« Music: September 2009 |
Main | Music: November 2009 » Wynona's Big Brown Beaver by PrimusWynona'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 traveled 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 once 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
By fnord12 | October 29, 2009, 8:42 AM | Music | Link
The Under Assistant West Coast Promotion Man by the Rolling StonesWell I'm waiting at the bus stop in downtown L.A.
Well I'm waiting at the bus stop in downtown L.A.
But I'd much rather be on a boardwalk on Broadway Well I'm sitting here thinkin' just how sharp I am
Well I'm sitting here thinkin' just how sharp I am
I'm an under assistant west coast promo man Well I promo groups when they come into town
Well I promo groups when they come into town
Well they laugh at my toupee, they're sure to put me down Well I'm sitting here thinking just how sharp I am
Yeah I'm sitting here thinking just how sharp I am
I'm a necessary talent behind every rock and roll band Yeah, I'm sharp
I'm really, really sharp
I sure do earn my pay
Sitting on the beach every day, yeah
I'm real real sharp, yes I am
I got a corvette and a seersucker suit
Yes I have Here comes the bus, uh oh
I though I had a dime
Where's my dime
I know I have a dime somewhere
Im pretty sure...
By fnord12 | October 22, 2009, 9:55 AM | Music | Link
Making Love to a Vampire by Captain Beefheart & His Magic BandMaking love to a vampire with a monkey on my knee
The pond shined dry like a ladies compact
Lilies leaped like flat green hearts with white hearts
Squirting yellow pollen...cocks...
Ferns ran like cool spades.. fossils. ..away from rocks
Bees echoed dark carbon hums that dashed in nothing
Gnats fucked my ears 'n nostrils
Hit my brain like hones 'n numbed t' nothing
Wings stuck on liquid bones
Making love to a vampire with a monkey on my knee
The moon poured hollow down my milky leg
Splashed still 'n moved
The wind peed down the willows 'n pricked the needle vine
The monkey moved a fur shadow... its soot tail curled in twos
Its lips smiled needles.. its eyes rolled loose
Her throat broke open... glistened in the dew
Red berries dangled like a dream of rubies too
Snot muscles ran down her ivory chin 'n tooth within
A locket... a pin held fast to then, my love, my pocket deep within
'N senses dangled the chain that clasped me to her then
The messenger spoke the wind that blows between our time
I sensed you then 'n whispers spin 'n flow in silver dust
Around the pointed pin
Sent to nothing
God, please fuck my mind for good
Making love to a vampire with a monkey on my knee
Oh fuck that thing.. .fuck that poem...eyes crawl out with maggots
White cloth bones pile up light thrown blades
Rags 'n skull.. scoops soil cracks.. .drain screams.. please
Take my hand 'n join me... too soon its clutches gleams
Making love to a vampire with a monkey on my knee
Death be damned... life
By fnord12 | October 15, 2009, 11:02 AM | Music | Link
Plastic Bag by X-Ray Spex1977 and we are going mad
It's 1977 and we've seen too many ads
1977 and we're gonna show them all
That apathy's a drag My mind is like a plastic bag
That corresponds to all those ads
It sucks up all the rubbish
That is fed in through by ear
I eat Kleenex for breakfast
And use soft hygienic Weetabix
To dry my tears My mind is like a switchboard
With crossed and tangled lines
Contented with confusion
That is plugged into my head
I don't know what's going on
It's the operator's job, not mine
I said My dreams I daren't remember
Or tell you what I've seen
I've dreamt that I was Hitler
The ruler of the sea
The ruler of the universe
The ruler of the supermarket
And even fatalistic me
By fnord12 | October 8, 2009, 11:18 AM | Music | Link
Death opened a boutique by the Future Bible Heroeson friday the 13th, death opened a boutique
on the champs elysees
selling fear and dismay open seven days a week
it was de rieugur and chic
for the wicked and the weak
death opened a boutique people came from far and near
to buy poison and tears
the decor was delectable
the service impeccable it was expensive - what isn't?
it sold black plague and socialism
there was no reason to exist
if you weren't on the mailing list
By fnord12 | October 1, 2009, 8:08 AM | Music | Link
« Music: September 2009 |
Main | Music: November 2009 » |