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Primus




Альбом Primus


Sailing The Seas Of Cheese (1991)
1991
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Sathington Waltz
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13.
. . .


When the going gets tough
And the stomach acids flow
The cold wind of conformity
Is nipping at your nose
When some trendy new atrocity
Has brought you to your knees
Come with us we'll sail the
Seas of Cheese

. . .


Here they come, here come the bastards
I heard it from a confidant
Who heard it from a confidant
They're definitely on their way

There's one with this idea
Something about a hammerhead shark
Nose hairs and flatus
Best keep your distance because

Here they come, here come the bastards
Bury your head deep in the sand
Anonymity is a virtue
In this day and age

Amazing hand dexterity
Flagrant misuse of security
Better run run run run run
Run run run run run

Here they come...

Here they come...

. . .


Sergeant Baker is my name
I'm gonna teach you how to play the game of warfare
Suddenly it appears to me
You got a bit much dignity for your own good, boy
(Yes sir, yes sir)

I will rape your personality
Pummel you with my own philosophy
Strip you of your self integrity
To make you all just a bit like me

I said right, left, right, left

Sergeant Baker, here again
And if you call me Puddin' Tame
Well, I'll stomp you down, boy
(Uh-huh)
Steers and queers, steers and queers
Where you come from there's just steers and queers
And you ain't got no horns, boy
(Yes sir, yes sir)

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

I say right, left, right, left
I say right, left, right, left

One, two...

Sergeant Baker is my name
I'm gonna teach you how to play the game of warfare
Suddenly it appears to me
You got a bit much dignity for your own good, boy
(Yes sir, yes sir)

I said right, left, right, left
(repeat)

. . .


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

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

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

. . .


Jerry was a race car driver
He drove so goddamned fast
He never did win no checkered flag
But he never did come in last
Jerry was a race car driver
He'd say "El Sob number one"
With a bocephus sticker on his 442
He'd light 'em up just for fun

Ahhhh
Ahhhh

Captain Pierce was a fireman
Richmond engine number three
I'll be a wealthy man when I get a dime
For all the things that man taught to me
Captain Pierce was a strong man
Strong as any man alive
It stuck in his craw
That they made him retire at the age of sixty five

Ahhhh
Ahhhh

Go!

"Hee hee hee! 'Dog will hunt!"

Ahhhh
Ahhhh

Jerry was a race car driver
Twenty two years old
Had too many cold beers one night
And wrapped himself around a telephone pole

. . .


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

. . .


My socks and shoes always match
Is it luck?

There's a foot at the end of each of my legs
Is it luck?

Well, I can play my bass for you
Is it luck?

Some gals like to kiss my face
Is it luck? Is it luck

Is it luck? x5
Is it luck, luck, luck, well is it?

There was food inside your mouth today
Is it luck?

Your barber cuts your hair just so
Is it luck?

Well, you can count to ten and back again
Is it luck?

When the taste of sex is on you lips
Is it luck? Is it luck?

Is it luck? x5

Is it luck, well is it?

Cyanide works oh so fast
Is it luck?

Polyester makes you sweat
Is it luck?

If a grahm cracker gets you off
Is it luck?

Love, Love?
Is it luck? Is it luck?

Is it luckx6

Is it luck, well is it?

Said she wanted my body, not my mind.
So, I showed her my dictionary,
Showed her the words that I know,
Not quite desiring to
And how loquacious I can be
When I set my mind down to it.
But she wasn't impressed.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!
She wasn't impressed at all
She whispered in my ear.
She whispered in my ear and she said
"Do you want to get lucky, little boy?"
Well, I smiled. Smiled and I said

Is it luck? x6
Is is luck?
Luck x17

Is it luck? x4

. . .


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

. . .


"Well I remember as though it were a meal ago,"

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

"She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit.
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the
oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days.
The sight was beyond belief.
Many a head snapped for double - even triple - takes as this vivacious
feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway,
where the most virile of the young tabbies were known to hang out.

They hung in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be
found in one place...
And that was O'Malley's Alley.

The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended),
But not even a muscle in her neck did twitch
as she sauntered straight into the heart of the alleyway.
She knew what she wanted.
She was lookin' for that stud bull; she was looking for that he cat.
And that was me.

Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto thee...

'Say baby do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby do you wanna lay down by my side?
Ah baby do you wanna lay down with me?
Say baby?...Say baby?'"

. . .

Sathington Waltz

[Нет текста]

. . .


I've seen them out at SocoThey're pounding sixteen penny nailsThe truckers on the interstateHave been known to ride the railsThe sweat is beating on the browCan't keep these fellas down'Cause those damned blue-collared tweekersAre runnin' this here town
I knew a man who hung drywallHe hung it mighty quickA trip or two to the blue roomWould help him do the trickHis foreman would pat him on the backWhenever he would come around'Cause these dammed blue-collar tweekersAre beloved in this here town

Now the union boys are thereTo protect us from all the corporate typeWhile curious George's drug patrolIs out here hunting snipeNow they try to tell me differentBut you know I ain't no clown'Cause those damned blue-collar tweekersAre the backbone of this town
Now the flame that burns twice as brightBurns only half as longMy eyes are growing wearyAs I finalize this songSo sit back and have a cup o' joeAnd watch the wheels go round'Cause those damned blue-collar tweekersHave always run this town

. . .


Felt a pang late one afternoon
I was fishin' off Muir beach
With Larry LaLonde
Grabbed a tuna salad sandwich
And I started to chew
Pretty soon Ler's yellin

Fish on. Fish on

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

Fish on

T'was a bright and sunny day
It was me and Todd Huth
Fishin' shark and Stingray
Out of Bohuas Lagoon

Well hey, hey, hey I'll be screwed,
Blued and tatooed
Looks like I got me one of them

Fish on. Fish on.

. . .


"You bastards!"

Here they come... (repeat)

"Shut up, you bastards!"
"You just called me a bastard, didn't you?"

. . .


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