Haters Hoedown

Its summer time
And you know what
Kick your neighbor
In the nuts

Pick your partners
Choose them well
Everyone else
Can go to hell

Haters Hoedown
White National Pride
Hunt down Congress
Make them hide

Extra points
For politicians if
You don't like
Their disposition

Dance around
The dee cee doh
Charlottesville was
The first to go

Who'll be next
What's your guess
Targets of
These Terrorists

Get the gallows
Hang em' high
Watch the bastards
Choke and die

We do it all
For the genius man
He'll give us riches
That's his plan

It's a Haters Hoedown
Here's the low down
People we don't like
We'll mow down

Praise The Lard!

Praise The Lard and Pass The Ammo!
Praise the Lard
Pass the ammo
Russian Roulette
Is your gamble

Load that gun
Pull the trigger
Now you feel
So much bigger

Praise the Lard
Church and state
Christian Soldiers
Nationalist hate

Send your money
To the rich
There's nothing left
You stupid bitch

Take up sides
Against ourselves
Hate your brother
Everyone else

Work for evil
Men of greed
Men in power
The devils seed

Money changers
Profits (prophets) of doom
Take your money
Give you gloom

Its too late
You'll never learn
Smell the smoke
As America Burns

Today’s song came about after I wrote the bass line – I wanted it to be sort of punk-ish – and simple blues progression came out – which is somewhat related – since many garage bands first learn very simple blues progressions and repeat them ad nauseum.

I usually get my lyrics ideas from either “current events”, historical events or inventions, nature, or one of my many Assemblage pieces – and today’s is using an Assemblage as my guide. The vocals also begged to be sung as if I were a Televangelist. Hey – I will use this approach again – it infuses comedy in a way that really works well.

The vocals are influenced by listening to Primus do “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver” – which is hilarious – as most Primus songs are.

Radio KRY

Combining photographic images, but portraying them as sound. This and the last post and song are about Pathos – and how every day we get good and bad news – and then apply our filters accordingly.

Radio KRY
Wink of the eye
Nod of the head
The sounds that you'll hear
On Radio KRY

Sideways glance
Looking awry
The sounds you'll hear
On Radio KRY

Second opinion
You're going to be fine
The sounds you'll hear
On Radio KRY

Intimate portrait
High key light
Sounds you'll hear
On Radio KRY

Decisive moment
Plane in flight
The sounds you'll hear
On Radio KRY

Surrealistic scene
Lips in the sky
The sounds you'll hear
On radio KRY

Spanning the globe
Spinning the dial
We're in your ears
We're Radio KRY

KRY Radio

I’ll have a series of photographs and maybe songs related to this microphone and or KRY Radio. Stay tuned.

The bottom end
Of your radio dial
The saddest station
K - R - Y

The bad news hits
Shades the light
There are no answers
K - R - Y

Middle of the road
Everything you like
Your home station
K - R - Y

Sounds of the times
Days of your lives
Keep your dial tuned to
K - R - Y

When good news hits
Ascend new heights
Tears of joy
K - R - Y

At the top
Of your radio dial
The happy station
K - R - Y

Tears of Darkness
Tears of Light
Turn your dial to
K - R - Y

Theatre de Absurd

When life
Is stranger than fiction
And you try to make sense
Of an alien diction

Embrace the strange
Don't hold back
You just never know
What's down the track

What's down the track
Could seal your fate
From just another day
To a future that's great

I Was Born For The Stage

I might finally be over my fear of singing and thinking my voice is awful.

Here’s the funny back story of that last song. Michael Stipe, one of a handful of my favorite rock singers, used to love to do a bad Elvis impression. I thought, “What if I tried a Michael Stipe impression of him singing Elvis Style.

My wife and a few others said, no joke, it’s not terrible singing. I really do want to sing I’ve been deathly afraid of it …..

I was born for the stage
I was born to sing
Countless fans adore me
For my uncertain gift

My heart is on fire
I'm alight with desire
To paint the town red
Everyone is my friend

My adoring fans
Call me Saint
Its my singing
And the sounds that I paint


Zero Three See
Means you're out of memory
You must re-IPL
To break this evil spell

Control Alt Delete
The reboot is complete
Now you're on your way
Go about your day

Hold the button down
The cell phone will rebound
When it doesn't compute
You must reboot

The Flying Time Paradox

Time flies when you're having fun
Therein lies the quirk
You want to have more time for fun
But that's not how it works

The more time that you get
The faster that extra time flies
Its better than the alternative
Your life you could despise

If you want more time
Live your life in misery
Then the days will never end
Just you wait and see

I'll take fast but fun
That's always been my plan
Live a super fast happy life
Enjoy it while you can

Wishing Well

Be Careful What You Wish For
I used to feel
So Overlooked
The great unknown
I felt Forsook

Then I saw
The 27 Club
Ex Famous people
The Ultimate Snub

It seems so strange
To have it all
Which then began
Their great downfall

These famous people
In their prime
Self made prison
Doing time

I'm glad I've had
Enough Recognition
You can drown
In the well you're wishing

Intergalactic Collect Call

Late at night
The message arrived
From Centauri Sector Nine
A chill went up my spine

Through the static crash
I heard a muffled voice
The being on the phone
Shrieked and then moaned

The message then got clear
I heard it with both ears
The voice said in great fear
"We've just run out of beer!"