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1. |
Wadge - Gone Native
00:44
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Bust out the chisels
Drag down the scar
Open the old wound
Froth up the bar
Staining the tiki
Deep seeps the blood
Watch as it animates
All that you are
More than feeling
Hard to describe
You’re in or you’re out
Dead or alive
This one Marquesan
The next just may be
From Rapa Nui
Or old Hawai’i
Suffering bastard hanging low
Off the wall, straight to the rum they go
Sanded dong girth smooth like King Kong
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2. |
Wadge - Tiki Merchants
00:34
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Warriors of Tiki unchained to rule the night
Samoans and Hawaiians join to do it fucking right
Guzzling the strongest sarce
Show all who’s the fucking Barse
Like beef? Moke buss dem chops
Say goodbye to eye, cyclops
Tiki merchants stand in moonlight with detailed clubs of war
Soils of the islands shake - run for the hut and fucking quake
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3. |
Wadge - I'm Shrinking
01:06
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You’ve got a head now gimme it
Lop it off your shoulders, don’t throw a fit
Lost art coming back in my basement
I call boss what they call defacement
Take one cranium and peel the wrap
Sew the eyes, sew the lips of some sap
Boil it and treat it to some heated stone
Now I’m never gonna be alone
Walls display covered my army of heads
Decked out in armor to battle the feds
No one can stop us we’re ready to die
On miniature ponies into glory ride
With MANOWAR blasting triumphant our fight
Spikes, steel and arrows on this righteous night
My legion of little heads shrunken to form
Victory lies in the eye of the storm
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4. |
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What’s that smell, fucking hell
Hippies on the beach
We surf, off our turf
You goddamn scum!
Bang your drums all day long
Pot-addled grin
Here’s a fistbow for your troubles
Put that in your bong
Patchouli is burning and my stomach’s churning
Think I’m gonna puke
Adding deep red to your tie-dyed shirt
Here comes the leiomano
Cowering, whining, blubbering, screaming
As blows beat down the plague
Get back to the jungle to hide in your tree house
Get off the beach!
You fucking hippy
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5. |
Wadge - Aloha Hell
00:43
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1941, USS West Virginia
Ariel torpedoes racing like steel shark
Dropped into the water to ignite their cremation
Ripping right through as if made out of tin
Abandon ship
All who can
Say goodbye
To life and limb
But three men didn’t make it off
Although they breathed in tact
For sixteen days they lived submerged
Sixteen days to be
For sixteen days to contemplate
A slow and lingering death
Their clanging cries did not go unheard
Nothing could be done
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6. |
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Absolute glimpglod overlords
With vintage mugs and not an ounce of fun
You might as well be Pokemon obsessed
Know-it-all geeks reigning this little world
You nerds!
Although I may love what you collect
That doesn’t mean that you deserve my respect
You schmucks!
Tiki snobs, fuck off!
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7. |
Wadge - Schizzo Surf
01:04
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In the dead of night as the full moon glows
All the surfers race to the beach in throes
Grab their boards and get ready for the coming beast
Like a mountain of liquid death
With a tiki pendant around the neck
Paddles out into the fury catching much respect
There it builds, here it comes, frothing at the mouth
North Shore, scream gore like Chuck
Rise onto thy feet
Too late to retreat
Jaw now opens wide
Swallowed whole inside
Deafening thunder, sucked in and spit
Projectile of flesh quickly losing all shit
Mano circle and race trailing flames
Almost get buss’ up by da kapu ride
Fluid embers, scorching steam
Schizzo surf, molten cube to gleam
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8. |
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(chorus)
Self-improvement out of reach
A goal that's unachievable
Failed attempts at excellence
Disappointing one and all
I try to be a better listener
Drifting into space
Failed attempts at excellence
And falling on my face
(chorus)
Eliminate distractions
Free up time for something more
But, I'm drinking beer and smoking
While I should be playing guitar
Purple bracelets ordered
From a world free of complaints
But complaining more than ever
Never bringing on a change
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9. |
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Combing through the thrift stores
Snatching up discarded tapes
Let's find a band and do a split
Five minutes on each side
Printing out new labels
Slap them on and sell as new
Bands sit back and have a laugh
Their releases piling high
You care more about the format
Than the music it contains
Releasing thirty copies
So it sells out in a day
Lathes replacing proper runs
So scarcity's attained
Special covers printed
All hand-numbered for your tests
Sell them all on eBay
use that cash to fund the press
Count me out (x4)
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10. |
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Blast away and never aim
Just spray with no regrets
If you're a Ms., you'll sit in piss
That toilet seat's a mess
The soap dispenser's empty
And the trash is overfilled
Wipe, flush, wash & leave
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11. |
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Alleviating boredom with wholesome family fun
Packing up the kids and taking them to the park
Bleached white flour, corn syrup and dyes
Your choice of food leads to their demise
Lucky Charms and Frosted Flakes
Garlic bread in hand
Scores of birds gobbling up
The Junk these monsters throw
Warnings from the DNR
Insisting that we stop
Or it's type II diabetes
As their sugar levels grow
Packing on weight
Too fat to get off the ground
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12. |
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Driving down a gravel road
And hauling stolen meat
A loaded-down truck
With what I'm guessing could be beef
Beard-a-swingin', pits-a-stinkin'
Giving his best pitch
Then the Amish people clean him out
A deal they can't resist
Stomachs cramp while sweating buckets
Dropped down to their knees
Lack of refrigeration
Takes it's toll on graying meat
Bloody stools-a-plenty
As e.coli virus spreads
The meat truck driver exists town
His pockets lined with bread
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13. |
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Pink slime and cellulose
Artificially enhanced
Plastic wrapped chicken parts
With breasts pumped full of water
Not so much food, as much as steaming piles of shit
There's watered-down nutrition on our plates
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14. |
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Scoping the clubs for beav'
Making a splash in the swinger's scene
"A round of drinks for the babes"
A mustache free of irony
Is growing on your face
Tar-stained fingers and paedo-glasses
Rounding out your look
The 70s have came and gone
But no one told you so
So, here you sit, stuck in time
Oblivious to change
Shave that fucking mustache off your face
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15. |
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You're stuck in a rut
And you're ready for change
You've been playing for years
And have a name that's well-known
Side-projects form
Reflecting your change in tastes
But none of them are good enough
To stand on their own
Drumming up sales by way of association
"Featuring members of so-and-so band"
A new band forms for each style of music
Designing logos that all look the same
Your solo project evolves into something else
So you break up the band only to start another
Now you've got five of them under your belt
Soon you'll be doing splits with your own bands
Too scared to take chances with the music you play
Just start releasing everything under one fucking name
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16. |
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All-girl mosh pit
Baby doll tees and tattered jeans
All-girl mosh pit
A median age of seventeen
Aqua Net and estrogen
Mixing in with sweat
Flabby arms and limp wrists
Push against young, supple breasts
Voices raised while pumping fists
A frenzied, nubile bunch
Falls just short of cat fight
In my pants an awkward lump
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17. |
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(instrumental)
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