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Pleasure Island: Just one more night of drunken rebellion drunken rebellion X-Games style, brain falls out your ass & your dick gets hard, time to test your fists on the dance floor. Drunken superman flies into the wall, short term trophy mate smiles at the warrior fallen. This is how time passes here, sea of fists and beer, they’ll get their donkey ears soon enough.

K-Hole: Techno-trouble, drug dazed, you should be raving along with the techno beat but inside a k-hole you can’t move or speak. Drug zombie! And it could be the eye glitter but can’t you see you’ve had too much of this thing? This thing you call a scene. You need to take drugs just to make it bearable - stuck in a k-hole couldn’t fit through the keyhole.

Double Plus Good Duck Speak: Your head a vast repository, all data contained is patently true outside audit error correction will result in a hardy fuck you. Shit in your ears gets shat out your mouth, cannon’led truth comes bleating out.

Another State Of Mine: A disgruntled state of mind and that’s the story of my life, Live by the sword - die by the knife. I don’t even try to socialize, I recoil, prefer the silent way, It’s all I’ve ever known, It’s my home here. Do you think I really give a fuck about what you’ve got to say? Born too late to understand just go away, a form with out a substance I don’t want this. crazy on the ship of fools but this vessel sails only one, something I should tell you: fuck you and your fun, pulled up stakes left town, left back, let down.

Scripture Squad: Morality - let me put it this way - the next time I fucking hear you say “Have you accepted jesus christ into your heart of hearts” I’m gonna jam that bible up your ass. Close your eyes, close your eyes and pray. Close your eyes, close your eyes to the world. Infiltration -Gap clad Scripture squad youth with a mission, wearing nose rings for god. Face glazed over in beatitude, you have all the answers, that’s why I don’t believe you.

A Is My Favorite Key: A is my favorite key -fuck E!!!

Jar With Lid: Jar with lid, the longest chain, see the world from the longest chain, view the world on the longest chain, jar with lid, the longest chain.

Small Town, Smaller Minds: Inbred expressions- expressions of rage hopes dashed at some tender age (the) life on TV’s so hard to obtain, magazines and commercials are left to ingrain the hopelessness and death of this shit town, jump ship now or run aground. Small town, smaller minds, two modes of thought - fuck or fight. Social nomad in search of greener grass, try entertain me with your thumb up your ass, the world might end if you use your brain. Default instead to cruising Main, so raise your beer to the sky with a rebel yell, begin the mass exodus of your brain cells. Small town, smaller minds, two modes of thought - fuck or fight.

Whitewash: He put his fist through the wall -he pissed he missed, he was aiming for his fucking wife, next day they’ll cover up his anger with plaster and a spackling knife. Family portrait - sailing and content, covers the holes of the latest round of violence. Welcome to the double victim effect (life) under the fist - all ties lost subject of scorn to your face ignored, so throw on another coat of whitewash. The neighbors - turn their TV’s louder, take mental notes for over the fence fodder.

Already Dead: I’m ready to die but not for you, I haven’t seen the light, but I’ve seen through the lies that you tell and the shit that you spew, and the excuses you make for the things that you do. It’s all bullshit - I’ve got a stack of flyers denouncing it. It’s all bullshit - but I keep on living - living it. Subtle propaganda, corporate logo wearing pride pile slogans on top of slogans ‘til we’re lost inside, brand loyalty instilled early on in life, loyal customer ‘til you reach the great mini-mall in the sky. It’s all bullshit - I’ve got a stack of flyers denouncing it. It’s all bullshit - but I keep on living - living it.

Grape Juice Plus: Slow brain is moving slow, Soak skull sunk booze soaked, Choke - naming my own poison, picture just one place to get booze - line’s a mile long, piss water makes it alright when everything’s wrong. “Don’t stop believing, hold onto that feeling streetlights, people.” -(Perry, Schon.)

The Beaded Marauder: Eyes point down, the floor is the view. I can’t stand to look at you, close my eyes, count to 10 or should I just kick your ass again. I hate you rockstar poseur - fuck you. you move away, then move back again. You’re a dying trend. It’s not the arms race it’s not the human race, stomp on your face - until you fuck off. He’s the same, she’s the same, seasons change, scene’s the same. seasons always change - scene stays the same, play by their rules, play the game. today you are my friend, tomorrow forget my name, I fucking hate you rockstar poseur. fuck you.

Building Mountains Out Of Bullshit: Today - today’s the fucking day I’ll shut up and go away, but hold that chorus of approval ‘til I’ve turned the fuck away. Sulk in the corner, take shit like a man, translation: take shit out, take shit out on everyone. You smashed my feelings, did a damn good job of stamping out my self-respect, but coming from a member of the human race what the hell else should I expect. Sulk in the corner, take shit like a man, translation: take shit out, take shit out on everyone. Should we talk, should we fight, should we fester in silence, should we ignore it, keep ignoring, keep ignoring, ‘til we’ve built - mountains out of bullshit.

Many Meaningless Words: Well now that we’ve thoroughly numbed ourselves there’s nothing left to do / but wallow in our idealistic dreams and argue points of view / but it’s all been said and done before - it’s falling on deaf ears/ our vision’s lost momentum ‘cause we couldn’t overcome our fears. Fuck that. As long as there’s one person left who still gives a shit/ as long as you’ve got arms and legs then you can still pitch a fit / as long as you can push off the shit that’s pushed onto you / as long as you have the sensitivity of mind to see what is true. But no - we don’t want that, too wrapped in personal glory / shout fuck the man and fuck the pigs while living the same old story / dreaming of some distant future while trapped in the past / is all this useless rhetoric the reason we finish last? Then laugh. Laugh in your face when they say you’re no good this love runs too fucking deep - something they never understood / the power to destroy is the power to create / as long as you haven’t been brainwashed into thinking it’s too late.

Ignorance Is Bliss: Ignorance is bliss and you’re fucking orgasmic still stumbling in the dark when the room’s fully lit, your actions are comic the results are tragic a useless body and a mind full of shit ...and it’s a small minded world after all. Can’t see the real problem ‘til it’s right in your face even then you’ll try to explain it away with your fucking backward logic and your selective sight not sure of the cause but you won’t give up the fight. To hide the most obvious solution behind a million mindless distractions sit back and hide ‘cause deep down inside you know it’s really no big fucking deal.

Night Of Apathy: I could go out and smash the state but my favorite shows come on at 8:00 so I think I’ll just stay here watch the TV in my underwear, talk about revolution and procrastinate. the government will be here tomorrow - it can wait. Sat on my ass all fucking day. Now’s the time for change… no not tonight it’s a night of apathy so sit tight. Now’s the time for change… no not tonight it’s a night of apathy - No, fuck you!

Shit People Live In: Look at the shit people live in today. A constant threat of being blown away. people starve as food goes to waste, and you ask why I hate this place. It’s not just the 3rd world but right here at home. Company’s gonna downsize and you’re laid off your job. you blame illegal immigrants for the income you’ve lost, not the corporation that shipped your job away because they get labor in Mexico for a fraction of your pay. Some Americans are still dreaming the rest of us woke up screaming. fed up with the line “in god we trust” as lady liberty hangs her head in disgust. So join the army and be all you can be, you gotta realize it’s all they’ll let you be, oh say can’t you fuckin’ see you buy their lie and go and die for me.

Six Months In Evergreen And The Damage Done: An empty bottle / a cigarette / another night / a new regret I saw my face in the broken glass, looked fucked up but I just laughed, so open my eyes make me see what’s become of you and me. When life brings regret / I just drink and forget, I may say never again / wake and do it again.

Cower Beneath: Mommy I think your son’s a little crazy, he’s running off to fight in their war. the crazy thing isn’t that he’s fighting but the fact that he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for. Cower beneath. Mommy, Little Timmy’s raving mad, committing crimes of hatred in the street, but no one seems to take any notice ‘cause little Timmy’s the cop out on the beat. New little Timmy’s the head of a household but don’t you think it’s just a little odd this little boy you raised so tenderly now has his superiority ordained by god. Cower beneath.

Animal, Mineral, Or Vegetable: I can see the sincerity you lack, if I look you in the eye would your face crack? Everyone looks up to you, I know you’re a fuckin’ joke & you’re so full of yourself I’m surprised you don’t choke. I’m gonna tell you to your face you’re the one I detest and your little la la land just bores me to death.

Animosity: Every time you talk to me you just complain, so why don’t you just go away, ‘cause you have nothing to say and I’m sick of all your lies. Everyday it’s the same fuckin’ story, you say that you’re bored but you’re just fuckin’ boring. You do nothing for yourself, you leave it to everyone else, say you really hate this scene, well why don’t you leave, ‘cause I’m sick and tired of all your shit. everyday it’s the same fuckin’ story, you say that you’re bored but you’re just fuckin’ boring.

Smash Thy Neighbor: Now you’re drunk got a lot to say, had enough time to make someone pay, busted car windows, spray painted house, but you’re on the wrong side of town, just look around. Who are your victims -working families already fucked by corporate policies, your thoughtless actions are more that just rude, you’re wasting money they could’ve used for food. Have you ever stopped to think who the real winners are - the companies who make the smashed parts for their cars. there’s no direction to your actions just thoughtless hate and rage. when will you stop acting like a jock, start to act your age?

Bloodbath: Damn my nerves are wearing thin and I don’t wanna be a peaceful citizen, so I’ll go inside and lock the door, don’t wanna see you anymore, go upstairs and grab my gun, tonight I’m gonna have my fun. Drunk again and I’m feelin’ brave, gonna send you to your grave. Cops drive by I shoot out the tires, set their god damn squad car on fire, something snapped inside my head, fuckin’ pig you’ll soon be dead. your radio is blown and now you’re all alone. drunk again and I’m feelin’ brave, gonna send you to your grave.

Look Honey-Testosterone!: I’m so sorry but I disagree with you, it’d be faux paux not to exterminate you, no better way to stop the hate then drop the gloves and emulate the brainless violence and mentality and act out what we hate. Fight hate with hate, ignorance with violence, channel macho rage shit and kill what we disagree with.

Meet Me At The Mud Wallow: We could just sit here and talk about nothing but chances are I just wouldn’t care. we could get up and go absolutely nowhere but chances are we’re already there. The sparkle in my eyes is just a reflection of the static on the TV screen. the days just kind of go by there’s not much in between. I’m on an emotional rollercoaster and the safety bar is stuck, it doesn’t really matter, I’m going nowhere, I guess I’m poop out of luck. I try to function but I just end up in a state of confusion, when I try to think what I achieve between each bowel movement. Told my doctors to fuck off, all my friends to leave me alone, now I’m king of the bathroom and the toilet is my throne.

I Jock, I Have Mohawk: You didn’t make the football team so now you go to punk rock shows. you kick ass in the pit but you broke my fuckin’ nose, so you brag about it to all your friends, next weekend you can do it again. I wish you’d leave, I think it’s dumb when I bleed for your fun.

Xenophobe-Warrior Citizen: Abject poverty - desperation, across the fence lies another nation, no insidious plot - just trying to live, but why do that when you can get fucked by rich kids, warped young republicans, too much time on their hands, weekends at the border - jack lighting immigrants, flat-out run - a family’s hope, both fuckin’ dead for little Timmy’s ego.

Socialite: Still afraid of what you don’t know, you’re a social predator, run in packs, attack the weak, if you can’t accept it you call it a freak. You’re in your world and I’m in mine, talking to you is just a waste of my time. Hide behind false identities form fit to society, catch the universal disease pretend you’re doing what you please. Let’s kill just for fun, ignorance is number one, try to think - but it’s too late, overpowered by my hate for you.

Laugh To Death: Laugh to death, kill for fun, out with your friend, six pack, and a gun, then you leave the bodies to rot, I hope someday that you get shot. There’s something wrong going through your head when the game you play leaves animals dead.

Room Of Doom: Clothes stacked up to the ceiling, germs unknown they are breeding, cans stacked trails of something, giant roaches they are hunting, garth brooks poster on the ceiling, paint on the wall it is peeling, how’s she sleep with all those fumes, you’ve entered into the room of doom. Room-it’s the room of doom. etc. etc. Brand new life forms coming into view, gotta steer clear of that room, keep the door closed at all times to keep the house safe from that grime, bowl of food sitting there since christmas, what’ll you find if you look in it, how’s she sleep with all those fumes, you’ve entered into the room of doom. Room-it’s the room of doom. etc. etc.

Will You Still Be There?: The day will come when I crap my pants, I’m gonna need you to wipe my ass, because I’m bound to lose control, and I won’t know when I’m gonna go, so just tell me you’ll be here in the end, even if I wet the bed. Won’t die alone in a rotting old age home, so stay with me and change me when I pee. If you love me should it matter that I can’t control my bladder, just because my insides don’t clammer to tell me I’m gonna splatter, so tell me baby you’ll be there even if I shit in the easy chair. Won’t die alone in a rotting old age home, so stay with me change me when I pee.

Universal Death: All we need is a meteor to send us the way of the dinosaurs because the only path to equality is the end of all humanity, so now it’s time we drop the bomb kill your dad kill your mom. Universal death - nothing’s left I don’t even care - there’s bodies everywhere.

Blender Dilemma: I don’t like how my toaster’s staring at me like it’s in cahoots with my TV, my coffee maker’s makin’ strange sounds, I found a listening device in the coffee grounds. At least the food’s good today, well fed when they take me away, how’d I catch this sinister blight, at least the man in the cupboard is very polite. I found the ammo in the cupboard, found the Ruger in the flour, all these noises that Iv’e heard keep reminding me I’m being monitored. At least the food’s good today, well fed when they take me away, how’d I catch this sinister blight, at least the man in the cupboard is very polite. My blender keeps going chop chop a chop, but how can it say that then report to the cops, my cake’s still cook up all fluffy and light but will they come and bust down the door tonight?

I Jock, I Go Skool: I jock I go skool, me play football, like to drool, trendy clothes 4x4 keep play football, no be poor.

Crap Song: Today there’s fuckin’ sunshine blowin’ daisies out my ass, but every time I think of you I shit my pants, my trailer looks so shiny, my Pinto seems brand new, but every time I defecate I think of you. my dog lost his fleas he even beat the mange, but when I sit down on the pot you take first place (in my mind). Defecation... admiration... inebriation... masturbation...

Click The Shutter: Hop the fence, feelin’ mighty tense, if this goes smooth I’ll make a mint. climb the ladder, try not to make a clatter. focus in and click the shutter. I got the pictures back today, everything went just OK glossy 8x10’s and a devilish grin, I need a blackmail note and it’s ready to send. Lens to the glass, can see bare ass, I think this girl is ditching class, senator and a page a girl half his age, he’ll give in or face media coverage. I got the pictures back today, everything went just OK, glossy 8x10’s and a devilish grin, I need a blackmail note and it’s ready to send.

One World Government: Everyday life’s grown so tedious why can’t someone come and conquer us? so come on down and take away my rights, spice up my fuckin’ boring life. ‘Cause I wanna be pacified, I wanna be murdilized, happiness is being fed lies, so come on down and immobilize. ‘Cause we’re just waiting for the one world government, guards guns electric fence livin’ in a tent, and I’m tired of thinking for myself so come on down, drop the constitution and spread some troops around. ‘Cause I wanna be pacified, I wanna be murdilized, happiness is being fed lies, so come on down and immobilize.

Dynomite: I have no fucking idea what the lyrics are!!!

Nic Fit: Sitting at home and I got nothing to do, smoking these fucking cigarettes my face is turning blue, you ruined my life you bitch. I didn’t need you. Sitting in your store and I got no one to talk to I sniff some glue, sneak home and I watch the tube, fucked up my own mind, I didn’t need any help from you.

Drummer: blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah I need a friend blah blah blah blah blah blah you call every night ‘can I be in your band’ No, I don’t wanna be your friend. When I see you I see red, couldn’t give a shit if you were dead, you call every night and get on my nerves, eventually you’ll get what you deserve.

Drunkmail: Who the hell knows these lyrics? Blah... blah... blah...why can’t you get it straight. drunkmail...I want my fifty cents back, bitch!

Dead Letter Office: Blah... blah... blah...

Stucco, Ass, Couch: Blah... blah... blah...

The Big One: Blah... blah... blah...