Альбом Primus

What if Christmas didn't come this year
And no one paid for Christmas cheer
Who would cry the biggest tear
The child or the store
Why do brides wear virgin white
Most do not deserve that right
But to choose a color of their delight
Would surely bring on the frowns
To defy the laws of tradition is a crusade only only of the brave
Suppose the tax-man he comes to town
And you don't lay your money down
Yet Mr. Jones he killed
Mr. Brown the other day
Well I wonder, who's gonna go to hell

When I woke up this mornin' I felt a pang.
I was hungerin' for some apple pie.
Stumble in the bathroom, hung my hog a little bit.
Washed the sleep out of my eye.
Oh yeah, it's gonna be a fine day.
Scratched myself a bit.
Poured me out a bowl-a corn chex.
Closest thing I could find to apple pie.
Lingerin' taste of toothpaste
Made the milk go down a bit funny.
But you know, them chex they do satisfy.
Oh yeah, this'll be a fine day.
So, after my mornin' rise-n-shine and eat-n-clean.
Had my mind set to hit them streets.
Drizzle from the night left cold puddles out.
Had my black stomp-boots on my feet.
It's my day.

Since I was in kneepants my pop had tried to make me realize.
If I set my mind down to it I could be a big man in the public eye.
So with my big blue collar on, I set out to find the easy way.
What an ice cold bath it was when I found you had to pay to play.
To taste the taste it's a tease that never would subside.
The taste is strong but soured by my learned eyes.
Well, if a woodchuck could chuck wood, he'd get down on his knees to pray.
This little snappy boy might see the light this ground hog's day.

Too many puppies are being shot in the dark
Too many puppies are trained not to bark
At the sight of blood that must be spilled
So that we may maintain our oil fields
Too many puppies
Too many puppies
Too many puppies are taught to heel
Too many puppies are trained to kill
On the command of men wearing money belts
That buy mistresses sleek animal pelts
Too many puppies
Too many puppies
Too many puppies
Too many puppies
Too many puppies with guns in their hands
Too many puppies in foreign lands
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green
And placed upon the war machine
Too many puppies are just like me
Too many puppies are afraid to see
The visions of the past brought to life again
Too many puppies
Too many dead men

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I will not compromise.
I will not be told what to do.
I shall not step aside.

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I have no time to waste.
My mouth it spews pure intellect.
And I've such elegant taste.

They call me Mr. Knowitall.
I sup the aged wine.
Oh I could tell such wonderous tales
if I should find the time.

I must be Mr. Knowitall
For ideas they come in bounds.
I am Mr. Knowitall
So spread the word around.

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name
And whatever rhymes with eloquent.

Hello all you boys and girls
I'd like to take you to the inside world
It's quite an irregular place to be
But never fear you're safe with me
Well, maybe

Golden hair of macramé
Against the face that's cut from stone
The white porcelain is screaming ayee
Thank God the boy is not alone

I don't believe in Santa Claus
I don't believe in spite
I have no use for beauty dolls
Especially on this night
I don't believe in miracles
I don't believe in lies
I don't believe in hologram
For I am the Frizzle Fry

Andy's painted green again
This time they might take him away
When Barrington starts to breath again
It may just take us all away

I don't believe in charity
I don't believe in sin
And if you don't believe in me
We'll play this tune over again
I don't believe in Pinochle
And I don't believe I'll try
I do believe in Captain Crunch
For I am the Frizzle Fry
Yes I am the Frizzle Fry

One...two...
One, two, three, four

When he was young
You'd not find him doing well in school
His mind would turn unto the waters
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule
He has no time for farmers' daughters
Alienated from the clique society
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing
His mother says
"John, this is not the way life's supposed to be"
"Don't you see the life that you miss?"

And he says...

When I grow up, I want to be
One of the harvesters of the sea
I think, before my days are done
I want to be a fisherman

Now years gone by, we find the man who rules the sea
He sets out on a dark May morning
To bring his catch back to this small community
He doesn't see the danger dawning
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled
The fog rolled in, it started raining
"The starboard bow! Oh my God we're going down!"
They do not hear his frantic mayday

And he says...

When I grow up, I want to be
One of the harvesters of the sea
I think, before my days are done
I want to be a fisherman
"I'll live and die a fisherman"
Calling John the Fisherman...

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An over aged boy of thirty-nine has left the wing today
The first time in his life he's made that step
Be numbed by the society and plagued by insecurity
He's entered a race that must be won
One of the animals has left it's cage today
In search of better things, so it seems to be
But in this land of polyurethane
Things are apt to get a bit hot

As the toys go winding down

C.G. the Mexican is a friend of mine
We used to sit around the house watching Evil Dead
Talking about the way it used to be...
We used to pull the stripers out of San Pablo Bay
Now the delta waters go down So.Cal.
And the stripers start to fade away
It's pudding time
It's pudding time!

As the toys go winding down

You can have a lolly pop
A candy bar a jelly bean
I'll buy you a rainbow
To hang above your door
It's pudding time
Laughter is a sweet
You can't put a price on
When laughter's all gone
Daddy won't buy you more
It's pudding time
It's pudding time children
Money money money
To buy you things
Daddy's gonna buy you
A diamond ring

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the kings horses and all the kings men
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

San Francisco Bay
The Striped Bass are dying
But you're gonna get
That brand new bike
Oh joy
It's pudding time
It's pudding time children

We are gathered here today
In these majestic halls of old
To honor a man they call
Sathington Willoughby
There's a joke or two
A pun or three
I feel that must be told
Then I go on to speak of
Sathington Willoughby
Sathington Willoughby
The legislator that penned us up a bill
That banned the use of certain things
Like this and that

Why do we do this C.G. and I?
Every night vegetables
Minds numbed up by THC
I've got my pen, C.G. the remote
Laurel and Hardy's the best bet at four A.M. on a Friday
No dreads about the working day after though
Funny thing about weekends when you're unemployed
They don't quite mean so much
Except you get to hang out with all your working friends
Well we got us a spaghetti western on 36
I like spaghetti westerns
I like the way the boots are all reverbed out
Walking across the hardwood floors
In fact, everything's got
That big reverb sound
Well what'll I do now?
Go to sleep
Pull the pud
We need new pornos
Well, I guess I'm still writing

It was a weekend's eve,
I had sex on my breath
I was lookin' for somethin' to see.
With a borrowed black leather
And my best fishin' hat.
Well, it was just Wendy O. and me.

We called old Swamp
Up on the telephone
And said we was comin' on
Down to pick him up
And then, he said,
"Hey Swampy, me and Greeny'll come along -

But only if we can bring a friend."
"His name is Harold."
I said "Okay."

Now, we had a
Swamper, Greeny, Wendy O, Stanley,
Harold of the Rocks and me.
We hopped into my dart
And headed for the nightbreak
To see a man they call Schooly D.

Harold he's a friendly guy.
He rambles on and on.
He'll talk the balls off a rhinosaurus.
Fact is, he just doesn't make much sense.

"Well", Stan said.
"This guy's pretty bizarre, Gus."

Harold of the Rocks.

I saw Harold at a party
Trouzy threw late one night.
I said, "hey man,
Do you remember me?"
He said, "O' course
I do Snapdad and
Let me tell ya right
'Bout now I'm lit
Up like an ol' Christmas tree."

Hey bro you know I'd
Like to thank you once again for lettin' me
Hang with ya' all across the bay.
When I look back at that night I get me a
Warm spot across my heart."
Then he shook my hand, and walked away.
That's the last I seen of Harold.

Harold of the Rocks.

So in the end,
Swamper and Greeny
Finally succumb to
The ways of Harold.
And in doing so
Each gave just a little bit
Of his soul away.
What a couple of dumb shits.

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