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

Chorus
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.

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

The Tragic Fall of King Pigg

There was a Would Be King
Who said the election was rigged
He could have won with ease
Just touting his Warp Speed

He shot himself in the hoof
Spreading lies, hate and guff
He sold all the wrong things
And lost his bid for King

His advisors were Court Jesters
Set King Pigg up to Fester
They set him up to fail
He could end up in jail

The moral of the story
An amazing fall from glory
From Greatest Political Rise
To The Pigg The World Despises