SOME LYRICS

100 Monkeys Typing

In response to your advertisement, all over the airwaves,
Yeah, I could breed on standing water
and I wouldn’t be seething in the supermarket glare
we could be french-kissing while the butcher stocks the pork ribs
O baby-lou baby-lou, I’d rubber-lip your urgent thoughts
O baby-lou baby-lou, I’m thinking about making love with you
when we both get a little more time on our hands
’cause you’re the 5th line on the eye chart
& you’re a hundred monkeys typing
you’re a hundred monkeys typing on the bottom of my heart.

I might even stop talking without somebody yelling shut up
might consider getting my tape machine fixed
I might stay awake til it’s dark
or try & get my windshield washer fluid squirters to work
(if I can find the parts)
O baby-lou baby-lou, I’m thinking about making love with you
when we both get a little more time on our hands
’cause you’re the 5th line on the eye chart
& you’re a hundred monkeys typing
you’re a hundred monkeys typing on the bottom of my heart.

Baby-lou baby-lou
[heeba hobba hobo bumbaway yah! etc.]

and the vultures turn into butterflies
and the roadkill starts to stink real bad but I don’t mind

’cause baby-lou baby lou
you’re the 5th line on the eye chart
and you’re a hundred monkeys typing
on the bottom of my heart

St. Peter’s Alleyway

the song I’m about to do gave me some trouble & problems in the past.
First time I tried, it was perfect, you shoulda heard, but I sang the wrong words.
Almost went along with it but I couldn’t get over.
Next time I tried I got the lyrics right but the music was stilted.
And if there’s one thing I remember, I was just a little embryo in my mother’s womb thinking; “This time around”, cause I’m reincarnated, “This time around nothing’s gonna be stilted or miffed, close-encountered or negligent.” So I tried it again with a rabble-rousey bent but it came out lousy. Wasn’t swimmy;
so I ditched it. I kept switching it and ditching, ditching and switching, finally decided “cut the pretext, put it in context”, how’d that be?

A drunkard’s game is a waiting damn game
waiting for the world to change & bring me back
my girl; bring me back my future and my name.
I stand out in the road waiting for the neon sign to
light up the window. / Then I’ll say good nite to
this woeful clay and tomorrow the bells will ring,
bombs’ll blow off & the cops’ll put a lock on my
door. & the neighbors explain he don’t live here,
he don’t live anywhere anymore.

So many times thru so thick and such thin, no going around again; no going back to where it’s been; it’s just alienated, annexed, appendixed & ostracized. Mr. Johnny Problems was screwing around with this verse too, you know, apparelling the globe-but then he opens the worried door. Pandora & Dionysus walking around behind the wal-mart hand in hand.

St. Peter’s alleyway – strewn with broken empties
and cast away pieces of cars
& evidence quickly tossed
quickly tossed out of back doors of bars.
And your passage thru there’s not a leisurely stroll
when you’ve lost most your motor control
and your judgement’s on hold
and the shoes of your soul are ravaged by your dead soldiers

Always Some Animal

What are you looking at? That’s right, I’m a human. You never saw a human before? Or you just get your Kicks looking at humans? What are you—- some kind of Human Freak?
Ever try saying “wipe-o-galistikofph” without opening your mouth?
Of Course Not; You’re An ANIMAL! (DDDD)

(G-Em-G-Em-C-Am-D kind of)
Wherever you go, and whatever you do-
baby, when you go to the zoo, remember; you’re in there too.
It could be a bug or made into a rug.
With eyes in it’s head, it could even be dead,
or just a photograph instead.
(C-D-G) There’s always some animal looking at you
In your moment of doubt, a mouse might be checking you out;
watching your mouth, waiting for breadcrumbs to fall out.
And when you’re driving your car, you’re just like a bug in a jar.
There’s an armadillo in the street ’cause you’re the kind of person it would like to meet. AND EVERYTHING I SAY IS TRUE
There’s always some animal looking at you

An iguana was hunkering down
hunched up on some crenelated books.
Movement caught it’s attention. It was an Iberian librarian.
Ugly lady. one eye blue, one eye brown like an Iberian husky.
She looks up. Looks at the iguana, looking at her, looking at it, looking at her, looking at it- thinks to herself;
there’s always some animal looking at you
And I don’t know if it’s a male or a female but the iguana’s
thinking;
there’s always some animal- looking at you.

Fine Amnesia

O, Ransack Claverack Jones got a little drunk &
started throwing his beer around, losing his temperament,
blaming the federal government;
brewing up charges in the wrongful death of his son.
Said he was looking at a fine career in spectral microscopy
and how he was the brains of the family,
working his way thru the university
til they blasted him out of the family tree.

And his buddies said have another round of this
fine amnesia. Til you clear your name, Jones,
you’ll be talking treason. Like the good book says
for everything there’s a season.
Then another accident could happen in turn, turn, turn.

That’s right! To make matters worse, they’re calling him a criminal.
I hate it when them bastards start getting subliminal.
Sitting up there acting like they can do no wrong;
I’m gonna take that G-man out in a blaze of glory,
C’mon boys, who’s gonna come along?

And the boys said “Have another round of this fine amnesia, just like last nite & the nite before, pass out on the barroom floor; We’ll carry you to your door & someone’ll come by in the morning.”

Now here’s the rest of the story. Ransack C. Jones was paralyzed from the neck down by shrapnel in world war 2. His wife, Happy Birthday Singalong Jones, died giving birth to their only child, Featherhead, leaving no one to care for the youth. The welfare board kept trying to take the child away but thanks to the kindness of the hillfolk, who did the chores, chopped wood in the winter to keep them warm, Ransack was able to teach the boy- how to hunt, fish, basically how to get long even he himself couldn’t even hold a book. And O, how proud all the neighbors were when their Featherhead decided on the field of spectral microscopy!

But… Have another round of this fine amnesia.
It’s all we’ve got now to remember Featherhead by.
Won’t be long til the barrel goes dry;
then we can all have a real good cry.

Arouse The Thunder
C
They call her Miss Divisive on the street.
She put the spit in hospitality
Strandy hair parted around the ears
under her sweater’s a purple chiffon brassiere
F G
She turns me on flips me off
E Am
she’s not a hag puts me in a vacuum cleaner bag
F E
whips it out plugs it in
F G G
hits the switch and I hear the roar
C G G7
she could surely arouse the thunder
C
of the mighty Thor.
Her poppa was a no count swingin single
hooked his thumb in her momma’s waistband.
The shine on her shoulder never used her education.
Her legs belong in the museum of erotic transportation.
CHORUS
A little wild around the edges,
wearing a uniform, pushing a stroller full of fried chicken,
she takes some downs to reach out & touch the future
& me, I’m smelling something I’d like to stick my ribs to-
Campbell’s Soup/ She never wash the clothes she wear.
CHORUS

Artist’s Statement

I am very artistic in my ideas
with regard especially to the degree of artism I achieve
painstakingly in the many aspects of my work.
And I believe it is the duty of the truely creative individual
to give of that very individuality
unto the spirit of creativity as a hirsute and glabrous whole.

But I don’t remember what I sent to you..
or how it went to you,
and I’m hoping that you don’t resent it
but baby baby baby uh bay bayba bayba
I said a oo ah oo ah ah oo ah oo ah c’mon,
uh uh uh uh a’uh uh uh uh oh yeah
is what I meant to present to you
as my artist’s statement

My work is a celebration of the uniqueness of diversity
in the human condition
while maintaining grave concern about the plight of our ecology as such.
And meanwhile in the mind’s eye, a fleeting glimpse
of the eternal impermanence of infinity
and the cyclical implications ventured,
texturally distinct yet rendered subtly and playfully therein.

But I don’t remember what I sent to you..
or how it went to you,
and I’m hoping that you don’t resent it
but baby baby baby uh bay bayba bayba
I said a oo ah oo ah ah oo ah oo ah c’mon,
uh uh uh uh a’uh uh uh uh oh yeah
is what I meant to present to you
as my artist’s statement.

My Clock Stops
© LaBonne ’90

Walked in to my shed ugh, smelled like one of my tools died. (maybe the router died.)
I was thinking 10-1 it was the pitchfork bit the dust but it was still stickin with it.
(maybe yer turnbuckle croaked.) Checked the miter box, it was still kicking. Block & tackle’s still hanging in there.
(maybe the router died.)

I won’t know what’s gone until I need it.
Now I’m hoping I don’t need it.

And my clock stops when I look at it,
so I don’t look at it.

Maybe it’s my O.D.F. my own damn fault my car got stolen in
alphebet city. I always parked it there cause although it meant 2 walks across town
(maybe y’oughta get it outa there)
there was always a spot where it could stay for days and days, or at least until I needed it.

Now I’m hoping I don’t need it.(maybe y’oughta get it outa there)

And my clock stops when I look at it so I don’t look at it.

My friend Pete’s embarrassed to have me on his song but if it wasn’t for my 50% of the writin’ of it,
it wouldn’t be worth the gettin’ of it down. So we’ll see. I’ll just be stayin’ up on the woodlot chug a luggin’ whiskey out of a water jug with a couple of my own buddies.

My clock stops when I look at it, so I don’t look.

Clouds are Overspreading

I sleep with you in the ICU
you got a bullet in your head but you’re not dead
O baby why’d you have to go ahead & shoot yourself
when you could have shot your problems instead

The rain arrives, the thunder is wild and the wind is high.
But above the clouds the sun still shines,
and beyond the sun, the stars are bright
and beyond the stars, I won’t be coming home tonight.
It’s just something to remember yourself by;
Clouds are overspreading the region.

These prices are so doctored, they make wanna throw a meathook
like who am I kidding who, you know?
I think someone tampered with my prozac, baby,
’cause the future’s whipping me in the face way too fast to
assimilate.

The rain arrives, the thunder is wild and the wind is high.
But above the clouds the sun still shines,
and beyond the sun, the stars are bright
and beyond the stars, I won’t be coming home tonight.
It’s just something to remember yourself by;
Clouds are overspreading the region.

O, what was I thinking? How would I know, I’m you, oh right.
Get your temperature stickers here!
Continuous digital read-out, all your vital signs!
Controlled substance alert right there on your forehead!
New York; Just like I pictured it!

The rain arrives, the thunder is wild and the wind is high.
But above the clouds the sun still shines,
and beyond the sun, the stars are bright
and beyond the stars, I won’t be coming home tonight.
It’s just something to remember yourself by;
Clouds are overspreading the region.

Crucible Of The Chaldeans

take my hat & glove
take off my hat & glove
and that glove; don’t start sticking it in your heart.
it’s just a glove
and your heart is like a towel
with a solemn fluctuation
your heart is like a towel
wiping up blood

it’s the ultimate communion
and it’s always in the way
even in a plastic tub
pounding down the fort
manning the phone
or a lion on the moon
or sleeping in a dream with the lid on

hung around & hung around
river kept rising
rising up jack knives
jack knives and fish tails
hung around & hung around
& the bread keeps rising
gotta pound it down
pound it down & grind a pound
what a splendor in the grass to be in
surprisingly alive
hanging around
the crucible of the Chaldeans

This Delinquent Clock Is Not A Toy

… brandish my prenatal albatross
cover my departure from the real.
It’s more like a bombed-out husk;
not hospitable to my life-form
or the way that I feel.
Talking to the roof,
push and shove it from above it.
Poised to sproing
gotta eat what’s left of this messy coin.

I’m Coughing the Cough
staggering around
Got a sophisticated cough
Sky goes by my psychotic cottage.
On a fait quit fooling around
with the hands of time.
This delinquent clock is not a toy.

SOUND OF DOOM

WHAT’S THAT SOUND?
it’s the sound of a
Rumble in the ground
tree falling down
mushroom cloud
it’s the sound of imminent disaster
it’s the sound of doom

WHAT’S THAT SOUND?
it’s the sound of an aggressive market
creative leadership
conversation before coffee
it’s the sound of imminent disaster
it’s the sound of doom

WHAT’S THAT SOUND?
it’s the sound of convenient packaging
desirable property
excercise products
it’s the sound of imminent disaster
it’s the sound of doom

WHAT’S THAT SOUND?
it’s the sound of an
elephant stampede
tidal wave hitting the beach
trapeze out of reach
it’s the sound of imminent disaster
it’s the sound of doom

WHAT’S THAT SOUND?
it’s the sound of
winning with 5 aces
high speed chase
baseball in the face
it’s the sound of, it’sthe sound
of imminent disaster it’s the sound of doom

Supermarket Employee

(A,F#m,E,D)(1st verse solo)

I am supermarket employee
waiting in the check-out line
with my snack.
And I don’t understand
why they just don’t
give it to me for free.

band enter at 2nd “with my snack”
2nd verse add call/answer vocals
3rd verse starts “I am supe” 1X, 2X, 3X
end 3rd verse goofing around w/Vegas endings
solo [D]patiently, [E]like a jerk….
with my… (enter like before)
…SNACK
Yeah, with my snack
“I am supe” 1X, 2X, 3X

Featherhead Jones

Featherhead Jones. Lives his life to make folks laugh,
walk a mile to make you smile
Featherhead Jones
There’s a big house over by the railroad tracks
Featherhead Jones has a shack in the back
with pea-vines growing around the window sill
& revenuers looking for the whiskey still.
And Featherhead Jones.
Shouting hi ho Featherhead we know you’re hiding
in the whiskey shed. We’re the agents of the government;
to bring you in is why we’re sent.
Featherhead Jones. lives his life to make folks laugh
walk a mile to make you smile
Featherhead Jones
Featherhead Jones was hiding in a tree
bearing down with his 30 aught 3.
But he blew his cover ’cause he had to sneeze.
And a revenuer looked up into the leaves shouting
“Hi ho Featherhead! I see you hiding in the apple tree.
Please be good and come along with me.
Pay the fine and you’ll go free.”
Featherhead Jones. lives his life to make folks laugh
walk a mile to make you smile
Featherhead Jones
Tried to inch up a little bit higher
but he snagged the gun on a piece of barbed wire
accidentally that old Weatherby fired
into federal agent McIntyre shouting
“Hi ho Featherhead, here’s my pistol and a piece of lead.
On this slug there is a name; yours and it are both the same.
Featherhead Jones.”
Lived his life to make folks laugh,
hit the ground without a sound.

Feeder Canal

E
Gonna cause a lot of damage/ utilize our heritage at the feeder
canal
gonna chuck a rock in a lock and broil with the charcoal grill.

E (short go) E (line) G (line) E A E
oh yeah! at the feeder canal

Gonna write our names on everything like we never get enough
of that John Hancock stuff.
gonna get a hoot & yell surprise when we find the problems
we’ve been looking for.

E (short go) E (line) G (line) E A E
oh yeah! at the feeder canal

Peruse a couple volumes of Heroditus in the moonlight,
precipitate world crisis with a case and a half of Shlitzers,
utilize our heritage. (solo on E/ ending w.EE-BAEE)

E (short go) E (line) G (line) E A E
oh yeah! at the feeder canal
A E
oh yeah! at the feeder canal
EEE EEE EEE

FINISHING NAILS
© LaBonne ’95

one thing I always wondered what would happen- If Dracula gave Frankenstein a nickel and said hey suck my pickle then frankenstein pulled up in a car and yelled vampires bite my bar and they got into a rumble, who would win? (voice choice)
Think again. (voice choice)

one thing I always wondered what would happen-
if Greenpeace was watching Monsanto from space- saw mso. dumping toxic waste, Greenpeace told ’em not to & Monsanto said ok we’ll just sell it to you as bug spray who would win? (voice) Think again

How can you have common belief among you? (E7 Am E7 Am D G D G)
Theories concepts & facts all tippin the scales? Maneuvering thru the curb mazes in the parking lot- torn & draggled in a river of used finishing nails.

one thing I always wondered what would happen
If a gila monster was biting a skeleton- skeleton came back to life and was mad, said what you think you’re doing? Get the hell off me you asshole, then they started to wrestle, who would win?

If Zorro was reincarnated as a swordfish, saw JFK clinging to pt 109- wanted to slash in a Z before the rain forest was history but JFK pulled a blockade, now who would win? (think again)

How can you have common belief among you (E7 Am E7 Am D G D G)
Theories concepts & facts all tippin the scales? Maneuvering thru the curb mazes in the parking lot- torn & draggled in a river of used finishing nails.

Just for the sake of arguement let’s assume you have a backroom full of cigars, betting & whiskey
In one corner you have a time bomb, another corner you have an electric chair- which contestant’s
gonna walk outa there- let’s put it this way Who would win?
How can you have common belief (E7 Am E7 Am D G D G)
Theories concepts & facts all tippin the scales? Maneuvering thru the curb mazes in the parking lot- torn & draggled in a river of used finishing nails.

Fry Your Brain Off
© LaBonne 1989

(intro)
B B
every one is in the mood, we’re feeling like we should
B B B E B
there’s music in the air it’s a wild atmosphere come on come on
F# E B
blow the train off shake the strain off just fry your brain off ——-

B B
– you don’t have to go I know you want some more
B B B E B
your folks are out of town baby you can hang around come on come on
F# E B
blow the train off shake the strain off just fry your brain off
(solo?)
B B
the radio is loud and it’s charging up the crowd
B B B E B
it’s getting onto dawn baby we can Mow The Lawn come on come on
F# E B
blow the train off shake the strain off just fry your brain off F# E B
blow the train off shake the strain off just fry your brain off

Code Of The Great Outdoors

Granpere told T-Bo one of these days all this land is gonna be yours.
T-Bo said Granpere, you tell me 3 times what I want this for.
Granpere said
It’s the code of the great outdoors
better out, better out, better out than in
T-Bo ask granpere, why did you come to this country?
What you think this place’ll be like in the 21st century?
Granpere said here’s a half of a Plymouthand a piece of a Dodge.
You can have em and make em run
if you put a new roof on my garage.
And T-Bo said
It’s the code of the great outdoors
better out, better out, better out than in
better out, better out, better out than in
T-Bo’s got a landlady. He’s making his payments in town.
Whenever he’s a little late
her husband comes to push T-Bo around.
Saying better an empty house than a hick tenant of a clown.
Pack your trash & leave here, T-Bo. You’re taking the hard way down.
It’s the code of the great outdoors
better out, better out, better out than in
T-Bo smashed a plate ‘cause he was mad at that man.
And the pieces of the plate told T-Bo
“we got friends now, we’ll no longer be on hand.”
T-Bo threw the scrap into the garbage can.
It’s the code of the great outdoors
Better out, Better out, Better out than in.

Forego The Knavery

T-Bo said hey nice convertible,Granpere, makes me feel like a Mexican jumping bean.
Granpere said sit down, get your feet off the seat and tell me what is 6 plus 3.
Well I got an A in ‘6’ but a D in ‘3’, so that would be like a 75.
O.K. then T-Bo we got 75 beers to get us to Detroit.
Take a look in the back. See how’s that Mic-Mac.
Check and make sure he’s still breathing. I don’t wanna be driving a corpse thru customs.
No T-Bo said, no Granpere he just lost a little hair.
Hey look, there’s two girls hitch-hiking they look like Mic-Macs too,
maybe they could be his wife and daughter, special niece, or girlfriend.
You’re right T-Bo, maybe one of ‘em is a nurse and has some bandages or alcohol in her purse.
I don’t think I got any more than ten of those 75 beers that are gone.
And T-Bo said,

Forego the knavery.
Get on with some proper behavior.
It says right here my wacky Granpere
should not drink too much of my beer.

The customs man took a look at the lump under the Hudson Bay
in the backseat sandwiched between the two panicky Indian maidens.
Granpere told the guy, hey these two girls have agreed to do my laundry
but they said it was such a mess they wanted to do it in the U.S.
Well, the scales of American justice were looming ominously over the fits
& starts & squeaks & squawks & wisecracks of Granpere & T-Bo.
So T-Bo faked a let, Granpere smirked. And the Mic-Mac rustled in his coma.
The two Iroquois girls were nervous as hell. They’d heard bad things about the Michigan jails.
T-Bo started feeling again like he was a Mexican jumping bean
& Granpere was slapping his pockets wondering what happened to his keys.
And the judge told him,

Forego the knavery.
Get on with some proper behavior.
You crazy mavens, you don’t appreciate
the gravity of your situation.

You’re charged with operating an unsafe vehicle, DWI, with no license
and having a grandson with no sense.
Transporting female minors across an international boundary
and neglecting the wounds of an injured man looks like he got his head crushed in a foundry.
Granpere said I know it looks bad. Because we’re pros. All big stars incognito.
We somehow lost our filming crew. We’re making a movie for Hollywood.
The judge said oh well then case dismissed. I hope you weren’t inconvenienced by this.
Me and De Laurentis are real good friends. Let me know if we can make amends.
And T-Bo said Yeah, you bastard!

Forego the knavery.
And get on with some proper behavior.
You’re sitting up there on that bench
acting like you’re the savior.

Gunning It In Neutral

Poor T-Bo cracked up.
And got sent to the funny farm.
Granpere came to visit and gave T-Bo
a chocolate cake with a hacksaw baked in it.
He kept the car going over by Shoe Town.
Came back and waited for T-Bo to escape out of there.
While T-Bo’s making complex sentences to people who aren’t there,
Granpere’s gunning it in neutral.
Granpere’s got The Amazing Rhythm Aces on the tape deck.
And he’s leafing thru the Book Of Mormon
when T-Bo goose steps up with a cowboy hat on sideways
& says shove over gramps for Napoleon The Googleplex.
While Granpere’s opening the window to get some air
Napoleon is gunning it in neutral.
So T-Bo got out and now he’s got himself a big problem.
He’s gotta live and die according to the Master Plan.
[Is he gonna write a book, and settle down,
with a looking woman who can cook?]
No! T-Bo’s taking Granpere’s Lincoln to the demolition derby.
He’s gonna win a hundred dollars and make a big name for himself.
All his family will be proud when they’re handing him the trophy.
[Cause T-Bo wanna do good?
Like he know he should?]
No! T-Bo’s a crazy fuckin’ maniac.
[Is he cool enough with his name
on a plaque to keep his arms
out of the straight-jacket?]
No! T-Bo’s a crazy fuckin’ maniac.

Shotgun

T-Bo got a shotgun.
Said c’mon granpere, let’s go have some fun.
Lined the bead up on the neighbor’s dog
pulled the trigger and there’s one dog gone.
And granpere said

T-Bo tu est fou.
Why’d you have to shoot?
You’re wasting all the ammo.
Let’s go shoot some anglos in Ontario.

They picked up a Mic-Mac with a jacknife hitch-hiking outside of Maniwaki.
Said I’m going down to Ottawa play some hockey.
I got razor skates and my stick in a bag.
I’m the best there is. All fact. No brag.
Granpere said “I wish this Lincoln had some doors.
Sure gets cold with my pedal thru the floor.”

And T-Bo said, Granpere, tu est fou.
Why you have to injure me?
You know I had to win the derby.
A big auto star one day will go far.
Yeah, but T-Bo, in My new car?

The Mic-Mac said yeah,
I was just thinkin’ ’bout this Lincoln.
See that semi just pulled onto the road
skiddin’ sideways with a heavy load of swingin’ beef?
Well I was just wondering about your brakes, cause that truck
don’t look like it’s gonna make it.
T-Bo remembered something he heard in a movie.
Brakes? We don’t need no Stinkin Brakes!
Granpere laughed and laughed and laughed
and plowed into the semi.

He was saying T-Bo tu est fou.
Look what you made me do.
You and the funny joke ruined my concentration.
Bullwinkle hokey smoke!
This Mic-Mac needs hospitalization.
Alright let’s go.

Wine Maketh Glad

Sweet young thing come out from under 4 layers of bearskins.
Lithe and nubile; got everything uncle Screaming Eagle needs.
She’s getting kind of exuberant about
swimming at G.T.O. beach with T-Bo.
She’s doing the backstroke.
T-Bo’s ears are blowing out smoke rings.
Greased up little Indian girl’s something T-Bo’s never seen.

Wine maketh glad the heart of man
You put the liquor in the ticker
& see the fool rush in

Meanwhile, the Mic-Mac’s coming around.
Looks over at Granpere and says
Where’s my skates and my hockey stick?
Granpere nudged T-Bo and said
Maybe time to call Vito Laurentian
& get this Mic-Mac a star role in a snuff flick.
But T-Bo was having his own little problem.

Wine maketh glad the heart of man
but Injun girl makum trouble
for pale face seeing double.

T-Bo was thinking. In cave man days where she comes from
she would want me to hit her over the head with a club
but here on the West Coast,
she would probably want me to turn her onto some smoke.
So T-Bo lit a fire and threw on some wet logs.
Cause that’s what smoke is to these North Canadian Frogs.
Beach patrol came by and threw T-Bo in jail.
& Granpere hit the Mic-Mac over the head with a sand pail.

Wine maketh glad the heart of man.
But if you don’t get any slack
you gotta put out some flack.

Granpere called Laurentis
and made a deal for the Mic-Mac
Wine maketh glad the heart of man.

I Don’t Wanna Get High © LaBonne 2000

C G C G C.
C G
I don’t wanna get high. I don’t need to lose my blues in booze.
G C F C (stop)
No one needs to know why- except that it makes me feel like I’m gonna die.
C G7
I’m gonna stay dry. Least it says here that I’m gonna give it a try.
G7 C F C
A regular straight up guy, I don’t wanna get high.

FFFF FFFF FFFF etc CCCC CCCC CCCCCCCCCC
You can bring it over; like if you wanna get a load on
D D G G7 G/aug
but every time you do, remember, I won’t be getting a load on with you—-

D A
I don’t wanna get high. I don’t wanna be the kind of guy your kids can idolize.
A D G D- [C Am Dm G pattern]
A regular straight up guy, I don’t wanna get high.

C Am Dm G C Am Dm G
[You wanna get high high high- don’t you wanna get high] NO! (4X)
C C C C G G C &- C C
High high high- – high high high high high high high high,

G7 C
. high high high high high high high- -high high high, high high high high high- –
C C G7
High high high- – high high high high high high high high– high high high high high high
C G7 C G7 C
high high- – . high high high, high high high high high high high high high high high high
G7 C G7
high high high – OH, (repeat section)

Honey, Let’s Get Poor E

Let me touch your hand
let me touch your hand as hard as I can.
Make the bad vibes go away
less is less; what less can I say?
together we can make a difference
at least until the ruphinol kicks in

(ninna ninna nih)

I’m taking you out for pizza in my mind
when the waitress comes
finally gets around to taking our order you’ll say
hey baby, let me save you some time

just bring me a big ole jug
of some of that rotgut moonshine likker
Honey, let’s get poor.
I don’t wanna be rich any more

l’emme touch your hand
l’emme touch your hand as hard as I can
out all nite, tagging along behind a bad crowd
got nothing uncle John needs

Honey, let’s get poor.
Just bring me a big ole jug
some of that rotgut moonshine likker

I’m Blown (G/Em/C/D)

I’m blown, I’m blown, I’m blown
hard earned
& dog eared
totally carboned out
my forebears are splayed onto their gizmos
I know what it’s like, I know what it’s like to be a spider
it’s hard earned, and dog eared
busily, busily, busily puffin’ po
I’m blown
baby, I’m blown

You don’t know what it’s like to be a spider.
I do.
Maybe you know what it’s like to be afraid
of a little tiny spider you can barely see.
And if it bit me? (which it won’t)
I’d be going “ha, ha, ha, that tickles.
ha, ha, ha, quit tickling me.”
You’d be going, “ow, ow, ow, ow.”
Probably be in the hospital trying to croak.

I’m blown
baby, baby, baby, I’m blown
I’m blown. Carboned out,
carboned out,
watch me ride
I’m blown.

I’m Falling Apart (E)

One day I threw my hip
another day I let my backbone slip
bit my lip while choking on a corn chip
stuck in my post-nasal drip

I’m falling apart (A/E/A/G)
I’m falling apart
I’m falling apart

A while ago I lost my thing
I didn’t even know it til it gave me a ring
called me on the phone
frightened and alone
wanted to come home
I’m falling apart 3x
Starting to lose my sight
I don’t know when but my hair turned white
drive in the daytime that’s all right
just can’t focus at night

I’m falling apart 3x

gack a gack gack gack yeah/ no

I’m falling apart 3x

Before it rains my ribs go nuts
I got a big mole on my butt
My face got blossom spots
Too many eggs goof up my guts

I’m falling apart 3x
I’m falling apart 2x
lead etc. whatever.

I’m Sad
(Em)

I know this low-slung hispanic woman from Hispaniola, no lie.
Hispaniola like I told ya. Female dweeb from the Caribe.
And I licked her like a dog. I kept licking her and licking her,
like “How far’s he gonna go with this?” Until it resolves.
Looks like I licked her til her hair dissolved.
Now looky there. She ain’t got no hair. (Em)
And it troubled yours truly.
Troubled me deep into my metaphysically unexamined soul.
So I went out to the curb and climbed into a refrigerator.
And the next time you want a devilled egg and olive loaf sandwich,
I’ll be in there chillin’ I’ll be in there chillin’ (Em -Am-Em

I’m sad (oh yeah oh yeah) (Em- C)
It’s bad (oh yeah oh yeah) (Em- C)
I’m sad (oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah) (Em- C-D-G) (D)

Every brother I meet on the street is looking down,
wearing a frown, half a halo in the oven.
Maybe they’re clinically depressed; maybe their thinking about (Em)
dissolute offspring of 17th century patent barons got ‘em upset.
Or maybe they were singing, maybe they were singing
John Bartles’ Alphabet Song too long. Too long.

It’s a hairy day for money grubbers. (G – C) (G-C- D)
And you keep saying how I’m not enlightened. But I’m enlightened.
I’m the moving oven. I’m the really hollow. (C – D)

I’m sad (oh yeah oh yeah)
It’s bad (oh yeah oh yeah)
I’m sad (oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah) 2X (Em- C -/- D-G)

Gonna take up underage drinking, start sneaking smokes from my folks in Mexico. Bel-Airs, Montclairs, Micronite Tonite, Nite train lights 1000 with a silly millimeter, Indian Spirit menthol, Irish Spring Chestertons, (look at my chest, Cheswick!) Check the lock on the gun cabinet, figure out a way to blow up the moon, dysgenically let on a lot more than I know like a rolling dynamo.

It’s a hairy day for money grubbers. You keep saying how you think that I’m not enlightened. But I’m enlightened.

I’m the moving oven
I’m the vortex attack.
I’m the really hollow. I’m sad. (oh yeah etc.)

Joan Of Arc

According to the rendering
on this brie, she’s got a rack of armor
that would mayonaise a lesser man than me.
More curves than a bag of onions.
Everybody knows she’s not really a witch.
But when I look at all the men she’s slain she’s
driving me to King Hussein.
Joan of Arc is my girlfriend

Got the Brits to end their seige at Orleans;
made ’em touch poo poo and was burned at the stake
’cause it wasn’t something an ordinary woman
was supposed to be able to do.
She was canonized in 1920 by Pius the 10th,
Joan of Arc is my girlfriend.

I was standing back admiring the wall I’d just mortared,
when I couldn’t help thinking of
how my girlfriend was martyred.
Got the Brits to end the seige at Orleans,
‘made ’em touch poo poo.
‘made ’em touch poo poo.
I call her goggle-guffy. I don’t know why.
Joan of Arc is my girlfriend.
[Joan of Arc is his girlfriend.]

JUG-A-HUG

I got the prime rib
I got the channel 25
I got the old chaotic aorta outa mothballs.
I got moolah, moolah, moolah ooh la la.
Y’all been buying my records.
And that’s even funny when you don’t think about it.
Don’t call the doctor baby
bring me a big ole jug
of that rotgut moonshine likker
bring me a big ole jug
of that rotgut moonshine likker

We got the marvelous linguistics
and a predominantly minority terminal that will take us anywhere
and we’re looking at man’s inhumanity
to the little tiny ghost of the late Thumbelina.
And everybody likes being lied to late at nite.
Don’t call the doctor

Jug a hug a hug: hell yeah, hell yeah
Bring me a big ole jug; some
of that rotgut moonshine likker

We got the Rolls Royce…. And the James Joyce
what a price to pay! But that’s OK
got a overpopulation of dirty so and sos
mandatory healthcare for dirty so and sos of all ages and persuasions
We got the cheapest stop-gaps in town
We got the cheapest stop-gaps gonna put you down
We’ve got a soft dark mist across the beautiful ditch
where the sun’s just starting to rise again
& You gotta be a carcass before you can become a skeleton
Don’t call the doctor.

Jug A Hug a hug hell yeah hell yeah

The Last Snafu (martial shuffle w/shades) © LaBonne 1993

A
Across the river rome is burning chanel #5 and a T-bone steak is burning
at the poodle parlor the canine coiffeurs are burning and in the poodle parlor parking
lot, the corvettes are burning and the cadillacs are burning from the inside out this
time. And the riverbank is lined with excitement- I can’t make out what the people
are yelling to me so I’m smiling, waving, you know being friendly.
A (ascend) E D
Open up the cash register Pandora We’re ringing up the
A (ascend) E – E (descend) A [piano- A F#m E]
Last Snafu
A
Uh, meanwhile back in the jungle over by the parthenon, some hookers are making breakfast for a couple of guys. One got caught in a bear trap and another got his arm blown off tossing a grenade a herd of gazelles from an army chopper. Moaning and groaning and in incredible pain and behind the plate glass in the Poodle Parlor window, the dogs are barking, wagging their tails, tap-dancing around all hi-strung and jittery

Set up the game scales, Marlin; we’re poaching the last snafu
Up there in the cosmos the stars burning bright you can see ’em shinin’ in the nite. over the parking lot where your car got stolen
And we’re getting in line, about ready to start ordering up our chicken.
And the rats are flying around
And the mosquitos are crawling around in the parking lot
order up our chicken.
(D) (D)
open up the cash register Pandora! We’re ringing up the last- ringing up the last-
A (ascend) E – E (descend) (3X-9X depending)
ringing up the last snafu.
[piano- A F#m E]

Let’s Have Some Fun

the world of everyone you know
spread out across a parking lot
cement parking lot with weeds coming thru the cracks & the seams
bounce a ball, it’ll take a roll to the side
like Newton’s little gravity law that says
“everything that’s going down must come up a little shy”

Let’s Have Some Fun. Like Gumby & Pokey have
& Like Gumby & Pokey do, later we can just pretend like it
never happened.

I gave up on my intellect
now my whole damn intellect is gone
a whole floor’s worth of meds tray too
& you don’t need a crystal ball
& you don’t need to look me in the eye
baby, you don’t even need me at all

Let’s Have Some Fun. Like Gumby & Pokey have
& Like Gumby & Pokey do, later we can just pretend like it
never happened.

I almost got sprayed by a skunk
on a pirate ship
in outer space

Mega Fig-Leaf Man (A)

It has been said from ancient time
that once I free my mind,
my pleiades starmate’s gonna be channeling me
a Buddy Bolden session.
And Nostradamus makes the old again anew,
And all of Edgar Cayce’s dreams are coming true
Elvis have rose, so too Marilyn Monroe.

But until then
I’m gurglin & snurglin & burpin in a bucket
But until then F#m D E A
I’m flippin on the ugly Gertrude flap
baby but until then, I’m goin on a sideways monkey-ride
I’m pounding the bushes; MEGA FIG LEAF MAN!

Here written on this prehistoric scroll
that when the stars align aright
we’ll all be luxuriatin in the grotto of Fleetwoods here on earth
working on magnificent suntans
and there shall arise a retard in the courtyard
nd his litter shall be borne by 12 Etruscan virgins

But until then
the world is ours; relax for now
but until then
I still got a few things left to 12-spot
but until then
my car don’t work in the parallel universe
but until then
I’m pounding the bushes. MEGA FIG LEAF MAN!

but until then
I say it hardly wouldn’t be worth the wipin of it
but until then
the vultures are looking around for the stink
but until then
we’re party trickling down in the score me galore me gulag
I’m pounding the bushes MEGA FIG LEAF MAN!

Molecule

When all is said and done,
all girlfriends must claim to be from outer space.
Rocking and rolling, pouring hi-balls,
sticking needles in their arms. (Am – F)
sticking needles in their cute arms.

I hope you know what you’re doing. (Em -G – D)
Slow down, baby; I can’t make out the molecules.

(lead but the way, my darling, lead but the way)
And the lowly rise. And the mighty soar.
You trick me in my dreams thru fields of ripe corn. (C – D)
Different as a crook in jail, had to hike to hell to hide,
O Mimeo, O Mimeo, be not swanky.
Holla hurley jiggy lig-a-lor.

I hope you know what you’re doing.
Slow down, baby; I can’t make out the molecules. 4X

When all is said and done,
all girlfriends must claim to be from outer space.
Rocking and rolling, pouring hi-balls,
sticking needles in their arms.

Mongrel 900

Re-read the loan, Mammon.
Let’s get off, baby.
We’re open for business, Shixsas,
climb out of the specimen well.
Go up in a bucket & check out the powerlines, Princess.
Serious as thunder, world of wonders,
I’m going under,

mumumum mongrel 900

Hollywood tattletale,
we’re hitting a fever-pitch sideways, Shiva.
The dogs are nervous in the wind;
it’s blowing so hot at them;
going in & out of their minds
like they can’t get enough of it anymore.
It’s serious as thunder, world of wonders,
I’m going under,

mumumum mongrel 900

Is it fit for a king? It’s fit for anything.
Is it fit for a diamond ring?
It’s fit for whatever tomorrow might bring.

Long Chain Mud (tempo: incidental) © LaBonne ’93
(solo front)

Springtime. Way up North. In the piney piney woods.
Sun comes out and that’s good. Starts warmin’ up slow and that’s good.
But with the melting snow, and the ground still froze- about a foot down,
I got the 4X4 stuck in up past the doors. Gonna need a winch to clear it outa there.
(Can’t say we weren’t asking for it.) Long Chain Mud
Skiddin’ pulp for the paper mill. Cross section barrelhead on the mountainside.
I think my first ear’s gone blind. Tore my scab on a backhoe bucket.
(thumps)
Seems like the whole world’s smeared with fuel oil & blood. And I’m sliding down.
Sliding down. Sliding down in the ice & the rain. Sliding down in the long-
B C G g. g. g b c- g. g. g b. f (repeat for solo)

Long Chain Mud (end solo) B C (out)
Long Chain Mud

Poor Little Flower (bass walks chromatic jazz style 8-note)
all verses- 4 bar G intro and 2 bars G before C

G
Poor little flower bloomed on a rainy day
G
fate’s dealing down quickly like a moth bouncing off of a flame.
C
steady sheets of sadness from the darkened sky above but she-
G G G
clings to all that sadness with a wild and hungry love
D C

poor little flower poor little flower bloomed on a rainy dayG 2 3 4 F 2 3 4 A# 2 3 4 E 2 3 4 G G G G

poor little flower your cup runneth into the ground
your petals are all soaking and your vine is heaving down G G
C
like debris in the treetops- your only friendly face, you’re
G G G
crushed by the abandon of a passionate waste

D poor little flower C poor little flower bloomed on a rainy day G F A# E
G G G G Poor little flower just like being born blind
poor little flower out of sight and out of mind G G
C No news is good news– but what you don’t know—

G F A# E
isn’t always the news (end)

Pour Beer On Each Other
(tempo: darling you look wonderful under the boardwalk) © LaBonne 2000
E E
Pour beer. Pour beer on each other.
E E
Pour beer. Pour beer on each other.

F#m B F#m B (fade to stop)
Pour beer Pour beer

B (hit) B (hit) E7
Pour beer on Pour beer on Pour beer on each other.

Everybody sing along! (repeat song til it croaks)

Sack of Potatoes

G Em D
Yeah, yeah, oh yeah 2X

Em A
She’ll be your invisible vector
forever your role playing model
your sonic scarecrow singing Tantum Ergo
a la Eddie Cantor
remoulade to real hi heel ranch
romilar to ramada hollerin golly

G A
They never tell you on the radio
D Bm
You gotta treat your woman like a sack of potatoes

Em A
for the rest of your lives/ or until one of you dies
and it doesn’t seem to matter which
it could be the guy… or the sack of potato bitch (AAA)

G Em D
Yeah, yeah, oh yeah 2X

she take you fishing visually
always looking down there
swim around under water
don’t even need any air
carpenter ant drag an eyeball across the sand
of the outhouse floor
make you glad to be a mammal
glad to be a mammal

D Bm
you gotta treat your woman now
etc.
D C
And she’ll go up and down in a jocular motion etc.

SEIZE THAT FIEND

I found a flyer for some easter candy
from way back in the year 2000
It was rattles the rabbit
and on one hand/ looking like the symbol of fertility
and the rights of spring
and on the other hand/ leering out of a casket (G)
looking like some zombie resurrection

Now is that FUN? [Yeah] No, That’s Evil
and your just foolin’ yourselves, cause you know as well as I
ALL FUN IS EVIL
regardless of what your so-called modern mind
might find it convenient to believe
It shall destroy the world / It Shall destroy the world

Guard, guard, guard, o guard, Guard, seize that fiend
(G, D, G, C, G, D, G)

Who am I making fun of? And how would anyone ever Know?
I must be mocking someone out royal
God, and I move to a hotel room, above a strip club,
watch TV all night long, with my single Malt liquor,
anti-communicative Computating
Sleep all day with the blinds drawn
McDemplified. It gets louder and louder
when all our impetuous laws are erased

Now is that Fun? [Yeah] No,That’s Evil
and you’re just foolin’ yourselves, cause you know as well as I
ALL FUN IS EVIL
regardless of what your so-called modern mind
might find it convenient to believe
It shall destroy the world

Guard, guard, guard, o guard, Guard, seize that fiend
(G, D, G, C, G, D, G)

I’m McDemplified
I got stuff rattling around in the refrigerator
How about this?
Yebber milty/ Gurg-a-lurg Eyebrow bubble
and your just foolin’ yourselves, cause you know as well as I
ALL FUN IS EVIL
regardless of what your so-called modern mind
might find it convenient to believe
It shall destroy the world

Guard..Guard..Guard..O, Guard. Guard, seize that fiend

She Used To Walk

She used to walk right into the fire
just to be next to my hand.

Now let the flies find it.
Let the flies find what’s left of our world.

She’s locked into channel number groove
The one with the one world continuous program
narrow beam hi res satellite’s discarded debris
obsolete joys for a forgotten physical land
deal with each other back into chaos
and an eternal soul is still curious about this world

Now let the flies find it
let the flies find what’s left of our world.

She used to walk.

Silhouette © LaBonne ’93
G intro

C G
I tried trickery on her and I tried kindness on her
D C G
I bought her things that I couldn’t afford- keep her around for just one more lifetime
C
And I tried to please her too hard sometimes I guess
G
And I used to tease her a lot about leaving me

D C
Only one station was coming in clear and I fine-tuned it til it just disappeared

G F Em
from the airwaves. Now when anything’s shining like a planet in the night
F Em Am
or a boxcar from a wino jungle firelight.. or tombstone granite cleaved
Em G G Em D………
or a fresh idea in a troubled mind then I think I see

C G
And I try to focus on her silhouette but it’s just a shovel where I hung my hat

D C
Maybe there was something wrong after all Maybe that’s how empires fall
D C G
One day they smell like gasoline…. and the next day
they’re gone.

Somebody Must Be Praying For Me

E—-
Girl at the bottle return- grooming was all wrong/ fact she was a scrock.
I was going around giving her a wide berth. Worse came to worst- the short shrift.
She called over to me said the machine was full and that the cans wouldn’t go.
She sounded just like Bridget Bardot, and I told her so. And she smiled.
Now I love her, she loves me. We’re gonna raise a fam-o-lee.

Somebody must be praying for me. ‘Cause nothin’ I do is working out
A E—
the way I plan.

And I’m raptured. Up past twin peaks, tower of Babel, Jacob’s ladder, Occam’s razor, duelling banjos, all that crap.

Somebody must be praying etc. (X times)

Here’s something I saw Bo Diddly do. (Ryth. stable)

Somebody must be praying for me etc.

Superstar

The Haight. The bona fide Haight
the Dead. And loving the beautiful people
the beautiful flower people. On sunset. Hollywood
Frederick’s of Hollywood, Hollywood bowl

I was there.
And into my car some rain must fall.

Bird. Digging the cat
Early birds, discussing the worm issue
when the cops are least around
I was there

like a superstar
blinded by emotional sickness
mostly jibbering in restraints
off my cucumber about a foot
I was there

Gitcher red hot spider
Gitcher free red hot spider for sale
life liberty and pursuit of happiness
gitcher free red hot spider for sale

I was, I was, I was abruptly taken out of context.
I was there
like a superstar.

Swimmin Hole (slowest of blues) G B D B G B D
© LaBonne ’93 (unison guitar & bass line: 1 . & 3 . & 1 . & 3 .)throughout
Gm with short fills (D maj ok when appropriate)

I just got back I just got back from a brand new swimmin hole
It’s not very unique, no it’s just right down there in the creek, have mercy.
I got a splint on my finger & a cramp in my toe I just got back from a brand new…
swim hole.
(hit G )
Somebody threw in a section of guardrail- I’m swimmin along & I run into a sectionof guardrail somebody threw down in there & you know that aint too cool. So I got gash, I got a gash on my leg look like a shark been bitin on it too & you know THATaint too cool. & the blood is comin out & I’m trying to keep my head afloat but

(pause———————– random hits —————————-) Gm
I can’t do it— cause I got a cramp— gotta work off these cramps—

I just got back
(bring it down)
from a brand new swimmin hole. — Let’s bring it down. – trying to keep afloat- big
(fall apart)
gash in my throat like a shark bit it– and the fish are swimmin around– bitin’ it
(quiet swirly atonal)
& I got a cramp- goin down- I’m goin down- sliding across the rocks & the algae &
(pause ————————————————-
moss & shit & if I ever get out of here, I know I’m gonna get myself one hell of an
——————————-) Stop D#maj D Gm
infection. And now I’m back.

[I just got back from a brand new swimmin hole]
XXX -take to Vegas- XXX

Take Take Take

Im sorry, I didnt mean to hurt you, little girl
you know I wouldnt try to hurt you for anything in this world
I had a pound to grind
but I guess I missed her
I was trying to hurt your sister
thank you baby but now just go away
I believe today might be my special day
Im feeling nor worth the resources it takes to support me I suppose
Im about to become like the emperor’s new clothes

just let me take take take without giving
just let me get thru my life without living

the color of my fish bag is a blue
much like the color of the deep blue sea
you can visit my web sight on the astral plane
when youre feeling in the grip of faith
and fling yourself at objects in the fall
like a gutterball
& thank you baby, but just now go away
’cause I believe today might be my special day

just let me take take take without giving
just let me get thru my life without living

And even with your bosom on my shoulder
Anger resides in me
and it messes with my peace of mind
til only a little bit remains
not much left there to maintain
and I didnt mean to accidentally hurt you little girl
you know I wouldnt try to hurt you for anything in this world
light me with sterno and hydrogenine
I believe today might be my special day

just let me take take take without giving
just let me get thru my life without living
just let me take take take without giving
just let me get thru my life without living

And even with your bosom on my shoulder
Anger resides in me
and it messes with my peace of mind
til only a little bit remains
not much left there to maintain
and I didnt mean to accidentally hurt you little girl
you know I wouldnt try to hurt you for anything in this world
light me with sterno and hydrogenine
I believe today might be my special day (second date)

just let me take take take without giving
just let me get thru my life without living

The Driving © LaBonne ’95

A D A E
One night out a week living on a work release
A D A E A E E E
sick of my job so I skip out of there and go out and have a few beers
A D A E
I don’t need to pretend that the world is gonna end
A D A E A E E E
’cause frankly my damn, I don’t give a shit just get your car down here let’s split
A D A E
And if you’re gonna do the driving I’m gonna do the drinking
A D A E A E E E
And if you’re gonna do the drinking baby I’m gonna do the drinking too
(harmonica verse)
A D A E
I shook up my last beer and now they’re kicking me out of here
A D A E A E E E
My money’s no good in this place but I don’t have any anyway.
A D A E
Let’s go somewhere else in some other town
A D A E A E E E E E E etc.
You and me we go satelliting somewhere where I can’t be found
A D A E
And if you’re gonna do the driving I’m gonna do the drinking
A D A E A
And if you’re gonna do the drinking baby I’m gonna do the drinking too
A E A
I’m gonna do the drinking with you

Toothy Ruthie

She’s a phony
Her life is a sham
A travesty; A frowny clown

She has no gourd
Her gourd is gone

Toothy— toothy—- Ruthie

Y’oughta see her with a Pie crust
and her horrible yelling
Like when she wants to borrow a crowbar
Even Jesus hates her
Spare change, bum a smoke,
what is happiness, got a dollar five?

she has no gourd her gourd is gone

– toothy toothy ruthie

She doesn’t trust her memory
How could she
Scorn & derision/ obsequious rage
Hamburger in a parking lot
Now is all she’s got

She has no gourd/ her gourd is gone
Toothy, toothy—-Ruthie/Ruthie/Ruthie

Trophy Bowler D

When I was a kid we had this band
and I remember my father used to drive us around in the station wagon.
We had to go pretty far sometimes like 50 miles sometimes
and then play for like 4 hours for a bunch of jerky kids.
I never asked him what he did to kill that time
but he was always around to take the little rock stars home.
He’d come up with all these goofy goofy ideas on the ride home,
about what we should call ourselves, songs we should do,
he would see a sign said turn right, and he thought that would, you know, be great.
Oh it was funny alright, it was funny for a little while (made me puke my guts) but I remember sometimes it would just drive me crazy.

That would make a good song, (wouldn’t it? NO! 3X),
That would be a good name for your group, (wouldn’t it? NO! 3X)
That would make a good song, (wouldn’t it? NO! 3X)
That would be a good name for your band, wouldn’t it? NO! 2X)
WOULDN’T IT???

HELLO ATLANTA! SHOE RUG LOVES YA!
They say you’ll only bring me down
every day in every way
But trophy bowler gonna stick around
till the laws of physics start breaking down.
Trophy bowler, trophy bowler yeah
So all I got to say
Is trophy bowler is here to stay
I’ll take my guitar and play

Tundra Sled

Well I’m hopping on my tundra sled and heading up north to the permafrost
And I’ll take two of each kind of species I’ve not yet begun to hate
in my zoo bag.
North. Where the days and nights come in upper case.
I’m gonna take a LIVER FLUKE
and a HOG LOUSE
Hey maybe a PEAR SLUG
how bout a CATTLE TIC (yah!)
LESSER MIGRATORY LOCUST
and a CANKER WORM
Hey what’s this?
What kind of blind date is going on in there?
ORIENTAL RAT FLEA cuddle in there under my lip, you make me flip!
Little ITCH MITE, turn out the light and spend the night.
Hey that would be alright!
(er-grr / ooh lovey dovey)

TURNING THE PAGE (G)
(this song is brought to you by the untied we strand foundation. (it’s folk)

We don’t exist
They don’t exist
yet somehow we hinder each other
Wary of the Iliad
extremely lenient,
I’m here to lodge your dignity
My prostate’s gonna belly flop on your pap smear
like a fish can’t even get enough to drink
I’m a geometric line
throwing my banana peel
in the laundry
what the fuck’s wrong with you
Assuming “I don’t care if you die” is just a figure of speech

The sterility of my Q-tip knows no carbon dating
I’ve been getting it on in years (here’s the chorus)

One hand tied around my back
two thieves steal away in the night
in a jungle gym frame of mind, I’m turning the page.

A few days into my psychiatric treatment
which was 1200 milligrams of thorazine a day
and 60 milligrams of stelazine a day,
I tried beer.
I figured- A happy hotel is a happy hotel
and walking into a wall is walking into a wall

O we dont exist
and they don’t exist
but somehow we hinder each other.
yeah somehow we hinder each other. (solo)

One hand tied around my back
two thieves steal away in the night
in a jungle gym frame of mind
I’m turning the page, I’m turning the page (exit harp)

We Live Like Kings E Abm A B

I’m taking a walk
talking to the hawk
I got thrown out of this world justifiably.
Just another metabolic unit in my sporty driftwood hat.

I’m gonna kill some things ( C#m A – C#m A B)
start life all over again
ready to rock & roll, ready to feed the cat,
ready to take it easy
We Live Like Kings (A- B- E)

I’m seeing a cartoon version of devastation. E Abm A B
I’m seeing the sun return to the land.
I’m seeing the dramatic Hercules dynasty syndrome explode.
I’m seeing ugly things
ugly things moving around and shunting.

I see Horace, the resourceful racehorse ( C#m A – C#m A B)
And Lee The Eel.
I see the thermostat telling the boiler to go on.
We Live Like Kings. (A- B- E

Time Capsule
intro

There’s a crack in my time capsule
and eternity keeps on
permeating permeating permeating permeating permeating
forever dangling down in a bottomless snake pit
forever dandling down
a little infinity goes a long long way

Permeating: FALLING OFF A BIKE
Permeating: HOLE IN THE DIKE
Permeating: LIKE STEPPING ON A SPIKE
Permeating: DOUBLE EDGED SWORD
Permeating: LIKE A GIRL PAINTED GOLD
Permeating: LIKE CIGARETTE SMOKE
Permeating: ON A NEEDLEPOINTED DOILY
Permeating: LIKE THE BACK DOOR MAN
Permeating: CROUCHING IN THE GARBAGE CAN
Permeating: TOXINS IN THE WATER TABLE
Permeating: GAMMA IN THE OZONE SHIELD
Permeating: GRANMA’S IN THE FLORIDA TRAFFIC

SAYING YOU CAN TAKE IT WHEN YOU GO
BUT YOU CAN’T DO NOTHING WITH IT WHEN YOU GET THERE
SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL GO IMMORTAL
solo
There’s a crack in my time capsule
and eternity keeps on
permeating permeating permeating permeating permeating
forever dangling down in a bottomless snake pit
forever dandling down
a little infinity goes a long long way

PEARLY GATE G

Whatever it is can wait at the Pearly Gate
‘Cause every day is about the same at the Pearly Gate
Every day is the Sabbath, babe at the Pearly Gate

They shut the tweedle-dee down at the Pearly Gate
They even shut down your trabecular meshwork
at the Pearly Gate
Under the big top in Luchenbach Texas
the grease of my previous meal congealed in me

Sub Sub Sub Sub
Sub-Atomic particle micro-waving Tyrannosaurus Rex
Ran-a-Ran Ran Ran
renaissance assistance arm’s slow-motion pistons respectively
Give,uh, Give Give Give
Give a rest to your vast haiku of flesh

Whatever it is can wait at the Pearly Gate
‘Cause every day is about the same at the Pearly Gate
Every day is the Sabbath, babe at the Pearly Gate

Sabbath once, Sabbath twice, but Sabbath 365 is nice
FREE BEER!

Whatever it is, it can wait at the Pearly Gate
‘Cause every day is about the same at the Pearly Gate
Every day is the Sabbath, babe at the Pearly Gate

I couldn’t remember if I kissed her, at the Pearly Gate
Or if I fisted her sister, at the Pearly gate
Or neither, Or both

Whatever it is can wait at the Pearly Gate
‘Cause every day is about the same at the Pearly Gate
Every day is the Sabbath, babe at the Pearly Gate
Whatever it is can wait at the Pearly Gate
(Down at the Pearly Gate)

Why Was I Born (part 2) Em G D Am

Well I told you about the wiggly snake
and I told you about the tailpipe in the grass
I think I might have mentioned an ear
and I know that I told you about the deer

well looky here.
The back end is open and gone.
And the crows are walking around in there,
plucking occasional chunks of viscera and flab;
the liver got dragged off a couple yards across the dog tracks
in the ice and the living snow.

And I even thought about hauling the rib cage up
to make a lampshade, no lie.
But I keep putting it off and putting it off and off and off and off,
I don’t know why.
‘Cause the Indians would have made it into a patio by now
or at least dangled the spleen off a pergola. (they woulda)

why was I born part two

I live a life of waste and shame
always jumping over a gun.
Prob’ly my luck land up perishing in the flame
residing in the grave yard where the dead are buried

Why was I born part two
Why was I born part two

I think it’s about time to say the magic words,
the mystery words
the unwords
the dead sea words
the inertia verbs
the forbidden syllables ready? o.k. go.

(bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit) 8X

She shames me drinking.
She two to one’s me under the table.
Yeah, she shames me under the table and I shut my yap.
And I try to muster the gumption to get up and go
over the counter
off the books.

And the righteous shall equalify!
And the wrongteous shall equalify too!
On the mighty mighty road
On the mighty mighty mighty super road.
Sisters!
Brothers!
Mothers!
Chil’ren!
Fathers, Distaff Aunts, Great Grandfatha!
Funky Unky, Second Cousins twice removed,

Mah Filler Americans!
All ye abased and exalted,
all ye uh, everybody been exhumed with cloven bosom!
Oh mighty Connect-the-Dotsicus, father of astronomy,
Oh Doctor Scaryokie with an amphibian eating your teeth,
all you dogs on a leash, tell me

Why was I born part two
(bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit)
Why was I born part two
(bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit)

hello again,
I hope you’re having an introspective
and subsequently miserable Lent.
I say subsequently rather than schlepp,
‘cause subsequently’s\ what I meant’
like a jerk, yeah like a jerk.

The Mystery Words!
bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit
bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit
(Why was I born part two)
bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit
bourj gnong gilly-o grob fit the fit the fit