To understand the curbside saints you have to start with the pub. Ah the pub... for six long agonizing months we lived under the most ridiculously loud pub in all of New Jersey. Broke and most of the time jobless there was absolutely nothing to do. Every night seven days a week from 8pm to 2:30am the floor rumbled and shook with 'the best' 1983 to 1987 hair metal music. Mullets, White Snake shirts, shaved heads with red suspenders, this place was hell! Every time we stepped out of our apartment we were met with anger and hatred. From this oppressive environment our music was forged, and now since you know the story we give you the results... THE CURBSIDE SAINTS!

We drink, drink till we hit the floor. Then ask for mor till they show use the door. With the night said and done, and the morning has come we return to the worl we're trying to ignore.