
    I was condemned by assumptions. Alone I stand accused.

    I’m tired of being wrong. So tired of being wrong.
    Can’t we just get along? So tired of being wrong.

    Said some things I never should have said. Done some things, never should have done.
    Well I’ll admit, sometimes I don’t know when to quit. Just keep hanging on.
    I’m tired of being wrong. So tired of being wrong.
    Can’t we just get along? So tired of being wrong.

    Well I’m tired of being wrong. So tired of being wrong.
    Can’t we just get along? So tired of being wrong.

    Credits

    Accepting the faults and flaws, out of frustrations from being falsely accused and having to fight for freedom. The instrumental ending symbolizes forgiveness and letting go.

    5:01

    Tim Ruffo: Vocals and acoustic guitar
    Michael Wu: Bass
    Mario Torrico: Electric guitar
    Dave Robbins: Keyboards
    Chad J. Dean: Drums

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Thank you, Mom and Dad, my sister; Jen Dean and my brother in law, Chad J.Dean.

My sons; Nick and Corey. Mary Ann Ruffo, My brothers; Ray and Chris Ruffo and all the rest of my family.

Jeff DaBella, Jeff “Lovin’ Mr. E.” Edwards, Anthony “Road Taco” Hopkins, Jake McKinney, Joe Lewis, Jack Briedenstien, Michael Wu, Tom Wescott, Dave Robbins, Bob Niederriter, Mario Torrico, Gene Hummel, Bob Welch.

Thanks also to everyone that ever fed me, put me up, put up with me, gave me a pillow, drove me home, drove me crazy, rode along with me, tried to run me over, tried to stop me, tried to catch me, let me fall, picked me up, tried to keep up, stuck around or simply walked away.

I love you all.