The Pointless Page


Suck on This (1990)


I just want to satisfy you. I would like to rectify you.
Pay no attention to what you've heard. This mediocrity is so absurd.
But I won't listen to erratic advice. Don't make me ask you nice.
I just want to satisfy you. I would like to contemplate you.
Perhaps sometime we'll irritate you. I won't listen to sparratic advice.
Don't make me ask you twice. I just want to satisfy you.
Note: The other songs appear on other albums, so I only wrote them once.

Frizzle Fry (1990)

To Defy the Laws of Tradition

What if Christmas didn't come this year, and no one paid for Christmas cheer?
Who would cry the biggest tear - the child or the store?
Why do brides wear virgin white? Most do not deserve that right.
But to choose a color of their delight, would surely bring on the frowns.

To defy the laws of tradition, is a crusade only of the brave.

Suppose the taxman, he comes to town, and you don't lay your money down.
Yet Mr. Jones, he killed Mr. Brown the other day.
Well I wonder, who's gonna go to hell?

Groundhog's Day

Hey, Hey, Bob Cock Here....
When I woke up this mornin' I felt a pang. I was hungerin' for some apple pie.
Stumble in the bathroom, hung my hog a little bit, washed the sleep out of my eye.
Oh yeah, it's gonna be a fine day.

Scratched myself a bit, poured me out a bowl-a corn chex, closest thing I could find to apple pie.
Lingerin' taste of toothpaste made the milk go down a bit funny, but you know, them chex they do satisfy.
Oh yeah, this'll be a fine day.

So, after my mornin' rise-n-shine and eat-n-clean, had my mind set to hit them streets.
Drizzle from the night left cold puddles out, had my black stomp-boots on my feet.
It's my day.

Since I was in kneepants my pop had tried to make me realize,
If I set my mind down to it I could be a big man in the public eye.
So with my big blue collar on, I set out to find the easy way.
What an ice cold bath it was when I found you had to pay to play.
To taste the taste it's a tease that never would subside.
The taste is strong but soured by my learned eyes.
Well, if a woodchuck could chuck wood, he'd get down on his knees to pray.
This little snappy boy might see the light this ground hog's day.

Too Many Puppies

Too many puppies are being shot in the dark. Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spilled, so that we may maintain our oil fields.

Too many puppies...

Too many puppies are taught to heal. Too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts, that buy mistresses sleek animal pelts.

Too many puppies...

Peanut sat on a railroad track, his heart was all a flutter.
Along came a train, turned him to peanut butter.

Too many puppies with guns in their hands. Too many puppies in foreign lands.
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and placed upon the war machine.
Too many puppies are just like me. Too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again. Too many puppies, too many dead men.

El Sobrante Number One

Mr. Knowitall

They call me Mr. Knowitall. I will not compromise.
I will not be told what to do. I shall not step aside.

They call me Mr. Knowitall. I have no time to waste.
My mouth it spews pure intellect, and I've such elegant taste.

They call me Mr. Knowitall. I sup the aged wine.
Oh I could tell such wonderous tales, if I should find the time.
Well I must be Mr. Knowitall, for ideas they come in bounds.
I am Mr. Knowitall, so spread the word around.

They call me Mr. Knowitall, I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name, and whatever rhymes with eloquent...

Frizzle Fry

Hello all you boys and girls, I'd like to take you to the inside world.
It's quite an irregular place to be, but never fear you're safe with me.
Well, maybe....

Golden hair of macrame', against the face that's cut from stone.
The white porcelain is screaming Ayee!
Thank God the the boy is not alone....

I don't believe in Santa Claus. I don't belive in spite.
I have no use for beauty dolls. Especially on this night.
I don't believe in miracles. I don't belive in lies.
I don't belive in hologram. For I am the Frizzle Fry.

Andy's painting green again, this time they might take him away!
When Barrington starts to breathe again. It way just take us all away!
I don't believe in charity. I don't believe in sin.
And if you don't believe in me, we'll play this tune over again.
I don't believe in pinochle, and I don't beleive I'll try.
I do believe in Captain Crunch, for I am the Frizzle Fry.
Yes I am the Frizzle Fry.

John the Fisherman

When he was young you'd not find him doing well in school.
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule,
He has no time for farmer's daughters.
Alienated from the clique society,
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says "John this is not the way life's supposed to be."
"Don't you see the life that you are missing?"
And he says...

When I grow up I want to be, one of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman.

Now years gone by we find man that rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark May morning .
To bring his catch back to this small community.
He doesn't see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled,
The fog rolled in it started raining.
"The starboard bow." "Oh my God we're going down!"
The do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says...

When I grow up I want to be, one of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done, I want to be a fisherman.
"I'll live and die a fisherman."
Calling John the Fisherman...

The Toys go Winding Down

An overaged boy of thirty-nine has left the wing today.
The first time in his life he's made that step.
Be numbed by the society and plagued by insecurity.
He's entered in a race that must be won.
One of the animals has left its cage today.
In search of better things so it seems to be.
But in this land of polyurethane,
Things are apt to get a bit hot.
As the toys go winding down....

C. G. the Mexican is a friend of mine.
We used to sit around the house watching evil dead.
Talking about the way it used to be...Skiddeley dit dad dow da day.
We used to pull the stripers out of Sand Pablo bay.
Now the delta waters go down So. Cal.
And the stripers start to fade away.
It's pudding time!
It's pudding time!
As the toys go winding down.

Pudding Time

You can have a lolly popa candy bar a jelly bean.
I'll buy you a rainbow to hang above your door.
It's pudding time...

Laughter is a sweet you can't put a price on.
When laughter's all gone Daddy won't buy you more.
It's pudding time...
It's pudding time children.

Money money money to buy you things,
Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings horses and all the kings men, Couldn't put Humpty together again.

San Francisco bay the striped bass are dying.
But you're gonna get that brand new bike.
Oh joy!
It's pudding time...
It's pudding time children.

Sathington Willoby

We are gathered here today in these majestic halls of old,
to honor a man they call Sathington Willoughby.

There's a joke or two, a pun or three, I feel that must be
told then I go on to speak of Sathington Willoughby.

Sathington Willoughby, the legislator that penned us up a bill.
That banned the use of certain things like this and that...

Spegetti Western

Why do we do this C.G. and I?
Every night vegetables, minds numbed up by THC.
I've got my pen, C.G. the remote.
Laurel and Hardy's the best bet at four A.M. On a Friday.
No dreads about the working day after though.
Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed,
They don't quite mean so much,
'cept you get to hang out with all your working friends.
Well we got us a spegetti western on 36.
I like spegetti westerns.
I like the way the boots are all reverbed out walking across the hardwood floors.
In fact, everything's got that big reverb sound.
Well what'll I do now? Go to sleep? Pull the pud?
We need new pornos! Well, I guess I'm still writing...

Harold of the Rocks

It was a weekend's eve, I had sex on my breath.
I was lookin' for somethin' to see.
With a borrowed black leather and my best fishin' hat,
Well it was just Wendy O. and me.
We called old Swamp up on the telephone,
And said we was comin' on down to pick him up and then he said,
"Hey Snappy, me and Greeny'll come along...
But only if we can bring a friend."
"His name is Harold."

I said "Okay."
Now, we had a Swamper, Greeny, Wendy O, Stanley, Harold of the Rocks and me.
We hopped into my dart, and headed for the nightbreak,
To see a man they call Schooly D.
Harold he's a friendly guy, he rambles on and on,
He'll talk the balls off a rhinosaurus.
Fact is he just doesn't make much sense,
Well Stan said, "This guy's pretty bizarre Gus."

Harold of the Rocks.

I saw Harold at a party Trouzy threw late one night,
I said, "hey man, do you remember me?"
He said, "O' course I do Snapdad and let me tell ya right 'Bout now I'm lit
Up like an ol' Christmas tree."
"Hey bro you know I'd like to thank you once,
Again for let'n me Hang with ya' all across the bay.
When I look back at that night I get me a warm spot across my heart."
Then he shook my hand, and walked away.
That's the last I seen of Harold.

Harold of the Rocks.
So in the end, Swamper and Greeny finally succumb to the ways of Harold.
And in doing so each gave just a little bit of his soul away.
What a couple of dumbshits...

Sailing the Seas of Cheese (1991)

Seas of Cheese

When the going gets tough, and the stomach acids flow.
The cold wind of conformity is nipping at your nose.
When some trendy new atrocity has brought yo to your knees.
Come with us, we'll sail the Seas of Cheese.

Here Come the Bastards

Here they come...Here come the bastards
I heard it from a confidant- who heard it form a confidant.
They're definately on their way.
There's one with this idea...something about a hammer head shark.
Nosehairs and flatus- best keep your distance because,
Here they come. Here come the bastards.
Bury your head, deep in the sand.
Anonyminity is a virtue in this day and age.
Amazing hand dexterity, flagrant misuse of security,
Better run...Here they come...

Sgt. Baker

Sgt. Baker is my name,
I'm gonna teach you how to play the game of warfare.
Suddenly it appears to me, you got a bit much dignity,
For your own good, boy. Yes sir, yes sir...
I will rape your personality.
Pummel you with my own philosophy.
Strip you of your self-integrity.
To make you all a bit like me.
I said right... left...

Sgt. Baker here again,
And if you calls me "Puddin Tame", I'll stomp you down, boy.
Steers and Queers. Steers and Queers.
Where you come, from there's just steers and queers.
And you ain't got no horns, boy.
Yes sir, yes sir...

I will rape your personality.
Pummel you with my own philosophy.
Strip you of your self-integrity.
To make you all a bit like me.
I said right... left...

American Life

In a town in southernmost Sicily, lived a family too proud to be poor.
In the year that fever took father away, they hastened for American shores.
Now a mother and her son are standing in line, it's a cold day on Ellis Isle.
And they look to the Statue of Liberty, for the boy we have American Life.

Ong is a Laotian refugee, he works in the audio trade.
The smoke from flux is filling his lungs, he's earning minimum wage.
Spending spare time down on San Pablo Ave., once a week gets a woman for the night.
And he writes home tales of prosperity, for the boy we have American Life.

Bob is an unemployed veteran, born and bred in the South Bronx.
He's living off the streets down in east L.A., residing in a cardboard box.
Now he plays a little quit and he has a small dog, searching for aluminum cans.
And he hold on tight to his dignity. he was born into American Life.

Jerry Was a Race Car Driver

Jerry was a Race car driver, and he drove so goddamned fast.
He never did win no checkered flag, but he never did come in last.
Jerry was a race car driver, he'd say "El Sob. Number One."
With a bocephus sticker on his 442, he'd light 'em up just for fun.

Captain Pierce was a fireman. Richmond engine #3,
I'll be a wealthy man, when I get a dime,
for all the things that man taught to me.
Captain Pierce was a strong man. Strong as any man alive.
It stuck in his craw that they made him retire at the age of 65.

Jerry was a race car driver. 22 years old.
Had one too many cold beers one night, and wrapped himself around a telephone pole.


I just can't seem to blend into society.
I have no hope for this dim simplicity.
Of law and order.
By whose rules I see no rhyme in the reason,
I hold no hope for this holy treason.
Of love and so soft.
By whose standards?
They tell me, they tell me.
Who are they, who is they?

Is It Luck?

My socks and shoes always match...Is it Luck?
There's a foot at the end of each of my legs...Is it Luck?
I can play my bass for you...Is it Luck?
Some gals like to kiss my face...Is it Luck? Is it Luck?

There was food inside your mouth today...Is it Luck?
Your barber cuts your hair just so...Is it Luck?
When the taste of sex is on your lips...Is it Luck? Is it Luck?

Cyanide works oh so fast...Is it Luck?
Polyester makes you sweat...Is it Luck?
If a graham cracker gets you off...Is it Luck?
Love. Love...Is it Luck? Is it Luck?

She said she wanted my body, not my mind so I showed her
my dictionary to show the words that I know and how loquacious
I can be when I set my mind down to it, but she wasn't impressed.
No, No, No, No, No. She wasn't impressed at all! She wispered in my ear,
Do you wanna' get lucky little boy? I smiled...I smiled and said,
Is it Luck?

Grandpa's Little Dity

As I stand in the Shower, singing Opera and such...
Pondering the possibility that I, pull the pud too much.
There's a scent that fills the it flatus? Just a touch.
And it makes me think of you...

Tommy the Cat

I remember as it were a meal ago
Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever
foreign matter may have nestled its way into His mighty throat.
Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank
down the cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling machine.
Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator.
Tommy the cat had many a story to tell,
but it was a rare occasion such as this that he did.

She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit.
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the
oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days.
The sight was beyond belief. Many a head snapped for double,
even triple, takes as this vivacious feline made her her way into the
delta of the alleyway where the most virile of the young tabbys were known to hang out.
They hung in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in One place...
and that was O'malley's Alley.
The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended) but not even a
muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered up into the heart of the alley.
She knew what she wanted. She was lookin' for that stud bull.
She was looking for that key cat. And that was me.
Tommy the Cat is my name, and I say unto thee...

Say baby do you wanna lay down by me, say baby do you wanna' lay down by my side?

Those Damn Blue-Collar Tweekers

I've seen them out at Soco, they're pounding sixteen penny nails.
The truckers on the interstate, have been known to ride the rails.
The sweat is beating on the brow, can't keep these fellas down.
'Cause those damned blue-collared tweekers are runnin' this here town.

I knew a man who hung drywall, he hung it mighty quick.
A trip or two to the blue room, would help him do the trick.
His foreman would pat him on the back, whenever he would come around.
'Cause these dammed blue-collar tweekers are beloved in this here town.

Now the union boys are there to protect us from all the corporate type,
While curious George's drug patrol is out here hunting snipe,
Now they try to tell me different, but you know I ain't no clown.
'Cause those damned blue-collar tweekers are the backbone of this town.

Now the flame that burns twice as bright, burns only half as long.
My eyes are growing weary as I finalize this song.
So sit back and have a cup o' joe, and watch the wheels go round.
'Cause those damned blue-collar tweekers have always run this town.

Fish On

Felt a pang late one afternoon, I was fishin' off Muir beach with Larry LeLonde.
Grabbed a tuna salad sandwich, and I started to chew. Pretty soon Ler's yellin'-
Fish on! Fish on!

I was just a little pup, and it was derby day.
Was dad and me and Darrell out in San Pablo bay.
Taco flavored Doritos, and my orange life vest,
Dad caught a hundred pound sturgeon on twenty-pound test.
Now he fought that fish for an hour and a half,
Darrell'd say "Jump ya sons a bitch!"
And he grabbed for the gaff.
When we got him in the boat he measured six feet long,
I was so danged impressed I had to write a song -called Fish On!

T'was a bright and sunny day it was me and Todd Huth.
Fishin' shark & Stingray out of Bohuas Lagoon.
Well hey, hey, hey I'll be screwed, blued and tatooed.
Looks like I got me one of them.
Fish on! Fish on!

Los Bastardos

Here they Come!
Here they Come!
Here they Come!
Here they Come!

Shut up you Bastards!

You just called me a bastard, didn't ya?

These guys are freaks man!

Miscellaneous Debris (1992)


I know something about opening windows and doors.
I know how to move quietly to creep across creaky wooden floors.
I know where to find precious things in all your cupboards and drawers.
Slipping the clippers,
Slipping the clippers through the telephone wires.
The sense of isolation inspires....
Inspires me.
I like to feel the suspense when I'm certain you know I am there.

I like you lying awake, your baited breath charging the air.
I like the touch and the smell of all the pretty dresses you wear.
Intruders happy in the dark.
Intruder come.
Intruder come and leave his mark, leave his mark.

Sinister Exaggerator

Your life is leaning downhill, sloping off the outer edge.
Your undetermined oyster beds were found to be a hedge.
You cause the kids of Elmer Fudd to feed the farmer whose, Cadaver's filled with onion rings and feet are filled with glue.

Now sinister exaggerator, what's your claim to fame?
Is still your favorite Ferlingetti found in Auntie Maim?
Your alter life is superceded only from above.
Your hear is like a silken sponge that calls saliva love.

Making Plans for Nigel

We're only making plans for Nigel.
We only want what's best for him.
We're only making plans for Nigel.
Nigel just needs this helping hand.

And if young Nigel says he's happy.
He must be happy.
He must be happy in his work.

We're only making plans for Nigel.
He has his future in a British steel.
We're only making plans for Nigel.
Nigel's whole future is as good as sealed.
And if young Nigel says he's happy.
He must be happy.
He must be happy in his work.

Nigel is not outspoken but he likes to speak and loves to be spoken to.
Nigel is happy in his work.
We're only making plans for Nigel.

Have a Cigar

Come in here, dear boy, have a cigar.
You're gonna go far, fly high,
You're never gonna die, you're gonna make it if you try - they're gonna love you.
Well, I've always had a deep respect, and I mean that most sincerely.
The band is just fantastic of the town you are the talk,
but who the hell's this guy they call Bob Cock?
And did we tell you the name of the game, boy?
We call it Riding the Gravy Train!

We're just knocked out. We heard about the sell out.
You gotta get an album out,
You owe it to the people. We're so happy we can hardly count.

Everybody else is just green, have you seen the chart?
It's a helluva start,
it could be made into a monster if we all pull together as a team.
And did we tell you the name of the game, boy?
We call it Riding the Gravy Train!

Pork Soda (1993)

My Name is Mud

My name is Mud...
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis.
My name is mud and it's always been.
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen.
I dress in blue-yes navy blue from head to toe.
I'm rather drab except my patent shoes.
I make 'em shine, well most the time.
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine.
Six foort two and rude as hell, I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell.
My name is Mud.

My name is Mud, but call me Alowishus Devadander Abercrombie,
That's long for Mud, so I've been told.
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold.
I've got my pride, I drink my wine.
I'd drink the finest except I haven't earned a dime in several months,
Or were it years.
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears,
We had our words, a common spat,
So I kissed him upside the cranium with an aluminum baseball bat.
My name is Mud.

Welcome to This World

Oh, welcome to this world of fools, of pink champagne and swimming pools,
Well, all you have to lose is your virginity .
Perhaps we'll have some fun tonight, so stick around and take a bite of life,
We don't need feebleness in this proximity.

Ask good MacDuff and Donalbain, so many good ideas are slain,
By those who would dare not step out of line.
But if I have my way tonight and chances are I think I might-
I'll turn those sour minds to grapes of wine...grapes of wine!
Welcome to this world.

Don't judge the boy by what you hear, the words are heard beyond the ear,
The heart and mind are focus for this conversation.
But be abound in mystery for that so much you do to me,
For there are those who drown in adulation....adualtion!
Welcome to this world.

If I had a dime for each time that I heard them preach,
Well I'd have wicked thoughts upon my brain.


I had a friend that took a belt, took a blet and hung himself,
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived.
His woman and his little bro came home from the grocery store,
Only to find him dangling in the apartment where he lived.

I had a friend who shaved his head, put his Doctor Martins on,
And drew such wondrous pictures in the apartment where he lived.
He praised my creativity, though he spoke sarcastically,
Oh, the conversations in the apartment where he lived.

I had a friend that took a belt, took a belt and hung himself,
Hung himself in the doorway of the apartment where he lived.
Rock, she thought him spiteful; Ler, he thought him pitiful,
Me, I've never been back to the apartment where he lived.


I've been to hell. I spell it...I spell it DMV.
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I...mean.
Stood there and I've waited and choked back the urge to scream,
And if I had my druthers I'd screw a chimpanzee,
Call it -pointless.

When I need relief, I spell it THC,
Perhaps you may know vaguely what I mean.
I sit back and smoke away huge chunks of memory,
As I slowly inflict upon myself a full lobotomy,
Call it -pointless.

Barbecues, tea kettles, gobs of axle grease,
There comes a time for every man to sail the seas of cheese.
Now, life's a bowl of bagel dogs, but there are unpleasantries.
Cold toilet seats, dentist chairs and trips to DMV,
Call it -pointless.

I've been to hell. I spell it...I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows precisely what I mean.
I've stood in line and waited near an hour and fifteen,
And if I had my druthers, I'd screw that chimpanzee,
Call it -pointless.

The Ol' Diamondback Sturgeon

The old diamondback sturgeon came swimmin' along, minding his business one day.
Rooting and sniffing and urging to spawn, in the mud flats of San Pablo Bay.

A scent came around so he followed his snout, he found what was to his surprise.
A golden morsel, a tidbit, a tight bunch of grass shrimp, was there right before this buck's eyes.

He circle round twice and he took a big whiff, then sucked up this savory meal.
Then came a jolt and to the diamondback's surprise, through his lips cut the cold, barbed steel.

In a panic the old diamondback sped to the north, he sped to the east, west and south.
But the harder he swam, he still could not break free, from the "tugging" that pulled at his mouth.

The old diamondback sturgeon came swimmin' along, minding his business one day.

Nature Boy

I pull the blinds, then I take my clothes off. Dance around the house like nature boy.
My genitalia and pectoral muscles aren't quite what I would like them to be.
But you don't see me. No one can see me.

I pull my blinds, fill out my income tax form. Pen in hand I write so legibly.
I have my kitty. His name is Allowishus, I stroke him, stroke him....
But you don't see me. No one should see me

I pull the blinds, for the sun glares off my tele and I find it quite so irritating.
I have my videos -loads of Ren and Stimpy. Bottom -a bit of pornography.
But you don't see me. No one should see me.

Pork Soda

Two, Three, Four...
Now listen up you know ya come home from working that nine to five
lay yourself down on burgundy couch, you know, it never really was burgundy.
It was red, and you painted with the goddamn sprinkler and
now you have bits and pieces of burgundy stuck to your but every time
you get off of it. You never tell your family, you never tell your
family because, you know, ol' Junior, he's got no brains, and what can
you do? What can you do?
(And old Junior, you know, got a little crazy with that P.B.J. that one day...??)

Grab yourself a can of pork soda
You'll be feeling just fine
Ain't nothin' quite like sittin' 'round the house
Swillin' down them Cans of swine

Ha ha ha! Yes, Dad's an idiot alright!
Well, alright, I'm really starting to worry about you. You had to have
that two-car garage with the large driveway so you could park that
goddamn boat in it. If it wasn't for the boat (blah blah blah)

I like Kansas wine...�

Well maybe it's something simpler like your team lost,
Or you girlfriend used to be a guy?
I don't know. It's not like I'm a psychologist or anything.

The Pressman

By the light of the lamp I sit to type -my notes on tab at my side.
I don't see the sun much these days, a fluorescent tan covers my hide.
How much impact shall I have this time? My goal today is to reach the deadline.
I write between the lines. I deal with fantasy.
I report the facts. Give them to me, please.

Ham and egg salad on white bread...keeps me company on nights like this.
A pack of metholated cigarettes....keeps my air nice and thick.
When I write, words flow like coins from a candy box.
Get out of my way. I've got something to say!

The pulse is beating louder now.
The cramps in my hands grow more intense with each tik, tik, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap on the keys.
My social life is at an end so it seems to be. Why don't I trample on your lawn today?
I'll take skies of blue, turn over old skies of grey.
I write between the lines. I deal with fantasy.
I am the pressman. Acknowledge me!

Mother always told me never stray too far from home.
The little lady said, "Boy, you'll never have to be alone, because..."
You build with fountain pen. You create the memory stain.
You are the pressman. Stand up straight, boy.

Mr. Krinkle

Hello Mr. Krinkle. How are you today?
Seems the rumors are about your team might move away.
Now, me I'm sentimental, but I'm not one to cry.

Say there Mr. Krinkle, let's cruise the bastard boat.
Damn then sonsabitches with their gill-nets set afloat.
I flip on my tele and I watch the waters die. C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why.

Hey, ho, Mr. Krinkle have you heard the brand new sound?
It's a cross between Jimi Hendrix, Bocephus, Cher and James Brown.
It's called "Heavy Hometown."
New Wave, cold-filtered, low-calorie dry. C'mon Mr. Krinkle tell me why.

The Air Getting Slippery

It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here.
The air is getting slipper and it's not to my surprise.
My heart, it beats irregularly and the sweat it fills my eyes.
I do not mind what I excrete 'cause I'm here to make a buck.
And those that cannot take the heat can take a flying....

Forgive me if I hesitate.
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here.

The dogs are barking merrily as Jerry sits on high.
If you've studied your Floyd properly, you'd know that pigs could fly.
Now if you want an encore you might hear "It is Luck?"
But me, I'd rather play Residents, 'cause I don't give a....

Forgive me if I hesitate.
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here.

Now, Fatty, he's a hell of a guy but he sweats like a dancing mule.
He likes to hang out at Checker Gas with the Chets he knew from high school.
He sold enough crystal meth to buy a stepside truck.
But if you ask me twice I'd say the boy ain't worth a....

Forgive me if I hesitate.
It's incredibly hot in here today, incredibly hot in here.
Ler? Bangee Boy...

The act of perspiration is far beyond control.
If the heat compels to aspirate please try not to miss the bowl.
If sweatiness makes you horny, well darlin' I think you're in luck.
'Cause all this clever banter gives me the urge to !!!!

Riddles Are Abound Tonight (1994)

Prelude to Fear

Possibilities...Unaware, self-appointed bystandard of complete innocence.
Midday, aerobic jog, through streets not well lit by lamplight.
Prelude to Fear...

Perhaps...Picnic, setting of complete relaxation.
The sound, persists. The site, exists.
Disarray...Prelude to Fear...

But hey, fumble, growth of conscienceness.
Focusing, slow but steady, weirdness creeps.
Prelude to Fear....

Parallel, retrospective, deep sense of curiousity.

Retribution....react! Evaluate....react!
Caution...Prelude to Fear...

Physical sensation -the chill. The possiblity of mobility.
Abstract, sesation, waiting for the words.
This is only a test. This is only a test.

Riddles are Abound Tonight

Deciphered with assistance from Daniel.E.Feldman ( 2, 3, 4... Aw, what the hell was that? 2, 3,4...

Riddles are abound tonight,
Since the lizard's taken flight.
By the shroud of mystery,
The ???.

All the narqs are on to me,
We'll hope the ??? fill up the tree.
But if they cut this pie in two,
I'd still give both halves to you.

Aww Yeah!

Take the man that fills the throne,
Come to me this time alone.
Add a dash of little boys,
And watch the buzzards tear away.

Aww Yeah!

Riddles are abound tonight,
Riddles are abound tonight,
Riddles are abound tonight,
Riddles are abound tonight!

Aww Yeah!

Here's to the Man

Here's to the man, created the gun.
If you could see, what it has done.

Here's to the man, uses the gun.
Kills all kinds of creatures, just for fun.
He's on the hunt, we're on the run.
Is there remorse, when the killing is done?

Great and sunny said the man on the airwaves, great and sunny...
The appitomy of a California spring day...Johnny and Butch, two young boys,
looking for adventure this hot California spring day. The game today, cops and robbers.
"Well I'll get my daddy's gun, He keeps it on the shelf next to the dirty picture books,
I've seen it many times, I know, he doesn't know that I know but I know it all 'cause I'm a
good climber I can climb all around, just watch me go well there I go. See. Bang Bang!

Here's to the man, who holsters the gun.
For it has taken, his only son.

Shattering Song

Shattering Song....
Shattering Along

I'll tell you about this boy.....the old boy

Turn, turn the butter churn, strike a match and watch it burn

I'll tell you it's the shattering song, just shatter up a storm if you like.
We could go on, and on, heh heh heh I'll tell 'ya...tell 'ya boy...Woo Doogie!

Toyz 1988

An overaged boy of thirty-nine has left the wing today.
The first time in his life he's made that step.
Be numbed by the society and plagued by insecurity.
He's entered in a race that must be won.
One of the animals has left its cage today.
In search of better things so it seems to be.
But in this land of polyurethane,
Things are apt to get a bit hot.
As the toys go winding down....

C. G. the Mexican is a friend of mine.
We used to sit around the house watching evil dead.
Talking about the way it used to be...
We used to pull the stripers out of Sand Pablo bay.
Now the delta waters go down So. Cal.
And the stripers start to fade away.
It's pudding time, it's pudding time!
As the toys go winding down...

Temporary Phase

Deciphered with assistance from Lucy Falls ( Suppose I take a dollar bill and I crumple it in my hand,
Won't it take such empathy to make you understand,
That I am just a little boy?

I look up at the moon and I see it's made of cheese,
??? is called from her knees.
I know I shouldn't try and cross the street and down my block,
I'm stuck to the finer things, you're addicted by the law.

Cause it's a temporary phase
It's just a temporary phase

And it's running round and round and round and round about your side,
She's down beneath the waterslide.

Boy you look up at the moon, you see its made of rocks.
Your imagination's 22, it preaches when it talks.
You really shouldn't try to change your mind without your ma,
When it comes down to Biology, she says "Boy, Ask Your Pa".

Cause it's a temporary phase
It's just a temporary phase

Girls for Single Men

Girls for Single Men!

The sexiest in the bay area....make a date action

Girls for Single Men!

Don't be alone...sing my song...California action...Join the Party!

Girls for Single Men.
Err...excuse much for one of those..uh..profalactics?
But I don't have a dollar and thirty-five cents!

Girls for Single Men!

Girls for Single Men, where all your dreams come true.


I see things, I don't believe in.
And I feel things, I can't percieve.
Reality, comes quite immune to me.
While I recreate with my mind.

Come touch my hand, force big words to me.
Any conversation would irritate me.
Sanity, comes quite immune to me.
While I recreate with my mind.

You'll see things, you don't believe in.
And you'll feel things, you can't percieve.
Shut the doors, and draw the blinds.
Sit back and create, with your mind.

Tales From the Punchbowl (1995)

Professor Nutbutter's House of Treats

C'mon kiddies gather round. Who's your foremost friend in town?
From main to maple the name resounds -Professor Nutbutter.
He's the one, the humble one, the Barkley County prodigal son.
Here to serve only you -Professor Nutbutter.

At old Nutbutter's house of treats from jellied jams to sacks of sweets,
There's creamy and nutatious spreads for all.
Chemist, master of entomology, the professor for a modest fee,
Will cure what ails you, guaranteed -Professor Nutbutter.
It's alright, don't fear the worm.

C'mon kiddies don't be shy be youthful til the day you die.
The man the myth, the magic of Professor Nutbutter.
He's the one, the only one, the Meeklyville prodigal son.
Here to help us with ourselves, Professor Nutbutter.
It's alright to fear the worm.

It's alright to fear to fear the worm.
The worm is not always properly, uh, fully appreciated by the human body itself.
But, It's okay to fear the worm.
I myself have no, uh, problems with the worm.
But in certain situations I would fear what, what, what ramifications, uh, could occur,
There's really no need to uh, to fear much of anything,
Fear the...fear the temptation of the worm is probably more appropriate,
For this peticular scenario.
It depends on what you want I suppose.

Mrs. Baileen

Mrs. Blaileen - she was a sixth grade teacher.
And she controlled the children, by using humiliation.
The target always seemed to be Donny. He was a bit slower than the others.
When he was quite young his mother, died at the kitchen table while choking on some food.
The fashion of the day was bleach and tied Levi's.
Donny decided to make some, but he didn't know to rinse them.
So he came to school a reekin'. Bleach stenched filled the classroom.
Mrs. Blaileen began to chastise. She made him feel like an asshole. Two feet small.
Oh what a lonely boy....

Don and Ronald. They always stuck together.
For they were a bit different than the others, and they were as tight as brothers.
Then Ronald moved away.
Now Steven, he was year or two younger.
And he really thought he was something. He liked to harass other children
Or anyone he found outnumbered.
Alone Don walks from fishing. Steven and his friend they stop him.
They took his hat and they taunt him, Pimp-slap him with a newspaper.
Don lunged forward with his fish knife, then ran all the way home weeping.
He gave his knife to his father and said "I think I hurt Steve."
Oh what a lonely boy....

Wynona's Big Brown Beaver

Two, three, four....
Wynona's got herself a big brown beaver and she shows it off to all her friends.
One day, you know, that beaver tried to leave her, so she caged him up with cyclone fence.
Along came Lou with the old baboon, and said "Recognize that smell?"
"Smells like seven layers, That beaver eats Taco Bell."

Now Rex he was a Texan out of New Orleans and he travelled with the carnival shows.
He ran bumper cars, sucked cheap cigars and he candied up his nose.
He got wind of the big brown beaver, so he though he'd take himself a peek,
But the beaver was quick, and grabbed him by the kiwis.
Now he ain't pissed for a week. (And a half!)

Now Wynona took her big brown beaver, and she stuck him up in the air.
Said "I sure do love this big brown beaver and I wish I did have a pair."
Now the beaver onces slept for seven days, and it gave us all an awful fright.
So I tickled his chin and I gave him a pinch, and the bastard tried to bite me.
Wynona loved her big brown beaver, and she stroked him all the time.
She pricked her finger one day and it occurred to her she might have a porcupine.

Southbound Pachyderm

Quite a suprise....What an ingenious device.
Boredom encompasses my time. I don't know what I should do.
Indulging a moment of your time. Seldom the breeder of lies.
But you won't believe that it's true.

They take to the sky.
Southbound Pachyderm.

Pinholes through cardboard at the Sun,
Passing the bucks by one by one., leaving nothing in return.
Watching the majest blow past. Speculating which will be the last.
Savoring my piece of pie.

And there is no reprise.
They're filling the sky.
Southbound Pachyderm.

Year of the Parrot

In the year of our Lord....Call it 1994.
A fine vintage of mimicry....
There are those that take their sound from someone else's Toil.
Liking to parrots you see...

I've seen the likes of Kate Bush, and Van Morrison.
Teaching the parrots to sing.

Take a Zepplin riff, and you alter it a bit.
And make lots of money....It's called plagiarism.

You want some of that cheese, just take a big ol' bite.
Careful not to choke on it please.

Now here we go, It's called plagiarism.

Hellbound 17 1/2 (Theme From)

Look out Below!

Questions deserving answers, answers deserving action.
What am I of the populi, I am but a fraction?
Is there heaven? Is there Hell?
Is that tuna melt I smell? Come on.

Glass Sandwhich

He stood in line with the rest, and waited got his chance.
To take his place behind the glass, and watch the ladies dance.

It's the nature of things.

He stepped into the darkened space, the air was thick and warm.
He drops the coins in one by one, the scene unfolds before him.

He stands looking eye to thigh, as she looks down from above.
Only to be recognized, as his former love.

It's the nature of things.

Del Davis Tree Farm

Del Davis sold a Christmas tree, stood up to 8 feet tall.
Season was lookin' mighty thin, he'd hoped to sell 'em all.
Here he come, with a dollar in his hand.
Represents the epitomized man.

The boy liked rock 'n' roll, seemed that's the way he paid his way.
With the help of Del and them "Doogs", there's a bit more joy this holiday.
Here he come, with a dollar in his hand.
He represents the epitomized man.
He's Del Davis, one helluva guy...

De Anza Jig

Oh I can still remember Jenny Hernando,
She was my little lovely one when I was seventeen.
I remember the day that she gave me her viriginity,
And then she gave it to everyone in our vicinity.

Oh I can still remember Julie Tolentino,
The dancing Filipino, we used to run around.
Her and Flouncin' Freddy were going hot and steady.
Now she runs a dyke bar, the biggest one in town.

I can still remember my old friend Todd Squelati,
I watching him snort a milkshake right up his nose.
He slurped it up the left side. Blew it out the right side.
How he ever kept it down, I will never know.

Of course I still remember Ol Flouncin' Freddy,
We were pumping gas down at El Sobrante Shell.
His Mustang was his pride n' joy, he liked to dance the cowboy,
Hanging out at Jack In the Box, but eat at Taco Bell.

On the Tweek Again

Used to come around here to peddle his wares,
A lot more takers now...

The turkey "J". You can taste the air.
Around your face...

His name was Barrest Jeffries. They picked him up twice.
For cooking up amphetamine.

Now he's on the tweek again. Drinking county prune.
He doesn't mind so much....

So we'd sit around the fire. Singing "Kumbaya"
"Kumbaya" I said.

Over the Electric Grapevine

They headed southward from San Francisco, to be with Chuckles and the others.
With electric in the air and peroxide in their hair, they looked like golden brothers.
They drove a Datsun, an automatic, the radio blaring static,
He made a face into the light and burst out laughing at the sight.
The hysteria ensuing would dominate the night.
From all the candy, the seats were sticky, as they were drawn into the grapevine.
Then "Introduce Yourself" came on as they barreled through the gog.
The demon puffing madly on a mentholated log.
They were tired, they were sleepy, so they parked behind the Roxy.
Adam left to use the phone, so he sat there all alone,
When Adam's voice come beaming through on the radio, he started laughing...

Highball With the Devil (1996)

Running The Gauntlet

What are you wanting from me? Look over my shoulder as much as you please.
We're primed and we're ready to go toe to toe with disease.

And what are you hoping to see? Would it set you aback if I dropped to my knees?
We're running the guantlet and filling our socks with debris.

And what kind of game should it be? If I played any faster, my tendons would freeze.
And the boys in the back room are charging exhorbitant fees.

Holy Mackerel

Pick a name, pick a place, chances are I've had the means to be there.
Pick a date, pick a time, I got it from a friend of mine, the ability to socialize.
Holy Mackerel

Once when I was young, I troubled over imperfection in my knees.
When you cultivate a pompadour It's best to keep the top up for the breeze.
Cuts like hell, ya know.

Sporty was a poetry boy, and liked to puff his pipe into the night.
But since he sold him hits of ectasy.
Johnny Law, he took a decade of his life, that's a hunk of life.
Holy Mackerel

Highball with The Devil

He came to conquer what he could, but he held back
'Cause his tongue was tired and shy.
So he laid the money down and he drank up, put the sparkle in his eye.
Sittin' down you saw his paunch, so he stood up,
And he gazed across the room.
The toxin squeezed the head, so he slipped back.
He knew he left his seat too soon. A-Haw.

Come the morning, we'll be waiting and weilding the power to paralyze.
So we state now, for the record you brought this upon you.

Paralyze, agonize, terrorize.


Lonely, lonely boy they called him Lucy, Mama's little man,
And she calls him Hendershot, his mam called him Hendershot.

Be seen and not be heard, they told him, he grew into a big man they call Hendershot.
They always call him Hendershot.

Walking down the side streets of Soho, chances are you'll bump into our friend Hendershot.
That's Hendershot.

Sitting on a blanket near Saint Marks,
Is a man selling handbags he gets from Hendershot, but he doesn't call him Hendershot.

Calling Kyle

His momma used to dance at the Broadway shows.
Broadway, where the young men go to drop the coins in one, two, three.

He remembered walking in, not knowing appplesauce from sin.
And uncles trotted one, two, three.

Calling Kyle

His pop was met at the Ballpark Franks, he used to root for the radio Yanks.
They'd sat they'd aerate the greens.

On Coleman he would spot the sheep, on Christmas he'd kept the keep.
Turkey day saw no greens.

Calling Kyle


Rancor, rancor. Wake up and thank her. Where's Billy Bob? Gene, weight the anchor.
Rancor, rancor. You really oughtn't spank her Oh olalaberry.
Rancor, rancor. Isabella Dzerman grew up to be a banker.
Rancor, rancor. The parasite wanker does olalaberry.
She think's she's so complimentary, but it takes all kinds to bake a cake.

Cohibas Esplenditos

Uno, Doce, Thriece!
Mr. Hamster and Hot Potato Man. Turns the city on its ear.
Mr. Hamster takes Hot Potato Man by the arm, Bombay Sapphire in his hand.

And Cohibas...Esplenditos

Saw Mr. Potato Man the other day down at the wasteland.
He's a happy boy, full of vim and vigor, since the day he left his wife.
Him and the Hamster, at the nudie shows,
they like the finer things in life.

Like Cohibas...Esplenditos

Delicate Tendrils

Now, because you own, you possess,
You have something that they can take.
You remember how it was when you had nothing,
You looked at the ones that had what you wanted and you felt strong in your need,
Brave in your limited surroundings, righteous in your desire for something different.
Contempuous of those who had exactly what you wanted.
You hated them because they looked weak and slightly scared.
An you circled the waterhole and thought about closing in.
Now you have it, you feel weak in your power to keep it.
You feel desparate to make them see, that you won't let them take it away.
Because it's yours. You never had to justify yourself and possessions before.
"I earned this. I worked hard for what I got. I paid my dues. I deserve this."
You say these things to yourself as the animals circle and wait.
Shake your fists at the hyenas. Chase them away from your waterhole.
Justifiy. See them all differently. Now you see that they all want something.
They want exactly what you got.

Human gets some juice. Human becomes prey. Human gets scared.
You figure out that you have to be hard to keep it yours. You have to be cruel.
You have to kill them off just for looking. Leave the bodies by the waterhole so the rest will see.
Hang spent bullet cases from fishing line outside of all the windows of your house.
Put up signs- 'Please break in. I would love the oppurtunity to kill you legally."
Let the fear turn into desparate anger. Start seeing the differences in people.
They all start looking suspecious. They...all...want.
Out there, someone is always needy. Always hungry. Always looking at you.
Checking your eyes for weekness. Zeroing in on the vein on your neck.
Because they cicle the waterhole, and close in.


Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain Rain....

There are stories of pleasure, there are stories of pain.
But the gods torment me with slabs of rain.
It started on a Thursday and went double fortnight.
And Junior read Stern by the pilot light.

He ate more cheese, than time allowed.
So we stood him up sharp, we stood him up proud.
And they looked at him funny, but they looked at him twice.
Undressing with the eyeballs, verbal lashing him spice.

I speak the truth, I tell no lies.
Been masturbatin', since the forth of July.
Spill the beans, spill 'em all.
The precipitation filled Spring from Fall.

He didn't like faxes, he didn't like phones.
When he stood among many, he stands alone.
He loved his sausage, but shied from greens.
Used to spin his little sister in the washin' machine.

Reasonably touchable the slices of his earlier days,
For he was a superbed child...of the seventies!

George E Porge

All the time talkin' 'bout the insiration. Best leave off about the rhyme.
Along comes a boy, He's filled with adulation.
Specualtes if now is not the time.

She was known to take a drop or two in the morning.
Yesterdays and lazy days the same.
With collagen and fingernails and silicon adorning.
All the boys, they knew her by name.

Now he's a sport and she's a sport and al the world, they love a sport.
And if you've got the urge, we got the time.
Layin' on her side, it makes her melancholy.
She specualtes if now is not the time.

Now baby's breath and orchids are a lethal combination.
When you get that girl you got to go.
And finger pie in April leads to penetration....
But June, she's apt to take it kinda slow.

He's born in Beverly Hills, but raised in Albuquerque.
All the little girls, they thought him fine.
But George E. Porge, he'd kissed the girls and felt he'd rather kiss the boys.
And specualtes if now is not the time.

El Sobrante Fortnight

Brimming with all the hopes and desires of American youth,
He set forth as a leader of sorts.
Just what sorts it is impossible to say at this time.
But he had the imaginary support he needed to venture beyond the
Small enviornment he'd come to know as his home town.

Friends thought him foolish and felt free to frequently tell him so.
Deep down they all felt envy, Envious that he could muster, where they could not,
The courage that was necessary to embark beyond the motion that survival was based
Upon the ability to rise at seven a.m. five days a week.

He felt joy. And well he should. He was a "babe in the woods",
and a "kid in a candy store". All at the same time.
The world was his oyster and he planned to cover it with Tabasco, and slurp it
Down with his cake hole all within an "El Sobrante fortnight".

Definition of an "El Sobrante fortnight" is yet to be determined.
But reliable sources say the time to span is somewhere between two weeks and a decade.

Granny's Little Yard Gnome

Content to stand alone. Waiting, watching, guarding Granny's home.
His face reflecting simple joy, but he is not happy, Plaster Boy.
"Careful sonny, not too close, Unless you want a lethal dose of hardening...."
Patiently waiting for some shade, wishing he could run away.
Surpressing any urge to roam, such devotion from a little gnome.
I once saw a calico that thought he could fly.
And then the lanky Doberman that tinked in my eye.
A pacifist by nature, with amble common sense.
But if I had my druthers, I'd druther be a fence.
Now Granny, she's a good one, she shines me now and then.
And come around this springtime, I'm due for some paint again.
On keeping granny comfy, I try and earn my keep.
I'm just wishing I had some eyelids, so I could get some sleep.

Carolina Rig

What we gonna do today, is ya'll how to catch some 
fish on these Carolina Rig do nuttin' worms
And we gonna tell ya'll a lot about 'em and try to get ya fishin' with 'em
I got one right there!  Goly!  Dag gum!
Aw there he is right there.  Almost went right out the boat.
Right there I'll get it.  Alright.
Aw he's a baby though.  We'll throw him back and go over get another
But what I was trying to tell you people is we gonna do is show ya how 
to use these do nuttin' worms, show ya how to fish
I've fished these things for years...and there's a lot to fishing 
and lots of little tips ya need to know about.
Cause these ain't like the regular Texas rig
Ya gotta use the right rods and reels to throw it with
And today we're on Westport Lake, and...
But this rig right here, down here is just a little bitty.
I've fished this rig on every lake all over the southeast just about: 
Alabama, Mississippi, Tennesee, South Carolina.  It works 
on every lake I ever been on - it works real well. 
Lotta people ain't usin' them but ya can catch a lotta fish with em
With me today is Andy Dodson, he's a veteran tournament fisherman.
And a heck of a good fisherman that's why he's along here cause
And I know if I can't catch em, that man right there can
He's gonna catch all the bitties before they day is over
He'll do it time and time again
I've seen him do it, I KNOW he can do it!
What you think about that Andy?

I don't know man..

We gonna get em today, we gonna tear em up!

Tear em up...
Put a little smaller worm on yours and a little larger worm on mine
Yeah you got the fattest worm called a maggot, we got the same color but 
I've go the one that's smalller than that and I've caught what?  
Two small fish...

Uh you already caught fish I haven't.  They haven't touched mine yet.

We've been catching the bigger fish on the bigger worms.

We sure have. 

The Brown Album (1997)

The Return of Sathington Willoughby

Fellow colleges, distinguished members of the press, ladies and gentlemen
I would like to take this opportunity to personally and humbly thank each and every one of you
For joining us at this particular event
It is my hope that we can utilize this meeting of the minds
To successfully convey the essence of our platform to you,
A grand and noble audience

As I look out among the faces,
I reflect taking console in the words of Franklin Delano Roosevelt who said,
"We have nothing to fear but fear itself"
Paranoia is a disease unto itself, and may I add,
the person standing next to you,
May not be who they appear to be, so take precaution.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste, this is true
Many a young person has fallen prey, to the substances that alter
the perspective Of any right thinking individual
The Problem with the youth today is, because of their inexperience with the world
They cannot attempt to grasp the ideals, set forth by myself and those who preceded me
But, as history has shown, they will come around,
and embrace our philosophies And become model citizens in their own right,
God bless this great nation


They found James Ambrose dead in his cell
A gaping gash in his arm had drained him down to Hell
No one knew for sure if Ambrose was his name
They called him Yankee Sullivan in early days of fame
He'd known the game of fisticuffs had always treated him right
But no one knew the men who came and took his life that night

He'd spent some time in Botany Bay atoning for his sins
He fought a bout with Hammer Lane and took a tainted win
He was the hero of the Bowery, a prince of lawless times
Then was battered by the "Butcherman" in 1849
He knew the game of fisticuffs, he knew the game of might

But no one knew the men who came and took his life one night
He knew the game of fisticuffs
Lilly and McCoy were shy of a hundred and forty pounds
In 1842 they went a hundred and eighteen rounds
They begged McCoy to cash it in, he said that he would not
Got up and fought one more round then died right on the spot
He knew the game of fisticuffs, he knew the game of fight
But no one knew the game would come and take his life that night

Golden Boy

He was a mighty golden boy, as gold as ever seen
But when he stepped up to the podium, you could tell that boy was mean
His arms was made of nickel, and his forehead made of wood
An affidavit from the principal says,"This boy just ain't no good"
He stood before the union, and he made a solemn oath
Uphold the purity of his creed, the others he would toast
He worked nights at the liquor mart, and he drank to pad his pay
When he caught him liftin� 40's, he shot a boy last May
His momma asked why?
His lawyer in the courtroom, made a noble plea
And the judge he gave him eighteen months, but he was out in three
When asked if he ever felt remorse while sittin' up in that pen
He said "Hell no, ya know a thief's a thief
And I'd shoot that fucker again"

Over the Falls

They broke out in laughter again
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in
And he stood by and waited to be called
The talk was of times that�d gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry

As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls

He got up and tried it again
For lack of persistence is surely a sin
As he stood by and waited to be called
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for it's symmetry
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelor�s degree

As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls

Shake Hands with Beef

There's a time for lies
and a time for truth
I say, eye for an eye. Eye for a tooth.

When I roamed young.
I'd scavenge around
Every nook and cranny.
Of our little town
It's nice, so nice, to be .

Pull out the cannon boys
Steal us some wine
Puff Tijuana Smalls

She's so fine
She's so sweet
Mom and Pop they raised her
On huge slabs of meat

She's fine
A man of nine
Water derby day
Twenty six pumps
on a Crossman
And it's time to play
It's nice, so nice, to be

Pull out the cannon boys
Steal us some wine
Puff Tijuana Smalls

Camelback Cinema


He's standin' tall at 5 foot 4
With the sharpness of a troubadour
I dare you look him in the eye
His stench would make a buzzard cry

He likes Burt in White Lightning
Camelback Cinema

In the dark she sat and wait
For her steady random date
Reflecting back to a time
When eager boys would stand in line
She likes Burt in White Lightning
He's standin' tall at 5 foot 4
Lurking in the corridor
He came to buy his weekly whore
At Camelback Cinema

Hats off

When I was born, the doc he held me by my ankles
Smacked my red behind
They hosed me down, wrapped me like a bean burrito
Then marked the date and time

Hats off, to the ones that string the beads together
And keep the ducks in line
Hats off to all the ones that stood before me
And taught a fool to rhyme

At thirteen, I made myself a motion picture
Out of lumps of clay
At fourteen, I pulled some weeds and bought a four string
Taught myself to play
At seventeen, I'd get naked with a beauty queen
At the Hot Tub Zone
At nineteen, she was livin' hard and snortin' drugs
That decayed her bones

Hats off to the ones that put it all together
And keep their ducks in line
Hats off to all the ones that erred before me
And taught me how to survive

Puddin' Taine

Pass the pen there Billy Bob, I'll write us up a song
Or perhaps I'll pen a sonnet, if the melody sits all wrong

Hand me down a crayon, and I'll draw a mighty oak
'Cause of all my brother Masons, I'm the quickest with a joke

Catch me in the right light, you'll see my shape�s shaped to please
And if I shank my trousers down, I'm hung just above the knees

You may have difficulty catchin' breath, when you hear my weighty name
I'm the one that told you, told you so, they calls me Puddin' Taine

Now step on up to dance the dance, and touch the hand that heals
Like the tallest hog on Wall street, I'm a wheelin' all the deals

They'll carve my face in marble, they'll etch my name in stone
They'll paint my noble portrait, and historify my home

You may have difficulty catchin' breath, when you hear my weighty name
I'm the one that told you, told you so, they calls me Puddin' Taine

Bob's Party Time Lounge

Glad you came, glad you're here
Have some champagne, imported beer
Dig down in your dirt bag
And roll us out a spleef
Been erect here now for thirteen days
And I came to get relief
At Bob's Party Time

Pack my nose with cocaine
Feed my filthy hole
Bust out the dancin' women
I'm prone to lose control
And if by chance I fall down
And bust my head on the floor
Just wrap my wound in a porterhouse steak
And point me towards the shore
At Bob's Party Time

Duchess and the Proverbial Mind Spread

Burnin', I feel a burnin' in my stomach
I wanna' know if I'm a gonna� make it
If I don't just spread my ashes
If I do just spread your mind

Swimmin', I see myself a treadin' water
I see no signs of any other people
There's a heron up above me
I lay back and spread my mind

Duchess, she used to be a movie maker
She used to like to watch the boys watch her
And she saved enough money
To go to Cal and spread her mind

Billy, used to follow the Dead with Arnie
And they made a hundred thousand dollars
But ended up in federal prison
Twenty years for spreading minds

Restin' Bones

Came up on a worried man, asked him if he had a light
He reached on down, dug in his shoe, figured in his sock he might
He asked if he could come and join, at what we was partakin' in
I says,"Ol' soul if you got a match, you also got yourself a friend"

The smoke drew hard but laid in good, the neon gave us extra shine
We passed around a flask of Knockando, and a half litre bottle of wine
The worried man dropped down to his knees, and let out with a somber groan
He looked up to me and when I asked, he said,"I'm just restin' my bones"

I looked down at him, and him up at me, then a smile rose above his chin
He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me down, said,"Listen to me now my friend"
When I was your age I did it all, more than many men could do
now my possessions are the ones I wear on my back, and this lighter I keep in my shoe
That's why I'm restin' my bones

I'm restin' my bones for the times I fell, fell and hit myself on the ground
Restin' my bones for the loneliness, of being the only genius around
I'm restin' my bones for prosperity, in hopes that it'll do me some good
I'm restin' bones from amphetamines, see they turned teeth to balsa wood
I'm restin' bones for Johnny Cash, because for me and mine he's wearin' black
I'll be restin' my bones for Elvis, I seen him last week at the track
If I'm restin' bones and you come along, just try and tippy toe on by
Cause when I'm restin' bones I hope to sleep, and maybe slip away and die


I went down to Coddingtown To buy for Lucky Dog
Moved on up to Sono-co To clear my head of smog
People round town they all line up To buy them
Chevrolet's But me I talked to the Mopar man Been
talkin' now for days

I went down to Coddingtown It seemed the thing to do
You can get it all down there From tennis balls to glue
Standin' up in the ole smoke shop Met a girl named
Honey Pie If you shamble long enough You wanna' go,
you gotta' go

Bring me on back

Lordy, Lordy, Coddingtown That's the place to be
Lordy, Lordy, Coddingtown That's the place for me

I went down to Coddingtown And met old Santy Claus
Beanie Boy got a hold of that beard Nearly yanked it
from his jaws I stepped on up to the pizza man And
gobbled down some filth I shambled round now too
damn long I wanna' go, I gotta' go

Bring me on back

Lordy, Lordy, Coddingtown That's the place to be
Lordy, Lordy, Coddingtown That's the place for me


A B C D E F G H I gotta' gal wears her toenails long
Drives a red Barracuda, singin' meat packer songs
And she ain't from Kalamazoo

A B C D E F G H I gotta' friend lived in a Mercedes-Benz
Then a 55 Chrysler where the trunk never ends
And the plates say Kalamazoo

He had a steady job and watched what he spent
He'd say I don't believe in payin' no goddamn rent
I'll squirrel away every goddamn cent
And buy my own damn house in Kalamazoo

I knew a guy that mangled his hand
And he went from pipe fittin' to a hot dog stand
They say last year he cleared fifty grand
Selling dogs round Kalamazoo

She turned to the world with a bastard child
Said, "I just can't handle him he's too damn wild"
But the years and the liquor have made him mild
And he lays around Kalamazoo

The Chastizing of Renegade

There was this kid in our neighborhood, his Pop had named him Renegade.
He lived up to his name With all the trouble that he made.

One day ol' Renegade Snuck into the Park Theater downtown
For a laugh he set fire to the screen Burnt the whole damn place to the ground

He thought that no one would mind
He did that sort of thing all the time

But his Pop was waitin' for him

At age fifteen Renegade Stole a tow truck from Arnie's Shell
Drove it through the front of a hardware store, spent the night in a county jail

He didn't seem to mind a bit
He liked the attention he would get

His pop was waitin' for him


Go ahead fishbait...

The man he stepped up to the microphone and he gave it a kiss,
It was a big wet, slippery kiss
And he had sweat dripping off of his nose onto the windscreen.
As he looked out over the audience he said,
"God bless you, God bless you one and all"
Then he took a can of Ronson lighter fluid
and he squirted it over the top of his head
And proceeded to light himself on fire
As he stood there glowing and said,
"Remember this day"

Rhinoplasty (1998)

The Family and the Fishing Net

Suffocated by mirrors, stained by dreams.
The honey belly holds the seems.
the tiger skin.

Moist as grass, ripe and heavy is the night.
Sponge is full, well out of sight.
All around the converstaions
Icing on a warm fresh cake.

Light creeps though her secret tunnels.
Sucked into the open spaces.
Burning out in sun flashes.
Draining black from the well-lit faces.

Desire form in certain whispers,
Creaks the muscles in deniel.
Up and down it bristing cage
So the the music, so the child.

Boughs of sacrifice
Headless chickens.
Dance in circles.
Play the place.

Even as the soft skins tingle
They mingle with the homeless mother.
Loves the day, but lives another.
What once was hers.

The worried the father, long lost lover.
Brushes ashes with his broom.
Rehearses jokes to fly, and hover.
Resting over the bride and groom.
And the talk goes on.

Memories crash.
On tireless waves.
The lifeguards.
Whom the winter saves.

Silence falls.
The Gu

All the doors are shut.
Nervous hands grip tight

Til the cake is cut and passes around

The body, the body and the flesh.

The family, the family and the fishing net.
Another, another in the man.

The body and the flesh, and the flesh.

Amos Moses

Yeah! Here comes Amos!

Now Amos Moses was a cajun, he lived by his self in a swamp.
He hunted alligator for livin', he'd just knock em on the head with a stump.
The Louisiana law gonna getcha Amos, it ain't legal huntin alligator down in the swamp, boy.
Now everybody blamed his old man for makin' him mean as a snake.
When Amos Moses was a boy his daddy would use him for alligator bait.

Tie a rope around his waist, and throw him in the swamp.
Alligator man in the Louisiana bayou.

About 45 minutes southeast the tippy-toe of Louisiana,
Lived a man called Doc Milsap and his pretty wife Hannah,
Well they raised up a son that could eat up his weight in groceries,
Named him after a man of the cloth, called him Amos Moses.

Now the folks around south in Louisiana, said Amos was one hell of a man-a.
He could trap the biggest, the meanest alligator, and just use one hand.

That's all he got left cause the alligator bit it.
Left done gone clean up to the elbow!

Well the sheriff got of wind that Amos,
Was in the swamp trapping alligator skin.
So snuck he in the swap come and get the boy,
But he never come out again.

Well I wonder where the Louisiana sheriff went to?
You can sure get lost in the Louisiana bayou!

About 45 minutes southeast the tippy-toe of Louisiana,
Lived a cat called Doc Milsap and his pretty wife Hannah,
Well they raised up a son that could eat up his weight in groceries,
Named him after a man of the cloth, called him Amos Moses.

C'mon Amos, make it count son!

AntiPop (1999)

The Heckler

Through the door it slithers in, accompanied by its peers.
Always groveling for attention, while no one really hears.
In it mind it's full of wit, and quite the social king.
Plants itself among the rest, to give the deadly stain.

It's just a matter of opinion.

Further now there's a man of taste, of talent and precision.
To work and strive at his art form, has been his life's decision.
The stage is set, the perfect show is put before the mass.
Only to be ridiculed, by some slimy, pompous....

It's just a matter of opinion.

Poetry and Prose

I ain't one for poetry, aint' one for prose. Ain't one for the scent of a sping-time rose.
But the is one face that I do know, I sure get a kick out of that Beavis and Butt-head show.

Other day I turn my TV on, and guess what I do see?
Two crazy-ass cartoon sunsabitches staring on back at me.
Said "What the hell's this", and Ler said "Boy, dont' you know?"
The whole world's gone crazy over that there Beavis and Butt-head show.

Talk about couch fishing, now I could go for that.
I could go for frog baseball, but I be inclined to use a cat!
On Comedy, I'm a stooges man. I like Larry, Curly and Moe.
But now and then a get a chuckle watchin' the Beavis and Butt-head show.

Stone-Temple Pearlvana Chain, now there's a helluva band.
They got that original sound that's sweepin' 'cross the land.
Ain't no ZZ Top though, now that's the band for me.
If I had my way MTV'd play just them and AC/DC.

I ain't nothing special, I'm your average kinda man.
I like a frosted barley pop and I drink 'em outta the can!
I don't give a rat's ass about poetry and not a damn 'bout prose.
I sure get a kick outta them Beavis and Butt-head shows.

Butthead: "Hey Beavis..."
Beavis: "What?"
Butthead: "I was just like...thinking and was pretty cool."
Beavis: "Yeah, I'm gonna try that."
Butthead: "TV is cool..."
Beavis: "Yeah, yeah, TV rules! Yeah..."
Butthead: "Hey Beavis...I heard that pretty soon, they're gonna have, like, 500 channels.
That's gonna be cool."
Beavis: "Really? That would be cool."
Butthead: "You know what would be really cool, though? If like, one of the channels didn't suck."
Beavis: "Yeah, but, like, if one of them didn't suck, why would you need the
three hundred and twenty-seven?"
Butthead: "Because, you know all those TV shows that suck? It's like, you gotta put them
somewhere! You can't put 'em on the cool channel!"
Beavis: "Yeah, yeah! They should call it the cool channel!"

Purple Onion (2002)

Purple Onion

Purple onion, purple onion.
Purple onion, everybody laugh now. Purple onion everybody cry.
Purple onion lookin' down at B.O.B. when he crash his motorcycle and died.
Old Bob Zimmerman knew the purple onion, purple onion gave old' Bob five.
Purple onion yankin' like a freight train, shoot white tears up in the sky
Purple onion, a purple onion.

David Makalaster

I am David Makalaster, your 10 O'clock newscaster.
My lips are moving faster than my mind can comprehend.
I'm David Makalaster, your 10 O'clock newscaster.
Some call me Mr. mealy-mouth but think of me as friend.

If you believe the things I tell you I've a bridge or two to sell you.
And since I've cut my intake down my liver's on the mend.
'Cause I am David Makalaster, your 10 O'clock newscaster, good evening and here's what's new.

Isn't it awefully nice to live in a world where everything's exactly how it seems?
We live in a world where all you have to do is sit around and dream,
About the things that make you happy, about the things that make you smile
Sit back, relax, apathy's back in style.

Buzzards of Green Hill

Johnny come lately, all through the country
They come from the city, out here to Green Hill
Drivin' like bastards, stompin' the throttle
The Zuzzards of Green Hill grow fat on road kill.

Awww, little fuzzy wuzzy was a baby bear,
Little fuzzy wuzzy didn't have no hair.
Little fuzzy wuzzy wasn't fuzzy was here, but he didn't give a good hot damn.

Little Ruby had a purry kitty cat,
brother ran him off with a tee-ball bat.
Out on Green Hill the little kitty cat sat, till it met a '96 Dodge Ram.

Johnny come lately, all through the county
They come from the city, out here to Green Hill
Drivin' like bastard, stompin' the throttle
The Buzzards of Green Hill grow fat on road kill.

Old John Donovan was drinkin' late,
Took his car keys and he taunted fate.
Swervin' cross the Interstate, crashed a mother and her son cold dead.

Took John Donovan hucked him in jail,
He dipped in his wallter and posted bail.
Head back home before sunrise shine and slept in his very own bed.

This little piggy won't cast a stone,
That little piggy won't pick a bone,
But these little piggies don't stand alone when justice need to be fed.

Johnny come lately, all through the county
They come from the city, out here to Green Hill
Drivin' like bastard, stompin' the throttle
The Buzzards of Green Hill grow fat on road kill.

South Park Theme (Old Version)

Going out to South Park, gonna have myself a time.

Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation.

Going out to South Park, gonna leave my woes behind.

Ample parking day or night, people shouting "howdy neighbor!"

Heading on out to South Park, see as if I can't unwind.

I like girls with big vaginas, I like girls with big fat titties.

So come on out to South Park and meet some friends of mine.

South Park Theme (New Version)

I'm going down to South Park, gonna have myself a time.

Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation.

Going down to South Park, gonna leave my woes behind.

Ample parking day or night, people shouting "howdy neighbor!"

Heading on out to South Park, gonna see if I can't unwind.

I like girls with big vaginas, I like girls with big fat titties.

So come on down to South Park and meet some friends of mine.

Mephisto and Kevin

In 1986, the University of Californa at Davis
saw two of its all-time brightest stars, 
Dr. Alphonse Mephisto and Dr. Arnie Abesacraben.
Dr. Mephisto worked hard towards his thesis - his goal 
was to genetically duplicate the DNA structure of Asparagus, 
so that all Asparagus would grow to the same girth and length, 
Giving Asparagus a much more pleasent presentation in the world's 
supermarkter vegetable bins.  

Dr. Abesacraben's goal was to genetically create the greatest 
musical entertainer the world had ever seen. 
Dr. Abesacraben knew that if he could assemble the right elements, 
he could theoretically build a DNA structure that would ensure 
his creation had talent far surpassing the average individual.

At the time, one subject of urban myth was the story that 
Michael Jackson - in an effort to maintain his youthful look and 
feminie vocal characteristics - had his testicles surgically removed, 
thereby making him a modern-day castrato.  

If such a rumor were true, Michael Jackson more that likely would have 
had some of his semen preserved before the surgery, to ensure his the 
future of his name and lineage.  

Word came back to Dr. Abesacraben of a secret cold storage locker
deep within the bowels of the UCLA research center, that not only 
contained four containers of frozen semen, but also held a pair of 
testicles, each was labeled with the name "Jack Michaelson".
I once heard a noise,
In the night the most sensual voice.
Song of love from a eight year-old boy,
Stuck in my head.
And this is what he said:

I am gopher boy!
Pondering reality!
I am gopher boy!
Who will buy my raspberries?
This had to be the seed of the king of pop!
Dr. Abesacraben was able to use his charm and and chissled Greek
feature to woo a young lab technician by the name of Jennifer, who of 
course happened to have the proper access needed to obtain a small vial 
of the precious semen.  

The search for the egg was a short one - Dr. Mephisto simply ran an ad 
in the classified section of an airline music magazine.  The ad read: 
"Wanted: unfertilized human eggs for genetic experiment.  Donors must 
have musical background."  With a pleathera of young, eager wanna-be 
music starlets willing to sell their eggs, the two doctors - after
auditioning - picked... and purchased.  

Dr. Abesacraben felt that it would be far less complicated legally if the 
fetus were brought to term in the womb of a non-human.  He had long since 
secured the services of the University volleyball mascot, a llama by the
name of "Missy".  
When the baby was ready, the child via cesarean.  It was a healthy baby 
boy; he was named Kevin.  
I once heard a noise,
In the night the most sensual voice.
Song of love from a eight year-old boy,
Stuck in my head.
And this is what he said:

I am gopher boy!
Pondering reality!
I am gopher boy!
Who will buy my raspberries?
Kevin was a beautiful child.  Dr. Abesacraben saw to it that Kevin was
trained by the best in all aspects of performing.  His voice was golden, and had a
sweetness to it that most males lacked.  He moved with grace, and was able to
moonwalk by the time he was three.  As Kevin grew in his talent, Dr. Abesacraben
started noticing odd developments in his physical state.  When Kevin lost his baby 
teeth, his secondaries came in with a vengance! They were at least twice
the size of a normal adult's, and the two in front stuck nearly straight out.  Also
as Kevin reached his eighth year, he was the same as the was when he was four.  To
top it off, he was growing hair all over and his penis was enormous, even by adult
It also dawned on the doctor that even trough all the years of hearing Kevin sing, 
he rarely spoke, often choosing to communicate with various grunt and gurgles.
I once heard a noise,
In the night the most sensual voice.
Song of love from a eight year-old boy,
Stuck in my head.
And this is what he said:

I am gopher boy!
Pondering reality!
I am gopher boy!
Who will buy my raspberries?
Others were noticing the changes in Kevin.  Children began to tease him - to call him "Gopher Boy".  
One day a bully by the name of "Big Roy" started throwing bananas at him.  
Soon a crowd of kids were all throwing bananas.  
Suddenly, in a fury, Kevin rushed at Big Roy and bit three finger fingers off on his left hand.  
Kevin was taken away and placed in the custody of the state.  
Dr. Abesacraben's actions were found out, but because there was no legislation 
concerning the genetic instruction of a human being, no criminal charges were brought forth.  
The medical association's board of ethics stripped him of all his creditials, and his reputation was ruined.  
In fact, his name became to synonmous with failure, that for years to come, 
Medical students around the world were known to say in times of mishaps, 
"Damn, I feel just like Abesacraben".  

Dr. Mephisto immediately began procedings to adopt little Kevin.  
Being a noted scientist and the creator of the cloned Asparagus, 
it wasn't long before the two were legally united as father and son.  
They moved to Colorado where they live in relative obscurity.  
Kevin is still a boy of few spoken words, sticking mainly to his grunts and gurgles.  
But on occasion, if you listen closely, 
you can hear his sweet golden signing voice ring out into the night over the town of South Park:  
I am gopher boy,
Pondering reality.
I am gopher boy,
Who will buy my raspberries?

The Ballad of Buckethead

"Who's this guitar-playing sonsa bitch?", is a question common asked.
On his head a bucket of chicken bones, on his face a plaster mask.
He's the bastard son of a preacher man, on the town he left a stain.
They made him live in a chicken house to try to and hide the shame.

He was born in a coop, raised in a cage. Children fear him, critics rage.
He's half alive, he's half dead. Folks just call him Buckethead.

Farmers would torment him as he snuggled with the hens.
They'd hose him down with water, and steal his little friends.
Now late at night he'd sneak off to the graveyard all alone,
And play a soapbox guitar to the faces made of stone.

Buckethead found his freedom at the age of 17,
when he burned the chicked house down with a quart of gasoline.
He did puppet shows on corners and bought a real guitar,
And with the help of Colonel Sanders, he's bound to be a star.

He was born in a coop, raised in a cage. Children fear him, critics rage.
He's half alive, he's half dead. Folks just call him Buckethead.