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POLICE TRUCK
Tonight’s the night that we got the truck
/ We’re goin’ downtown, gonna beat
up drunks / Your turn to drive, I’ll bring
the beer / It’s the late late shift no
one to fear / And ride, ride how we ride / We
ride, lowride / It’s round-up time where
the good whores meet / Gonna drag one screaming
off the street / And ride, ride, how we ride
/ Got a black uniform and a silver badge / Playin’
cops for real, playin’ cops for pay /
Let’s ride, lowride / Pull down your dress
here’s a kick in the ass / Let’s
beat you blue ‘til you shit in your pants
/ Don’t move, child, got a big black stick
/ There‘s six of us, babe, so suck on
my dick / And ride, ride, how we ride / Let’s
ride, ride, how we ride / Let’s ride,
lowride / The Left newspapers might whine a
bit / But the guys at the station, they don’t
give a shit / Dispatch calls, “Are you
doin’ something wicked?” / “No,
siree, jack, we’re just given’ tickets”
/ As we ride, ride, how we ride / Let’s
ride, lowrid
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TOO DRUNK TO FUCK
Went to a party / I danced all night / I drank
16 beers / And I started up a fight / But now
I’m jaded / You’re out of luck /
I’m rollin’ down the stairs / Too
drunk to fuck / Too drunk to fuck / Too drunk
to fuck / Too drunk to fuck / I’m too
drunk, too drunk, too drunk / To fuck / I like
your stories / I love your gun / Shooting out
cop tires / Sounds like loads and loads of fun
/ But in my room / Wish you were dead / You
bawl like the baby / In Eraserhead / Too drunk
to fuck / Too drunk to fuck / Too drunk to fuck
/ It’s all I need right now / Too drunk
to fuck / Too drunk to fuck / Too drunk to fuck
/ Too drunk to fuck / I’m sick, soft,
gooey and cold / Too drunk to fuck / I’m
‘bout to drop / My head’s a mess
/ The only salvation is / I’ll never see
you again / You give me head / It makes it worse
/ Take out your fuckin’ retainer / Put
it in your purse / I’m too drunk to fuck
/ You’re too drunk to fuck / Too drunk,
to fuck / It’s all I need right now, oh
baby / I’m melting like an ice cream bar,
/ Oh baby / And now I got diarrhea / Too drunk
to fuck / Yeah, yeah / Yeah, yeah / Yeah, yeah
/ Ooooohhh…
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CALIFORNIA ÜBER
ALLES
I am Governor Jerry Brown / My aura smiles /
And never frowns / Soon I will be President…
/ Carter power will soon go away / I will be
Führer one day / I will command all of
you / Your kids will meditate in school / Chorus:
California Über Alles / Über Alles
California / Zen fascists will control you /
100% natural / You will jog for the master race
/ And always wear the happy face / Close your
eyes, can’t happen here / Big Bro’
on white horse is near / The hippies won’t
come back you say / Mellow out or you will pay
/ (Chorus) / Now it is 1984 / Knock knock at
your front door / It’s the suede/denim
secret police / They have come for your uncool
niece / Come quietly to the camp / You’d
look nice as a drawstring lamp / Don’t
you worry, it’s only a shower / For your
clothes here’s a pretty flower / Die on
organic poison gas / Serpent’s egg’s
already hatched / You will croak, you little
clown / When you mess with President Brown /
(Chorus)
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MAN WITH THE DOGS
I am no one / But I’m well known / For
I am the man with the dogs / I stare at you
shopping / Watch while you’re walking
/ Two dogs run around your toes / You turn around
/ Two eyes break you down / Now, who does that
guy think he’s starin’ at? / Stop
in your tracks / You’re being laughed
at / Your armored ego is nude / And I do and
I do / Crack up ‘cause I’m getting
to you / I see you I see you / And you’re
pretty self-conscious too / Down to your church
/ I’m looking for victims / Spell of the
man with the dogs / I’ll haunt you / And
follow you to work / That ghost is back again
/ Creep into you / I won’t go away / You’re
taking yourself too seriously / I smile as you
frown / And turn to walk away / Your habits
for all to see / I see a shrew / I see you /
And the rodent things you do / You see you I
see you / And you’re pretty self-conscious
too / And I’m gonna crack your mask /
Yeah and I’m gonna laugh / Open wide…
/ See you again / You’ll see me tomorrow
/ Curse of the man with the dogs / You may not
like me / You won’t forget me / Not safe
even in Walgreen’s / They’ve seen
me / Ask your friends / “Oh, I know him”
/ Seen but I’m never heard / By your lot
/ A stare / Is worth a thousand biting phrases
/ See how stupid you are? / I dare you I dare
you / To erase my laser tattoo / You see you
you see you / And you’re pretty self-conscious
too / And I’m gonna crack your mask /
Yeah, and I’m gonna laugh / What’s
inside? / Is it pubic hair / Is it cobweb air
/ I bet you just don’t care…
©1979 Decay Music
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N-SIGHT
Who’s that kid in the back of the room
/ Who’s that kid in the back of the room
/ He’s setting all his papers on fire
/ He’s setting all his papers on fire
/ Where did he get that crazy smile / Were did
he get that crazy smile / We all think he’s
really weird / We all think he’s really
weird / Chorus: We never talk to him / He never
looks quite right / He laughs at us / We just
beat him up / What he sees escapes our sight
/ We never see him with the girls / We never
see him with the girls / He’s talking
to himself again / He’s talking to himself
again / Why doesn’t he want tons of friends
/ Why doesn’t he want tons of friends
/ Says he’s bored when we hang around
/ Says he’s bored when we hang around
/ (Chorus) / We’re all planning our careers
/ We’re all planning our careers / We’re
all planning our careers / He ways we’re
growing old…
©1980 Decay Music
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LIFE
SENTENCE
You used to be a partner in crime / Now you say
you ain’t got the time / Gotta get serious,
gotta plan / Gotta pass those entrance exams /
Oh, my god - / It’s Senior year / All you
care about is your career / It’s a life
sentence / Life sentence / Life sentence / Life
sentence / You’re squelching you emotions
/ All you talk about is old times / You don’t
do what you want to / But you do the same thing
every day / No sense of humor / But such good
manners / Now you’re an adult / You’re
boring / It’s your sentence / Life sentence
/ Life sentence / Life sentence / The walls are
closing in / You stayed too long in school / I’d
rather stay a child / And keep my self respect
/ If being an adult / Means being like you / Are
you really you you you / You you you you you you
/ Are you really you? / No / You’re a chained-up
dog fenced in a yard / Don’t see much, you
can’t go far / Pace and froth, you’re
getting sick / Run too fast it’ll snap your
neck / You say you’ll break out / But you
never do / You’re just another ant in the
hill / That’s your life sentence
©1982
Decay Music |
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A
CHILD AND HIS LAWNMOWER
Some clown in Sacramento was dragged into court
/ He shot his lawnmower / It disobeyed, it wouldn't
start / Might makes right, it's the American way®
/ They fined him $60 and sent him on his way /
You know, some people don't take no shit / Maybe
if they did they'd have half a brain left |
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HOLIDAY
IN CAMBODIA
So you been to school for a year or two / And
you know you’ve seen it all / In daddy’s
car thinkin’ you’ll go far / Back
East your type don’t crawl / Play ethnicky
jazz to parade your snazz / On your five grand
stereo / Braggin’ that you know how the
niggers feel cold / And the slums got so much
soul / It’s time to taste what you most
fear / Right Guard will not help you here / Brace
yourself, my dear / It’s a holiday in Cambodia
/ It’s tough kid, but it’s life /
It’s a holiday in Cambodia / Don’t
forget to pack a wife / You’re a star-belly
sneech you suck like a leech / You want everyone
to act like you / Kiss ass while you bitch so
you can get rich / But your boss gets richer off
you / Well you’ll work harder with a gun
in your back / For a bowl of rice a day / Slave
for soldiers ‘til you starve / then your
head is skewered on a stake / Now you can go where
people are one / Now you can go where they get
things done / What you need, my son… / Is
a holiday in Cambodia / Where people dress in
black / A holiday in Cambodia / Where you’ll
kiss ass or crack / (chant) Pol Pot, Pol Pot,
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, etc. / And it’s a holiday
in Cambodia / Where you’ll do what you’re
told / A holiday in Cambodia / Where the slum’s
got so much soul
©1980 Decay Music |
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I FOUGHT THE LAW
Drinkin’ beer in the hot sun / I fought
the law and I won / I needed sex and I got mine
/ I fought the law and I won / The law don’t
mean shit if you’ve got the right friends
/ That’s how this country’s run /
Twinkies are the best friend I’ve ever had
/ I fought the law and I won / I blew George and
Harvey’s brains out with my six gun / I
fought the law and I won / Gonna write my book
and make a million / I fought the law and I won
/ I’m the new folk hero of the Ku Klux Klan
/ My cop friends think that’s fine / You
can get away with murder if you’ve got a
badge / I fought the law and I won / I am the
law so I won
words & music: Sonny Curtis / new lyrics:
Biafra / Published by Acuff-Rose Opryland Music
Co. |
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SATURDAY
NIGHT HOLOCAUST
There’s a prefab building and a funny smell
/ Around the hill outside of town / Every now
and then we wonder / But we shrug our shoulders
and get back to work / There’s a railroad
there and trains go by / And there’s people
locked in cattle cars / And have you noticed the
french fries at the A&W / Taste a little strange?…
/ I drive down to the disco / Pompadour and pink
lamé / I bow and blow the doorman / He
parts the chain, says “join the game”
/ A quick line in the girl’s room / To the
bar for the electrodes / A coin into the right
slits / Tape my temple, watch me go! / Blacks
are banned, ‘cept on the records / Oh life’s
a cabaret / Like Berlin, 1930 / All I crave is
my escape / Now I want your perfect Barbie doll
lips / And I want your perfect Barbie doll eyes
/ Slip my fingers down your Barbie doll dress
/ Up and down your spandex ass / If I lit a match
to you / You’d melt before my eyes / C’mere
my pretty glow-worm / You look so fine to dance
with me / The fly-eye lights are throbbin’
/ I’m burnin’ up the floor / Whirling
twirling / Close my eyes / No faces judging me
/ A Hitler Youth in joggin’ suit / Smiling
face banded ‘round his arm / Says, “Line
up, you’ve got work to do / We need dog
food for the poor” / A scream bleats out,
we’re herded into lines / Customized vans
wait outside / I’m scared of my new home
/ To Auschwitz condominiums we go / Oh no / Now
I want your perfect Barbie doll lips / And I want
your perfect Barbie doll eyes / Let my fingers
down your dress / One more time…
©1982
Decay Music |
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PULL
MY STRINGS
I’m tired of self respect / I can’t
afford a car / I wanna be a prefab superstar /
I wanna be a tool / Don’t need no soul /
Wanna make big money / Playing rock and roll /
I’ll make my music boring / I’ll play
my music slow / I ain’t no artist, I’m
a businessman / No ideas of my own / I won’t
offend / Or rock the boat / Just sex and drugs
/ And rock and roll / Drool, drool, drool, drool,
drool, drool…my payola! / Drool, drool,
drool, drool, drool, drool…my payola! /
You’ll pay ten bucks to see me* / On a fifteen
foot high stage / Fatass bouncers kick the shit
/ Out of kids who try to dance / If my friends
say / I’ve lost my guts / I’ll laugh
and say / That’s rock and roll / But there’s
just one problem… / Chorus: Is my cock big
enough / Is my brain small enough / For you to
make me a star / Give me a toot / And I’ll
sell you my soul / Pull my strings and I’ll
go far / And when I’m rich / And meet Bob
Hope / We’ll shoot some golf / And shoot
some dope / (Chorus)
©1980 Decay Music |
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SHORT
SONGS
I like short songs / (repeat 13 times)
©1979
Decay Music |
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STRAIGHT
A’S
Sixteen, on the honor roll / I wish that I was
dead / Parents hat me, I got zits / And bruises
’round my head / Pressure’s on to
get good grades / So I can be like them / Do my
homework all the time / I can’t go out just
then / People they ain’t friends at all
/ They tease me and suck me dry / Yell at me when
I fuck up / And party while I cry / I look so
big on paper / I feel so fucking small / Wanna
die and you don’t care / Just stride on
down the hall / Suicide, suicide / Read the paper,
wonder why / Turn the light out, then you cry
/ It’s your fault, you made my die / Touch
me won’t you touch me now / So frozen I
can’t love / When I was born my mama cried
/ And picked me up with gloves / Girls, they kick
me in the eye / Want answers to the tests / When
they get them they drive off / And leave me home
to rest / Hold my head / Make me warm / Tell me
I am loved / Give me hope / Let me cry / Make
me feel / Give me touch / The window’s broken,
bleeding screaming / Lying in the hall / I’m
gone no one remembers me / A picture on the wall
/ “He was such a bright boy / The future
in his hands…” / Or a spineless human
pinball / Shot around by your demands / Suicide,
suicide / Goin’ to sleep and when I die
/ You’ll look up and realize / Then look
down and wipe your eyes / Then go back to your
stupid lives / Aw shit
©1979 Decay Music |
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KINKY
SEX MAKES THE WORLD GO ‘ROUND
Greetings…this is the Secretary of War at
the State Department of the United States…We
have a problem. The companies want something done
about this sluggish world economic situation…profits
have been running a little thin lately and we
need to stimulate some growth…now we know
there’s an alarmingly high number of young
people roaming around in your country with nothing
to do but stir up trouble for the police and damage
private property. It doesn’t look like they’ll
ever get a job…It’s about time we
did something constructive with these people…We’ve
got thousands of ‘em here too. They’re
crawling all over…The companies think it’s
time we all sit down, have a serious get-together
- start another war…The President? He loves
the idea! All those missiles streaming overhead
to and fro…Napalm…People running down
the road, skin on fire…The Soviets seem
up for it…The Kremlin’s been itching
for the real thing for years: Hell, Afghanistan’s
no fun…So whadya say?…We don’t
even have to win this war. We just want to cut
down on some of this excess population…Now
look. Just start up a draft: Draft as many people
as you can. We’ll call up every last youngster
we can get our hands on, hand ’em some speed,
give ‘em an hour or tow to learn how to
use an automatic rifle and send ‘em on their
way…Libya? El Salvador? How ‘bout
Northern Ireland? Or a ‘moderately repressive
regime’ in South America? We’ll just
cook up a good Soviet threat story in the Middle
East - we need that oil…We had Libya all
ready to go and Colonel Khadafy’s hit squad
didn’t even show up. I tell ya…That
man in unreliable. The Kremlin had their fingers
on the button just like we did for that one…Now
just think for a minute - we can make this war
so big - so big…The more people we kill
in this war, the more the economy will prosper…We
can get rid of practically everybody on your dole
queues if we plan this right. Take every loafer
on welfare right off our computer rolls…Now
don’t worry about those demonstrators -
just pump up your drug supply. So many people
have hooked themselves on heroin and amphetamines
since we took over, it’s just like Vietnam.
We had everybody so busy with LSD they never got
too strong. Kept the war functioning just fine…It’s
easy. We’ve got out college kids so interested
in beer they don’t even care if we start
manufacturing germ bombs again. Put a nuclear
stockpile in their back yard, they wouldn’t
even know what oit looked like…So how ‘bout
it? Look - war is money. The arms manufacturers
tell me unless we get our bomb factories up to
full production the whole economy is going to
collapse…The Soviets are in the same boat.
We all agree the time has come for the big one,
so whadya say?!?…that’s excellent.
We knew you’d agree…The companies
will be very pleased.
©1982 Decay Music |
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THE
PREY
You’re from out of town / I can tell that
by your shoes / Flew in for the convention / Getting
tipsy in a bar / You’re leavin’ pretty
late / Gotta get up in the morning / Thinking
she’s just too expensive / And you know
you’re… / Probably… / Right!
/ There’s no one on the streets / And you
can’t find your hotel / You walk a little
faster / - Someone’s following you / The
wallet-sized bulge / In your double-knit butt
/ Has money for me / And maybe credit cards /
You dart around the next corner / You can’t
look around / Quick now, fish for the keys / For
the door / You don’t even know where you
are / You walk a little faster / I walk a little
faster / Sensing that I sense you / Now there’s
no escape / I can almost taste your dandruff /
As I reach for your face / - And I strike!
©1981 Decay Music |
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NIGHT OF THE LIVING REDNECKS
Ray's guitar broke. No, we won't play Rawhide,
won't play anything. We'll play the theme from
the Dinah Shore show. Who wants to be Dinah Shore?
Who's alter-ego is Dinah Shore? Oh, his fists
didn't go up so quickly this time. Yawn...yawn..yawn.
Put those headphones on, it's be-bop time.
I want to tell you a story about the last time
I was in Portland. The night before we played
at the Long Goodbye. I was walking on the street
about 10:30 at night. A lot of people go to bed
around here at 10:30 at night. And well, I was
walking along when suddenly these jocks in this
bright blue pickup drove up. It had KC lights,
tractor tires, everything but the CB. It was a
life-size Hot Wheels car for some dumb rich kid,
right. Well, they drove up to me and they yelled
what dumb rich kids usually yell, "Hey, faggot,"
and showered me with some water. So, I stood there
thinking, what a bunch of fuckheads and picked
up a rock. Now, I waited, walked down about a
block to where the Kentucky Fried Chicken is,
on Burnside, and sure enough they drove around
again. They said, "Hey, faggot, where's the
nearest McDonald's?" I said, "I don't
know" and they squirted me again. So I threw
the rock and put a nice-size dent in their giant
Hot Wheels car. They screached to a halt in the
parking lot of some department store, who's name
I don't remember, it's up the street from Fred
Meyer, and they got out their clubs and they ran
after me, yelling, "We're gonna kill you,
you god damn faggot, we're gonna kill you, you
motherfucker." So I got in a phonebooth by
the Kentucky Fried Chicken on Burnside, held my
legs straight out like this so they couldn't open
the door to the phonebooth. So they began charging
the phonebooth, beating on it with their club,
yelling, "We're gonna kill you, you motherfucker,
we're gonna kill you, you god damn faggot."
I just looked at them. So, there was a crowd gathering
by this time and these kids were standing nearby
and they said, "Oh, look at him, he's insane."
I thought, ah-hah, here's my way out. I yelled
at them, "Take me to a mental hospital right
away. I wanna be be put away. Please put me away,
c'mon, call the cops and put me away. Please put
me away now." They said, "Alright, faggot,
we're calling the police." So they called
the police. The cop comes out and I go, ah, my
savior, I'm away from these jocks. He opens up
the door, "Get out of there, you," throws
me up against the car, frisks me, shoves me in
the back. Then he goes over to the jocks, "Now
what happened here? It looks like we're going
have to take him to jail but we got to have the
full story first" So the jocks, who had an
ace in the hole, ace in the hole [Take down on
the bass, a little bit down on the bass. Yeah],
ace in the hole, and they go, "Well, goddammit,
the motherfucker put a dent in my truck, a $5000
truck, right, so I got my club, I went out and
I wanted to kill him. I want to kill him. Let
me kill him, goddammit. Let me kill him."
So the cop made them go home, and he drove me
home, and he confiscated their club and my rock
as further evidence. And I thought, so this is
Oregon, huh? Tolerent Oregon?
Ray, are you done with your guitar yet? He isn't
done yet. So what else do you want to hear, I'm
out of stories. That's a true story, too. Just
ask Bruce Loose.
©1987 Decay Music
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BUZZBOMB FROM PASADENA
Buzzbomb Buzzbomb, macho-mobile / The road’s
my slave, that’s how I feel / I cruise alone,
I cruise real far / Shoo, young punk! I love my
car / Cross Nevada at 110 / Highway 50 and there’s
nobody there / Sign say, ‘Next sign 30 miles!’
/ My pension comes - / Each penny saved buys more
escape from home / I’d rather cruise around
all day / Than move into a home / Plow through
rest area San-O-Lets / Splat! Goes the lonely
salesman / Still wanking in the men’s room…
/ Buzzbomb Buzzbomb, tape up loud / Lawrence Welk
cranked up to 10 / Faster faster in my car / Buzzbomb
is my pride and joy / King of the trailer court
/ Waiting for a nice young man / Who’ll
love me for my car / Who tells me why I’m
cool / Tells me just what I like / When I pretend
he’s here / Shred through Palm Springs across
the golf course / Cops ‘round here scratching
their heads / Flashing sirens, State Patrol…uh
oh / They’re scuffing up the side of my
car / They’re shooting out my tires / This
ain’t no way to go to heaven / Buzzbomb
cornered at the 7-11
©1987 Decay Music |
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