Send In The Robots
by Peter Breeze & Maxwell Maxwell
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Digital Album
Immediate download of 11-track album in your choice of 320k mp3, FLAC, or just about any other format you could possibly desire. $10-100 sliding scale based on how rich you are and how much you love us and/or want us to go on tour.Buy Now $10 USD or more
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Taxi
04:24
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O Face
03:06
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Sex Crimes
02:00
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Dallas
03:54
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Intermi55ion
02:44
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Firecrotch
03:30
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Optimistic
04:20
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X-Rated Angel
04:39
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You Make Me Vampire
02:54
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Las Vegas Hairspray
03:47
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about
PETER BREEZE says: this album represents so many things to me and is the product of so many people. it is made up of the dreams of young boy, the love of a family, the passion of friendships, broken hearts and sleepless nights, dance parties and teardrops and promises of forever. it is made up of ego and truth, art and clublife, romance and bad choices but no regrets. it is a statement and it is a reflection. it is a collaboration and it is a journey. a learning experience and the end of a chapter. the support i have received is to great to describe and the attention from haters has only made me a better artist, performer and person. to my mom and my sister for loving me unconditionally and letting me dream. to my friends: you are my blood. my bones. my heart and my soul. without you i would just be a pile of dust withing it was glitter. i dedicate this album to the peterbreeze in everyone. .Act like a star. If you believe it so will everyone else. Trust me. I owe the following people BJs: Maxwell Maxwell, Jared, Derek, Armstrong Jr., Betti Forde, Mark Kenneth Woods, Tommy D, The Odyssey, James St. James, Larry Tee, Gossip Boy, Xtra West, Homorazzi.com, David Sandford, and Dickey Doo.
MAXWELL MAXWELL would like to thank Betti Forde for endless amounts of love and support and two Christmas dinners in a row, James St James for making Peter and me famous on the internet, Felix Cartal for showing me how to make party techno muzak, and the many other total smokin hotties who have been so awesome to me: I would love to name-drop you if I only had the space.
MAXWELL MAXWELL would like to thank Betti Forde for endless amounts of love and support and two Christmas dinners in a row, James St James for making Peter and me famous on the internet, Felix Cartal for showing me how to make party techno muzak, and the many other total smokin hotties who have been so awesome to me: I would love to name-drop you if I only had the space.
credits
released 15 March 2010
Peter Breeze: lead vocals. Maxwell Maxwell: all instruments, backing vocals, programming.
Peter Breeze: lead vocals. Maxwell Maxwell: all instruments, backing vocals, programming.
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- Track Name: Fuck Talk (Buy Me A Drink)
- Buy me a drink buy me a drink buy me a drink buy me a drink buy me a drink buy me a drink, go to my place (What you gonna say to me? What you gonna do to me?). What I wanna know is why you say to me that you like it rough, when what you do to me is never rough enough, and then you say to me that you think you're in love. Well, there's no room for romance in the back of my club. And then you say to me that you like it rough, when what you do to me is never rough enough, and then you say to me that you think you're in love, but there's no room for romance in the back of my club.
- Track Name: Taxi
- I don't give a fuck, I'm scandalous, showing up to the club looking glamorous. Falling out of taxis, looking all fancy, everybody pointing cameras at me. And when I come through the door, I hear them roaring. Some bitches rolling their eyes, jealousy's boring. I don't give a fuck when I'm at the bar, because I got no cash and no credit cards. Push my reputation, plan my domination, alert the press, I'm a club sensation. Well haters need to hate like fish need to swim, but I love when they say "look at him." I... uh, I don't give a fuck about it.
- Track Name: O Face
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I go out Monday to Sunday, don't get back home till dawn. Six o'clock, I start predrinking, gotta get get my pregame on. Guest list got my name on it, them door girls do me right. Bitches in line all jealous. Friday's Bridge-and-Tunnel night. In line with jealous haters acting like they don't talk shit all up on Facebook, Manhunt, Twitter, jealous of my ladystick.
Don't judge me, you ain't a jury. Bitch, you wastey stumbley slurry. Fuck your muscles, girl, you just some trash from Surrey.
Put your O face on, put your O face on, get your bronzer and your hair gel and your fake Louis Vuitton. Put your O face on, put your O face on. Fucking haters, I'mma go off in their faces like a bomb.
I see them bitches' comments up on every single blog calling me a prostitution whore, a dirty lady dog. Well keep it coming, bitches: it's free publicity with all them jealous motherfuckers trying to piss on me.
I don't care if you love this song, just fucking put your shirt back on. - Track Name: Sex Crimes
- Spending all your spending all your spending all your money on me spending all your spending all your spending all your dough. Spending all your spending all your spending all your money, got me down on my knees like a top-notch ho. You can't resist me when you kiss me kiss me you gon' love me long time, wrap my legs around you and you pound it like a sex crime. Anybody finds out, the two of us could do time.
- Track Name: Dallas
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When you look at me like that, it makes me wonder what you spike those eyes with. Feels like I'm under attack: "Survival of the Most Desperate Lovers." How do I look when I stop-stop cold in my tracks? Gotta go, find me in the west side. Wait around to go for a ride, I'm like a luxury car anyone can pay to drive. I don't trust myself around you; I can't control myself around you. I wanna work it like you do, and so I find myself on every corner so beautifully abused. If this is your world, then I'm a foreigner. You've got me all black and blue, all twisted up until I lose my grip on the facts. Your equation's got me confused. Don't need protection cause I always cover my tracks.
Oh god, I think I'm in love. - Track Name: Firecrotch
- Tell me does the carpet match the drapes drapes drapes? You's a firecrotch, yup yup, you got me burnin up, firecrotch, yup yup, you got me burning-burning. The motherfucking club is on fire-fire, the motherfucking club is on fire.
- Track Name: Optimistic
- Waiting by the phone, I'm wondering if you'll call me for a good time. It rings and I pick it up, and hear you somewhere down the line, and you're probably not in love with me. But it's alright, because I can't stand to be alone for one more night. And when I kiss you, I feel like an optimist, but when I walk home I know I'm just a name on a list. I'm still a call away from you. You tell me, "Maybe you should stop reading romance novels made for teenage girls. You're not the favorite person of anybody in the god damn world."
- Track Name: X-Rated Angel
- I got a message from God: He said to set you on fire. Well, I don't need gasoline - I'll just use my desire. I got a message from God: He said this song was on fire. You better get on the floor, don't wanna call Him a liar. X-rated angel, x-rated angel, I don't need gasoline. X-rated angel, so, so alarming. I know that he's bad, but he's my Prince Charming. Well, I don't need gasoline. Hold your breath, hold your breath baby. Well, I don't need gasoline.
- Track Name: You Make Me Vampire
- You killed me, but the disco brought me back. I been keeping out of sunlight lucky I can take a taxi from the coffin to the club. I been keeping out of sunlight baby I just gotta get out and find some fresh blood. I been keeping out of sunlight baby my lips can't resist your kiss, give me your evil eye. I been keeping out of sunlight, lucky I got this two-six of Jack to bring me back to life. When you bring me back - I said I'd never go back. You fill my heart with blood, you make me vampire. And when you play my track, you make my heartstrings snap. You fill my heart with blood, you make me vampire. I just gotta get out and I just gotta get out and I just gotta get out and find some fresh blood.
- Track Name: Las Vegas Hairspray
- Work, boots, turn, pose. I'll be fine, I got 66 reasons why the lights keep burning my eyes, but I'm still dancing. And tonight, mascara falls from the sky; Las Vegas Hairspray and I are going dancing. We're going dancing. All her life, all her life, all her life, all her life Miss Vegas Hairspray has been misunderstood. But nobody ever made that all-night diner look so fucking good. Work, boots, turn, pose.
