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More RCR and some Squirrel Nut Zippers
Big Boss Lee
RCR
This town shuts down too damn soon
(We don't like it, we don't like it)
No dancin' room and no saloon
(We don't like it, we don't like it)
Got the itch, gotta scratch
Man there's just one catch
2 a.m. ain't good enough for me
If you want to know the score
When you're steppin' out the door
Grab the cash, forget the old ID
Just hang with me and you'll be singin'
Whoa, everybody knows
If you're thirsty after three
Got to talk to Mister Lee
Now Lee's a big ole' cat
With a big ole' baseball bat
All he wants is plenty dough-re-mi
Now the kids they wanna ball
And they hate to hear last call
Time to go and check on Mr. Lee
And we'll find a place where we can sing out
Whoa, everybody knows
Well if you're thirsty after three
Got to talk to Big boss Lee
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday the 13th
RCR
It was a fine left coast morning
And I found myself planted outside
The Cap 'N' Cork
Tipping back the hops
In order to calm my dancing hands
You see I usually don't play
The tied-up watchdog routine
Looking up and down the street
But this is the corner
Joey A., my car and I
Were supposed to meet
You see Joey The Amateur and I
Were out clinkin' glasses last night
When I got three sheets to an ill wind
Myself being in possession
Of a fine Double 5 Lincoln convert
Joey offered to skip me back to the crib
I awoke to a barren driveway
And a neighbor started to chide
"Joey dumped you off,
And he's got your ride!"
Black cats, they don't bother me
I smile in bad company
And I'm cool as the day is long
But takin' my car, daddy
That's dead wrong
It was now 11:22
And up scuffles Benny The Shoe
A real hot air merchant from way back
I inquired about Joey A.
And my superfine Lincoln
Then Mr. B.S. beat his gums
And testified to me,
"Joe's washing the short,
Changing da oil
He'll be here by three."
So the little hand hits three
And who should appear
But a Cuban cat named Geronimo
An upstanding cat
In the textile business
He said, "Joey knocked over a racketman
And is laying low for a few,
But in your trunk he left you some treasure
A pint of rye and a case of Slim Jim's
For your masticating pleasure
Now ten p.m. finds me
Hot as a hophead's zippo
When Rosie appears
On her financially motivated
Nightly exercise routine
I asked the whereabouts
Of the horsepower thief in question
And she shot me that amphetamine stare
And said, "Joey A.?
I just got out of his Lincoln
On Hollywood Way."
I thought
"Kill Joey A.!" when the bar keep came out
To simmer my slow boil
He said, "Joey A. just called on the blower,
He said you better skip town,
'Cause the cops got your ride.
You're wanted for solicitation,
Possession -- you owe him one,
And here's the scather." He said,
"And another thing cat,
Don't ask me for
Goddamn favors!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I like this standard
Stormy Weather
RCR
I don't know why there's no sun up in that sky
Stormy weather since me and my gal ain't together,
Keeps rainin' all the time
Life is bare, gloom and misery's everywhere
Stormy weather, can't get my poor self together
Keeps rainin' all the time
Well now, since you went away the blues walked in and met me
If you don't come back to stay
That rocking chair may get me
And I'll pray the Lord above will let me
Walk in the sun once more
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is this you dm?
Port-au-Prince
RCR
Small town beauty baby
Would-be movie queen
In '47, it seemed like heaven
Time to take it overseas
She beat it to the island
Of rum, romance and dreams
But Papa Doc's old choppin' block
Soon was gonna change the scene
Peering through the midnight vines
The pointed knives and the painted faces smile
Demon rum and beating drums
Untie the beast that's been there all her life
And all the while...
Winding through the curves in a big convertible
Trying to hide her eyes from the Haitian sun
But he left you cold in a blue eyed trance, girl
You better run now 'cause you gonna get no second chance
In Port-au-Prince
Crooked jet set livin'
With gold-toothed diplomats
Umbrella drinks, the whole thing stinks
Flipped a switch and that was that
Hey dark-hair Yankee lady
Please to suivez-moi
I look into that big cat's eyes and
I know what you come here for
Peering through the midnight vines...
Too bad little Bettie
But know it's time to leave
Your Yankee clout has just run out
They're gunnin' in the street
Crowded prop plane hummin'
Bound for NYC
The voodoo rite she saw that night
Baby how it set you free
------------------------------------------------------------------
You have to listen to this song and the drawn out bass
La Grippe
Squirrel Nut Zippers
There's a flu bug getting passed around
And it's spreading like fire through the town.
There's a virus holing up inside us.
Everyone that I know is coming down.
There's an Asian influenza
Infecting us all by the score.
And it's turning into pneumonia
We must go out once more.
There's a fool moon howling at the night
And it's bark is much worse than it's bite.
So we must go out and dance around
Yes we must go out tonight.
So the doctors came on the evening train.
With their flasks and their caskets and vials.
Mass psychosis was the diagnosis
So we all cashed our checks and went wild.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
One last one for now
Hell
Squirrel Nut Zippers
People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet
This is a place where eternally
Fire is applied to the body
Teeth are extruded and bones are ground
And baked into cakes which are passed around
In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay
Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement , job skill and brain
And all the things you try to hide
Will be revealed on the other side.
Now the D and A and the M and the N and the A
And the T and the I-O-N
Loose your face
Loose your name
And get fitted for a suit of flames.
Big Boss Lee
RCR
This town shuts down too damn soon
(We don't like it, we don't like it)
No dancin' room and no saloon
(We don't like it, we don't like it)
Got the itch, gotta scratch
Man there's just one catch
2 a.m. ain't good enough for me
If you want to know the score
When you're steppin' out the door
Grab the cash, forget the old ID
Just hang with me and you'll be singin'
Whoa, everybody knows
If you're thirsty after three
Got to talk to Mister Lee
Now Lee's a big ole' cat
With a big ole' baseball bat
All he wants is plenty dough-re-mi
Now the kids they wanna ball
And they hate to hear last call
Time to go and check on Mr. Lee
And we'll find a place where we can sing out
Whoa, everybody knows
Well if you're thirsty after three
Got to talk to Big boss Lee
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday the 13th
RCR
It was a fine left coast morning
And I found myself planted outside
The Cap 'N' Cork
Tipping back the hops
In order to calm my dancing hands
You see I usually don't play
The tied-up watchdog routine
Looking up and down the street
But this is the corner
Joey A., my car and I
Were supposed to meet
You see Joey The Amateur and I
Were out clinkin' glasses last night
When I got three sheets to an ill wind
Myself being in possession
Of a fine Double 5 Lincoln convert
Joey offered to skip me back to the crib
I awoke to a barren driveway
And a neighbor started to chide
"Joey dumped you off,
And he's got your ride!"
Black cats, they don't bother me
I smile in bad company
And I'm cool as the day is long
But takin' my car, daddy
That's dead wrong
It was now 11:22
And up scuffles Benny The Shoe
A real hot air merchant from way back
I inquired about Joey A.
And my superfine Lincoln
Then Mr. B.S. beat his gums
And testified to me,
"Joe's washing the short,
Changing da oil
He'll be here by three."
So the little hand hits three
And who should appear
But a Cuban cat named Geronimo
An upstanding cat
In the textile business
He said, "Joey knocked over a racketman
And is laying low for a few,
But in your trunk he left you some treasure
A pint of rye and a case of Slim Jim's
For your masticating pleasure
Now ten p.m. finds me
Hot as a hophead's zippo
When Rosie appears
On her financially motivated
Nightly exercise routine
I asked the whereabouts
Of the horsepower thief in question
And she shot me that amphetamine stare
And said, "Joey A.?
I just got out of his Lincoln
On Hollywood Way."
I thought
"Kill Joey A.!" when the bar keep came out
To simmer my slow boil
He said, "Joey A. just called on the blower,
He said you better skip town,
'Cause the cops got your ride.
You're wanted for solicitation,
Possession -- you owe him one,
And here's the scather." He said,
"And another thing cat,
Don't ask me for
Goddamn favors!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
I like this standard
Stormy Weather
RCR
I don't know why there's no sun up in that sky
Stormy weather since me and my gal ain't together,
Keeps rainin' all the time
Life is bare, gloom and misery's everywhere
Stormy weather, can't get my poor self together
Keeps rainin' all the time
Well now, since you went away the blues walked in and met me
If you don't come back to stay
That rocking chair may get me
And I'll pray the Lord above will let me
Walk in the sun once more
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Is this you dm?
Port-au-Prince
RCR
Small town beauty baby
Would-be movie queen
In '47, it seemed like heaven
Time to take it overseas
She beat it to the island
Of rum, romance and dreams
But Papa Doc's old choppin' block
Soon was gonna change the scene
Peering through the midnight vines
The pointed knives and the painted faces smile
Demon rum and beating drums
Untie the beast that's been there all her life
And all the while...
Winding through the curves in a big convertible
Trying to hide her eyes from the Haitian sun
But he left you cold in a blue eyed trance, girl
You better run now 'cause you gonna get no second chance
In Port-au-Prince
Crooked jet set livin'
With gold-toothed diplomats
Umbrella drinks, the whole thing stinks
Flipped a switch and that was that
Hey dark-hair Yankee lady
Please to suivez-moi
I look into that big cat's eyes and
I know what you come here for
Peering through the midnight vines...
Too bad little Bettie
But know it's time to leave
Your Yankee clout has just run out
They're gunnin' in the street
Crowded prop plane hummin'
Bound for NYC
The voodoo rite she saw that night
Baby how it set you free
------------------------------------------------------------------
You have to listen to this song and the drawn out bass
La Grippe
Squirrel Nut Zippers
There's a flu bug getting passed around
And it's spreading like fire through the town.
There's a virus holing up inside us.
Everyone that I know is coming down.
There's an Asian influenza
Infecting us all by the score.
And it's turning into pneumonia
We must go out once more.
There's a fool moon howling at the night
And it's bark is much worse than it's bite.
So we must go out and dance around
Yes we must go out tonight.
So the doctors came on the evening train.
With their flasks and their caskets and vials.
Mass psychosis was the diagnosis
So we all cashed our checks and went wild.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
One last one for now
Hell
Squirrel Nut Zippers
People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet
This is a place where eternally
Fire is applied to the body
Teeth are extruded and bones are ground
And baked into cakes which are passed around
In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow there'll be Hell to pay
Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement , job skill and brain
And all the things you try to hide
Will be revealed on the other side.
Now the D and A and the M and the N and the A
And the T and the I-O-N
Loose your face
Loose your name
And get fitted for a suit of flames.
that song..............thanks meathead
not whining, just stating a fact. i miss mike, my chubby red head with skin like the purest white rose. there all Stabbing Westward songs..one of his fav bands.
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