MORE SONG TITLES AND IDEAS. THEY'RE NOT ANY GOOD BUT THEY SOUND ALRIGHT. THE FIRST ONE IS MY ODE TO ALL OF THE T.A.G.'S WITH EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS. THE LESS PEOPLE OCCUPYING SPACE AT TATOO PARLORS, PIERCING CENTERS, HOT TOPIC SHOPS, AND KMFDM SHOWS....THE BETTER.
Teenage American Girls (aren't killing themselves enough)
The sunshine's just right for a race war
Cook me something to eat
Watch your fucking mouth
My wife won't kill me (and neither will god)
Prostitute Milkshakes
Kill To Eat
Offensive Bitch
Backhand City
Japanese Switchblade
Hacksaw Filling Removal
Useless Bitch
Forever Young (and buried)
A pair of silly bitches
Can it, shit for brains
Sandbaggin' Toddlers
Lock the cunt in the tiger cage
Where's The LSD?
Keep working out, stud
Spool of fishing wire
I couldn't choke enough life out of you
Slap me till I'm human
There's a big pool of anit-freeze where my heart used to be
Friendly Bitch (Suzie Handshake)
Autopsy-Free Poisoning
Painting The Orphanage (with blood)
Point and Blame
Carefree shoppers and mini-guns
El Salvadoran Death Squad
Mexican Working Song
Irish up this soda, fuckface
Why can't we kill anyone anymore?
Satan can't hack it anymore
Safety Town Lessons For Tots
Less People, Less Flapping Jaws
Don't worry, drop the bomb cause there is no hell.
Gardening Tips
I just wanna fit in and be loved
They just don't stone people anymore
Laughing at funerals, laughing at rape victims, crying when the sun rises.
Napalm isn't worth it (when you got hungry dogs)
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Peter Brotzmann "Machine Gun"
Updated Portion- I figured I could write some lyrics for one of the tunes. I liked El Salvadoran Death Squad the best.
My linen smells like shit
My parents are flappin their jaws
Talkin' bout right and wrong
and how to make peace with god
I tell 'em bout the irony
There's enough of it to go around
By them fulfilling their American dreams.
Killers get a new plate in their armor
(chorus)
El Salvadoran Death Squad
Oh woah woah
Carvin' up youngins with machetes
woah woah woah
Keep on passin' the buck
They'll migrate just like killer bees
Tryin to give my dad a heart attack
Tell him about my affairs with black men
Suckin on artist cock
He's still wavin' that flag
Waitin for his ship to come in
CHORUS
Keep votin' for actors
And watchin' sitcoms
and readin Maxim
and going to the movies
and shopping for nick-nacks
three holes in the barn wall and only one dick
I don't mind dyin as long as I get to see you chopped up by...
CHORUS
Maybe I can put together on more song for you all.
I see you getting fat
and fixing your hair
Aqua Net and Dippity Do
Every time you open your mouth
I wonder if there is a god
CHORUS
The kinda Buicks Springsteen Sings about.
Are going to take you to BackHand City.
I'm past the point of right and wrong
I just want to see you in physical pain
I see you got your Cosmo
You've got chocolate and Febreeze too
Killing you would be much too easy
I'm thinking about an injection of AIDS
CHORUS
So you have to buy new spandex pants
Cause that pie went right to your ass
What's great about the AIDS idea
Is that my work aint got health insurance.
Send me to hell
pick the skin from my bones for eternity
It'll all be heaven, for a few years without you.
CHORUS
Well, maybe just one more. Don't worry,I'm not one-sided with hate. The guys will get their just desserts as well.
You've been drinking alot of vodka
and dancing with strange men
Looks like you want to get fucked
Hey, we're living in a free country
Take it where you wanna
Take it when you wanna
I'll be laughing outside
Teenage American Girls
Just Aren't dying enough
Suicide Rates are down
Ted Bundy is dead and buried CHORUS
Teenage American Girls
Just Aren't Dying Enough
So you started crying at the AIDS clinic
Maybe three cocks in one night was the jackpot
Stupid fucking American whore
careless and self serving
Maybe I'll send you a get well card
for your newfound uncurable disease
CHORUS
Watch out for that common cold
It could be a doozy
Your parents are making you out as a martyr
In the local, shit for brains press
Not much a polishing can do
Those ass fucking pictures are on the net
CHORUS
You thought only fags get the big one
you were dead wrong, cunt
No more getting that sports medicine degree
No more looking for slut clothing
No more Conan O Brien and college pizza
Just make sure you die slow, for me
CHORUS
you were gonna take an art class
you were getting so liberated
Well, you look like an Auschwitz Inmate
In the Revlon age, of course
Time is running out, bitch
Who says there aint no justice anymore?
CHORUS
Teenage American Girls (aren't killing themselves enough)
The sunshine's just right for a race war
Cook me something to eat
Watch your fucking mouth
My wife won't kill me (and neither will god)
Prostitute Milkshakes
Kill To Eat
Offensive Bitch
Backhand City
Japanese Switchblade
Hacksaw Filling Removal
Useless Bitch
Forever Young (and buried)
A pair of silly bitches
Can it, shit for brains
Sandbaggin' Toddlers
Lock the cunt in the tiger cage
Where's The LSD?
Keep working out, stud
Spool of fishing wire
I couldn't choke enough life out of you
Slap me till I'm human
There's a big pool of anit-freeze where my heart used to be
Friendly Bitch (Suzie Handshake)
Autopsy-Free Poisoning
Painting The Orphanage (with blood)
Point and Blame
Carefree shoppers and mini-guns
El Salvadoran Death Squad
Mexican Working Song
Irish up this soda, fuckface
Why can't we kill anyone anymore?
Satan can't hack it anymore
Safety Town Lessons For Tots
Less People, Less Flapping Jaws
Don't worry, drop the bomb cause there is no hell.
Gardening Tips
I just wanna fit in and be loved
They just don't stone people anymore
Laughing at funerals, laughing at rape victims, crying when the sun rises.
Napalm isn't worth it (when you got hungry dogs)
SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
Peter Brotzmann "Machine Gun"
Updated Portion- I figured I could write some lyrics for one of the tunes. I liked El Salvadoran Death Squad the best.
My linen smells like shit
My parents are flappin their jaws
Talkin' bout right and wrong
and how to make peace with god
I tell 'em bout the irony
There's enough of it to go around
By them fulfilling their American dreams.
Killers get a new plate in their armor
(chorus)
El Salvadoran Death Squad
Oh woah woah
Carvin' up youngins with machetes
woah woah woah
Keep on passin' the buck
They'll migrate just like killer bees
Tryin to give my dad a heart attack
Tell him about my affairs with black men
Suckin on artist cock
He's still wavin' that flag
Waitin for his ship to come in
CHORUS
Keep votin' for actors
And watchin' sitcoms
and readin Maxim
and going to the movies
and shopping for nick-nacks
three holes in the barn wall and only one dick
I don't mind dyin as long as I get to see you chopped up by...
CHORUS
Maybe I can put together on more song for you all.
I see you getting fat
and fixing your hair
Aqua Net and Dippity Do
Every time you open your mouth
I wonder if there is a god
CHORUS
The kinda Buicks Springsteen Sings about.
Are going to take you to BackHand City.
I'm past the point of right and wrong
I just want to see you in physical pain
I see you got your Cosmo
You've got chocolate and Febreeze too
Killing you would be much too easy
I'm thinking about an injection of AIDS
CHORUS
So you have to buy new spandex pants
Cause that pie went right to your ass
What's great about the AIDS idea
Is that my work aint got health insurance.
Send me to hell
pick the skin from my bones for eternity
It'll all be heaven, for a few years without you.
CHORUS
Well, maybe just one more. Don't worry,I'm not one-sided with hate. The guys will get their just desserts as well.
You've been drinking alot of vodka
and dancing with strange men
Looks like you want to get fucked
Hey, we're living in a free country
Take it where you wanna
Take it when you wanna
I'll be laughing outside
Teenage American Girls
Just Aren't dying enough
Suicide Rates are down
Ted Bundy is dead and buried CHORUS
Teenage American Girls
Just Aren't Dying Enough
So you started crying at the AIDS clinic
Maybe three cocks in one night was the jackpot
Stupid fucking American whore
careless and self serving
Maybe I'll send you a get well card
for your newfound uncurable disease
CHORUS
Watch out for that common cold
It could be a doozy
Your parents are making you out as a martyr
In the local, shit for brains press
Not much a polishing can do
Those ass fucking pictures are on the net
CHORUS
You thought only fags get the big one
you were dead wrong, cunt
No more getting that sports medicine degree
No more looking for slut clothing
No more Conan O Brien and college pizza
Just make sure you die slow, for me
CHORUS
you were gonna take an art class
you were getting so liberated
Well, you look like an Auschwitz Inmate
In the Revlon age, of course
Time is running out, bitch
Who says there aint no justice anymore?
CHORUS
cheech:
Jeez, um, there's some good lines in there at times but... a lil on the hostile side, my man. I'm not as big on the hostile-fun anymore; I'm moving away from the cynicism thing. I'm no moral giant, I guess I've been involved in (too many) mean jokes, but... um, might pursue the more picturesque psychedelia side of things? Like the "Irish up this soda, fuckface" thing? 
doctashock:
What's going on man? Do you need a vocalist for the noise-rock band, because I can use my voice of gold to make the music with my mouth. Oh yeah baby!