| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 2:24 | 
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Tonight's the night that we got the truck
We're going 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 And ride Lowride It's roundup time where the good whores We're gonna drag one screaming off the street And ride Ride, how ride ride Got a black uniform and a silver badge Playing cops for real, playing 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 And 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 doing something wicked?" No siree, Jack, we're just giving tickets Let's ride Ride, how we ride And ride Ride, how we ride And ride Ride, how we ride Let's ride Lowride |
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| 2. |
| 2:41 |
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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 rolling down the stairs, too drunk to fuck I'm too drunk to fuck I'm 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 I'm too drunk to fuck I'm too drunk to fuck Too drunk to fuck It's all I need right now, too drunk to fuck I'm too drunk to fuck I'm too drunk to fuck Too drunk to fuck I'm sick, soft, gooey and cold, too drunk to fuck I'm about to drop, my head's a mess My only salvation is I'll never see you again You give me head, it makes it worse Take out your fucking 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 |
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| 3. |
| 3:27 | 
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| 4. |
| 3:01 |
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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 The dogs run around your toes You turn around, two eyes break you down Now who does that guy think he's staring 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 Saw 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'll bet you just don't care |
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| 5. |
| 1:40 |
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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? Where did he get that crazy smile? We all think he's really weird We all think he's really weird We never talk to him He never looks quite right He laughs at us so 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 We never talk to him He never looks quite right He laughs at us so we just beat him up What he sees escapes our sight We're all planning our careers We're all planning our careers We're all planning our careers He says we're growing old |
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| 6. |
| 2:40 |
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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 your senior year All you care about is your career It's your life sentence Life sentence Life sentence Life sentence You're squelching your emotions All you talk about is old times You don't do what you want to But you do the same thing everyday No sense of humor But such good manners Now you're an adult You're boring It's your life 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 and it'll snap your neck You say you'll break out But you never do You're just another ant in the hill It's your life sentence Life sentence Life sentence Life sentence Life sentence Life sentence Life sentence |
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| 7. |
| 0:55 |
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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 You know some people Don't take no shit Maybe if they did They'd have half a brain left |
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| 8. |
| 3:45 |
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So you been to school for a year or two
And you know you've seen it all In daddy's car thinking you'll go far Back east your type don't crawl Play ethnicky jazz to parade your snazz On your five-grand stereo Bragging 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 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 sneetch, 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 And 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 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 Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot It's a holiday in Cambodia Where you'll do what you're told A holiday in Cambodia Where the slums got so much soul Pol Pot! |
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| 9. |
| 2:18 |
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Drinking beer in the hot sun
I fought the law and I won, I fought the law and I won I needed sex and I got mine I fought the law and I won, 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 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, I fought the law and I won Gonna write my book and make a million I fought the law and I won, 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 fought the law and I won I fought the law and I won I am the law so I won |
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| 10. |
| 4:20 |
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There's a prefab building and a funny smell
Around the hills 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 lamme I bow and blow the doorman He parts the chain, says "Join the game" A quick line in the girls room To the bar for the electrodes A coin into the right slit Tape my temple, watch me go Blacks are banned, except on the records Oh, life's a cabaret Like in Berlin, 1930 All I crave is my escape Now I want your perfect Barbie-doll lips And I want your perfect Barbie-doll eyes Run my fingers down your Barbie-doll dress Up and down your spandex ass If I lit a match for you You'd melt before my eyes Come here, my pretty glow worm You look so fine so dance with me The fly-eye lights are throbbing I'm burning up the floor Whirling, twirling Close my eyes, no faces judging me But 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 A Hitler youth in jogging suit Smiling face band '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 getting scared of my new home To Auschwitz condominiums we go 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 |
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| 11. |
| 5:52 |
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I'm tired of self-respect, I can't afford a car
I want to be a prefab superstar I want to be a tool, don't need no soul Want to 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 Fat ass 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... Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough For you to make me a star? Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far Give me a toot, 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 Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough For you to make me a star? Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough For you to make me a star? Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough For you to make me a star? Is my cock big enough, is my brain small enough For you to make me a star? Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far And drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool My Payola! Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool, drool My Payola! |
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| 12. |
| 0:28 |
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"Rick Wakeman, eat your heart out. Here we go!"
I like short songs I like short songs I like short songs I like short songs I like short songs I like short songs (I like short songs) I like short songs (I like short songs) I like short songs (I like short songs) I like short songs (I like short songs) I like short songs! |
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| 13. |
| 2:13 |
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| 14. |
| 4:18 |
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| 15. |
| 3:48 |
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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 leaving 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-size 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 |
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| 16. |
| 5:10 |
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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. |
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| 17. |
| 2:23 |
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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 a 110 Highway 50 and there's nobody there Sign says, 'Next sign 30 miles!'… My pension comes? Each penny saved buys more escape from home I'd rather carouse 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 |
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