1. |
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Well son of a bitch, dog gone it, the flea has flown it’s bonnet, now the flies are gathering on it, come on baby light my fire
Oh Reese's Pieces Jesus, please don’t ever leave us, cuz who’ll be left to lead us to our own Private Idaho?
I am your cheap thrill, your oil spill, spilled all over the Verizon bill. I am a garden variety kosher dill do you believe in life after love?
I’ve got your picture in my locket and a hole in my front pocket, don’t try it till you knock it, like my dreams red gold and green.
But I’m tangled in your fairy lights, and I’m snared between awkward delights, I think things might get a little weird tonight but I swear I comply with National Standards
And oh my God I feel fantastic; so fucking fantastic. Rashes, fascists. We all fall down
Bus-fulls of lustful pustules, hair-trigger combustible, a grape jelly Uncrustable come tiptoe through the tulips with me.
I’m Mr. Spock, the cock of the walk, cock of the athletic-sock, oh up and down the city block, take me home, country roads
If we sacrifice the sister, the church won’t even miss her, cuz they’ve all already kissed her in an octopus’ garden with you.
A Gary Coleman impersonator was swallowed by an alligator, a professional mini-masticator, like a virgin, touched for the very first time
But I’m tangled in your fairy lights, and I’m snared between awkward delights, I think things might get a little weird tonight but detailed descriptions are available upon request
And oh my God I feel fantastic; So fucking fantastic .Rashes, fascists. We all fall down
The belts are all re-buckling from all of the cuckolding ducklings, as the lonely, late-night trucker sings: Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me. For me. For me.
And oh my God I feel fantastic; So fucking fantastic. Rashes, fascists, forty lashes, helicopter crashes, perfect matches, greener grasses, Edelweiss, Edelweiss, Edelweiss
Bless my homeland forever
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2. |
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The sun powers sunflowers, for silly drunken hours, the sum of our hours is years, Oh my dear , oh the fear, brings us the fear, or so I fear
You call the Uhaul and I’ll dance you down the hall, if I recall it’s my turn to lead, what you need guaranteed to succeed, or secede
John Stamos stayed most, most of the night last night, This house is full Oh Danny Let Me In, and Kimmy Gibler would ya teach me how to sin, they won’t bother us again
I am a splinter, subzero winter, grand prize winner of a metric ton of shit
Master of bastards, shitfaced disaster, dried up plaster stuck under your nails
Indiscreet bites by the old streetlight, all under the sheets tonight, your favorite kite is caught up in the oaks, no jokin , did that soak-in,?, okie-doke, and holy smokes
So cut out the bad parts, suture up the broken hearts, the heart of the burgundy dog is lost in the fluff and the fog, oh the hair of the dog
This is the last time, the last line, our crime is so divine, the passion is a crime in itself. So dust off my old place on your bedroom shelf here’s to our health
I am a hangnail, a right-wing white male, the ingrown hair infected on your ass
Out of date yogurt, an itchy tee-shirt, I am Donald J. motherfuckin Trump
It’s not a given you’ll be forgiven; it’s time to give in and give up.
You are my moonshine my only moonshine intoxicating my whole life. You’ll never notice that your modus operandi was me.
Those dorky porky yorkies, got ahold of your keys, just give me one more kees I’ll hit the road; to find the mean, median and the mode, can ya crack the code?
Honeybees and sugar snap peas, sweet dreams are made of these, the sweetest dreams are in your company, Mon cheri, Cara mia, bon ami, confessedly
Bussing right to the busking site, Buzz Lightyear’s wrong alright, infinity and beyond aint in the skies; this guys, disguise is wool over our eyes…eyes on the prize
The very worst part, is that I’m a sweetheart, I wish that I was everything you wish I was….but
I am an asshole, suburban sinkhole, I am roadkill rotting in a landfill
I am a headache, I am heartache, I am a toothache too, too late.
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3. |
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I never thought that I’d be the one making this call to my family and now
The frequency’s increased of overwhelming experiences of letting the existential panic take hold
Like a stranglehold, like a stranglehold, and I’m starting to feel cold
I’ve doublechecked, and yes I can add a check to my checklist of fuck ups and failures
And it may come as a surprise, but I wish you wouldn’t sympathize, then again I already feel pathetic
Please don’t read into this, please don’t read into this, cuz I’m sadly clinging to it
And maybe one of these days, baby I’ll be okay, and I’ll get the nerve to say: My dearest Buttercup, you’ve really fucked me up, and now I’m, I'm never gonna get to be, your Westley, your Westley
I’m not the type of guy to write a bitter breakup song, so just chock this up to sentimentality’s sake
And I never believed in hell until your personal tour, now I walk through life with a pitchfork in my back
It’s time to pick up the slack, time to pick up the slack
Winston Churchill, I’ll meet you on the other side of the tracks
But can we please go back to your place? Or just take me anywhere. Will you show me something special? Run your fingers through my hair? Would you follow me tomorrow? Would you follow me again? If I surfed on the waves of my sorrow, and the memories of what has been?
Sorry everybody, an emotion slipped out, but don’t you worry now it’s back down deep where it belongs.
Oh this photo’s out of focus and our faces distorted, have a kick@$$ summer, don’t forget to KIT
I won’t BRB, I won't BRB, and now I’m LMFAO as I GTFO Finally
And maybe one of these days, baby I’ll be okay, and I’ll get the nerve to say: My dearest Buttercup, you’ve really fucked me up, and now I’m never gonna be your Westley, your Westley
So go ahead and listen or you’ll end up like the Sicilian
Cuz I’m the Dread Pirate Roberts and I don’t have time for this kind of hurt
So, Inigo Montoya, I tell ya what, he’s my boy, ya
And him and my pal Fezzik
Have a brand new place on the back of my white stallion
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4. |
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In the evening, the dust settles on the land I’m pickin’ out these tired chords with my rusty left hand
And it’s the same old song, haunted tunes of joy, If I’m preaching to the choir, that’s just me being coy
I wonder why I often feel so conflicted, isn’t that a lucky strife with which to be afflicted?
Here and there I worry my family when I fall out of my boat into that great grey matter sea
Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun
Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones
I wish I had, a cure-all remedy, for the constant wave of debilitating insecurities
And I’m a seasoned pro at jumping to conclusions, adding fuel to the fire of my basket-case delusions
The city bus says that I can feel fantastic, if I save the Earth by using less plastics
But my creature comforts are incriminating me, as I stand on the ocean cliffs and throw my garbage in the sea
Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun
Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones
Fireflies and summer storms, naps on the porch-swing when it’s unbearably warm.
Gather broken pieces into an old sack, pull the drawstring tight, as it’s a long way back
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, if that’s the case I deserve an honorable mention
If I could I would cut away all my rotten pieces, leaving you with something a little more decent
I have no life, don’t let me stop you living yours I’m staring out of the window with an open front door,
And I, I fuckin swear, one day I’ll grow a spine, forget everyone else’s backs and start focusing on mine
I’m pretty sure I’ve got an anxiety disorder, but I’m pretty good at smiling, so I’m just sitting at the border
Getting high on life seems to have associated fees, So I’ll just bring my bonnet if you’ll provide the bees.
Sweaty sheets, dirty bare feet, and overwhelming heat from the sun
Devil claim me, and rename me, devil claim me and bleach all this mess from my bones
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5. |
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It’s all good fun at the kissing booth, until you go ahead and chip your tooth, and end up looking like the Gypsy from Drag Me To Hell
Cuz when you start to eat the shit of the ones producing it, you won’t have much taste for caviar
While I’m not superstitious, I still make my wishes, even though wishing’s meant for the hopeful
The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”, now I’m taking advice from a confectionery treat
But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you?
There’s a scar on my brain, from every demon that I’ve slain, what are my options when the demon’s in you?
So I wake myself in the night, to make sure I’m still alive, I take my pulse, it’s at a comfortable one thousand
And I might be naïve, wear my heart out on my sleeve, but I’ve always been a stupid romantic
I’ll stick my fingers in my ears, ignore the salty taste of my tears, I’ll close my eyes and imagine the sunnier side
But what can I do, what can I do, for you? For you? What can I do, what can I do, for you? For you?
The words in my journal are turning me nocturnal; the words are tattooed upon my eyelids.
This place used to be a place of comfort and familiarity, but where’s the comfort when you’re balls-deep in quicksand?
So I’ll pack up my car, disappear some place real far, but the soured milk of paradise follows
The fortune cookie on my plate, says “things will be great”,
Well at least I’ve got a cookie
While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to run
While it’s been real fun, it’s been a whole lot of fun, I’ve got to go be the one in the sun
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6. |
You Must Pay 6 Pennies
04:07
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7. |
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I wanted to write a song about an adventurous bunny, I wanted to make it short and sweet and just a little funny
But before I even began to sing a tune or play, I put down my guitar and I called it a day
I wanted to write you a nice happy song about wonderful things, and why not?
But what did you really expect from a guy who calls himself HeartRot?
Oh I am an artist of self-degradation, de-stimulation, and how!
My life is my canvas, oh man how can this be the words that I’ve chosen to sing about? To sing about. Chosen to sing about.
This is the pinnacle, Sorry if I’m being cynical, but I'm so goddamned whimsical now
I think I've hit the summit, I fear I'm going to plummet, I’m not going to dumb it down
If self-criticism was a school major then I would already have an advanced degree
And if not giving a shit about war and politics could save the world well then call me ‘Gandhi’
If I had a nickel for my indiscretions I could afford a therapist
But instead I’ll just keep singing my whiny little songs and hopefully I’ll hope for the best. Hope for the best, hopefully I’ll hope for the best
My song about the bunny never came to fruition. I was gonna tell you how bunnies eat lettuce for nutrition
Now I have another song detailing all my doubts. More than you probably would have cared to hear about
Is this preparedness or just pre-paranoia? I’ll let you know when I surface for air.
All the ins and the outs and the ups and the downs are sometimes more than I think I can bear.
Cuz bears are a problem in North Carolina, maybe someday I’ll move way out there
Cuz the bears with the hair wouldn’t dare give a care about fair or unfair way out there. Way out there. I think I’m going to like it out there.
This is the pinnacle, Sorry if I’m being cynical, but I'm so goddamned whimsical now
I think I've hit the summit, I fear I'm going to plummet, I’m not going to dumb it down
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8. |
Apple Core
04:50
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Motivation is a funny thing, a funny thing indeed
It gathers up all my ambitions and sets them on fire in front of me
And potential is a word that you can't spell without potent
Which also describe shit when it's got such a healthy scent
My potential isn't potent like a mighty lion's roar
Which is why I've done nothing all day but lie naked on the floor
If you find my motivation will you kindly let me know
And shove it up my ass and superglue it closed?
Go-on-get-a-move-on-do something productive today
Don't wanna stay in my pajamas the entire fucking day
I'll put down this guitar, and stick it on the shelf
I'll do anything that I gotta do to validate myself
My mental health
And the hand that I've been dealt
Sometimes I think my virtues, are superior to the rest
I'll jump in front of a bullet, but only with a Kevlar vest
My fearlessness and recklessness go often hand in hand
But my fearlessness is bullshit, I'm afraid of what I am
Feasible and reasonable are completely different things
It's the difference between fulfillment and dying of fatigue
I've been told my actions will speak much louder than my words
So I've finished up my seconds now I'm heading back for thirds
Go-on-get-a-move-on-do something productive today
Don't wanna stay in my pajamas the entire fucking day
I'll put down this guitar, and stick it on the shelf
I'll do anything that I gotta do to validate myself
My mental health
And the hand that I've been dealt
If I could fake this ennui do you really think I would?
I've had the shit kicked out of me by all the woulda coulda shoulds
La felicidad es temporal. Eso es lo que dicen los sabios.
Pero lo quiero todo el tiempo, así que voy a decir adiós
There is no instant gratitude, while this just a hunch,
My proverbial rainy day became a realistic rainy month
My days are like an apple, no make that an apple core
My sweetest parts are chewed off then I'm thrown down to the floor
Go-on-get-a-move-on-do something productive today
Don't wanna stay in my pajamas the entire fucking day
I'll put down this guitar, and stick it on the shelf
I'll do anything that I gotta do to validate myself
My mental health
And the hand that I've been dealt
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9. |
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Say goodbye to the winter and say goodbye to the chill, it’s summertime now, so toss the pigeons your pills
Take your tourniquet off and wash the dirt from your face now that the weather is warm in this unpleasant place
The fireworks are just, just exploding in the air, starting countless brush-fires everywhere
And the people are smiling and the people are glad
Singing harmonious hymns about the latest fads
And the people are smiling and the people are gay and they’re burning an effigy down at the bay
And the people are smiling and those people are us, and the children are playing with something hit by the bus
But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies for a taste of that prize
The grandmothers riot down at the bingo hall while grandfather practices his mating call
The flocks tally and rally and sheer the wool from the shepherds, and the priests and the popes are making out with the lepers
The junkies and fiends are holding scented silk roses, sniffing government subsidized tweak up their noses
The spiders start spinning affixed to their digital webs and the baby chicks hatch from polypropylene eggs
Greenpeace builds playgrounds from reclaimed bombed-out cars, for the less fortunate children down at the hotel bars
The music is writ in standard four-four time, to keep the people smiling in the farewell line
But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies for a taste of that prize
All your dreams can be crushed down at the nightmare store, where the red white and blue start a second Gulf War
The robot Gandhi fights the zombie Winston Churchill to be the next star in the ranch dressing commercial
Darwin’s just laughing deep down in his tomb, while the farm fresh select keep popping out of the womb
Now say farewell to the chills and hills and automobiles, soon the people will be eating their fill
Keep your enemies close, but keep your butcher closer, cuz she’s in cahoots with your local grocer
So please take a number and take a seat if you will, we’ll process your order down at the old saw mill
But the word on the street is that people are meat
And the flies start to swarm in the sweltering heat
And you’ll fight off the flies on the fourth of July
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
You’ll be crowned the lord of the flies
For a taste of that prize
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10. |
Cars
01:43
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If I got hit by a car
Well I don’t think it'd be so bad
Memories start to fade
As I lay in the center lane
If I got hit by a car, I don't thin it'd be so bad, I’d have relief from all I’ve done, and a brighter horizon
If I got hit by a truck
Well things could be worse
I could be crying myself to sleep
Or be herded like a sheep
If I got hit by a truck, well things could be worse, I could be full of remorse, and let the pain run its course
If I got hit by a bus
Well I wouldn’t complain
Incapacitated
Walking straight is overrated
If I got hit by a bus, well I wouldn’t complain, I’d be splayed out in the road, but I’d make a tidy load
If I got hit by a train,
Well do you know what I’d do next?
With all the money I make
I’d buy a nice house on a lake
If I got hit by a train well do you know what I’d do next? I’d shout “Ha Ha fuckers I win” with my big shit-eating grin
If I got hit by a...
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11. |
The Devil's Detail Inn
04:20
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Well Farmer Jake he made a mistake so long ago in Idaho, he was chasing squirrels, in a frenzied whirl, on the attack with a sharpened axe, when he raised that tool he was such a fool, cuz the blade was loose what a silly goose, the blade found a new home in Jake's frontal lobe
Oh Extreme Chris well he loved to fish, so he took a holiday out on the lake, he caught some trout to brag about, he fished until he'd had his fill, but when he was through the boat's gas was too, oh woe be him that he couldn't swim, and all the little fishies had their holiday meal
Oh no, don't you know? Oh no, darling don't you know?
That the devil's in the details, devil's in the details, the devil's in the details
There was a drifter John from across the pond, had a wooden leg so he had to beg, out on the streets in the rain and the sleet, feelin old, gettin mighty cold, so he started a fire with an old car tire, larger than he should cuz his leg of wood, caught a rogue spark and John was triple deep fried
Wage-slave Paul loved his alcohol, whiskey gin and whine to stop his crying, he drank like a fish with a deadly wish, vodka beer to mask his fears, he was trouble bound with his littered ground, stumbling drunk, a drunken skunk, he tripped over his empties and broke his wage-slave neck
Oh no, don't you know? Oh no, darling don't you know?
That the devil's in the details, devil's in the details, the devil's in the details
Oh Techie Steve, ya wouldn't believe the gadgets he had, what a lucky lad, computers and phones he all did own but he loved the best his GPS, he used it to drive while still alive, without a doubt he should've looked out, he crashed his car into the local Apple Store.
Oh no, don't you know? Oh no, darling don't you know?
That the devil's in the details, devil's in the details, the devil's in the details
The devil's
The devil's in the
The devil's in the details
Devil's in the details
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12. |
Let's Be Popstars
00:15
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HeartRot Tacoma, Washington
<3 Music only your mama could love <3
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