Marijuana
The breakfast of champions. Growing up, the neighbor would kick her 8 year old boy "out da doh!" and over to my house to play - always reeking of the stuff.
Fetus
Destroyer of dreams, vortex of time and energy. You can never have just one!
Frosty
In america, common sense would be mocked by health warnings and disclaimers emblazoned on all chocolate products.
Gunman
Lookey heah - I see OJ and he look betty betty upset!
Poop
In america we recycled by pummeling underfoot all the goose droppings left on the playing fields.
america'd Ben Sommer
Ritalin
The mid-morning snack of champions. Righteous propoganda and naps to follow.
Gas Pump Suicide
Carbon flowed through our veins and made us who we are. In a way we were taught to hate ourselves, to be self-hating organisms.
Soldier
Murder became unequivacally "the right thing to do" when the babies took over.
Spiky Hair
The mid 2030s saw the crossbreeding of porcupines and homos. Sapiens, that is.
Recycle
Verwerten wieder, Scheißkerl!
  1. Adult Children:   / lyrics

    Adult Children

    we live on styrofoam and plastic
    and gasoline up to the gills
    but when petroleum gets costly
    we petition capitol hill

    we join the union when we're eighteen
    and sleep away half of the day
    but with the Chinese exporting
    we toss our hands up and complain

    ichi-kichi-kichi-coo waa-waa
    ichi-kichi-kichi-ca waa-waa
    I wanna bottle and a diaper
    don't wanna face up to the real world
    boo-hoo

    we're eating hamburgers and frosties
    and jelly donuts, too
    and if we get a little hefty
    we're gonna lawyer up and sue

    we get all sniffly and weepy
    with post traumatic stress nerves
    we call the therapist, pleading
    to kiss the booboo where it hurts

    ichi-kichi-kichi-coo waa-waa
    ichi-kichi-kichi-ca waa-waa
    I wanna pluggles and a lamby
    singing the baby's blues boo-hoo

    I'm going down, going down, going down, going down
    into the repressed memories of my childhood
    my daddy can't make me rake the leaves
    I wanna play my nintendo!
    I wanna juice box!
    no no, daddy, no!

    we are the latest generation
    of happy indolent youth
    we got a house, wife and children
    but sucking binkies till we're blue

    ichi-kichi-kichi-coo waa-waa
    ichi-kichi-kichi-ca waa-waa
    I wanna bottle and a blankie
    don't wanna grow up like you

    ichi-kichi-kichi-coo waa-waa
    ichi-kichi-kichi-ca waa-waa
    I wanna bottle and a diaper
    don't wanna face up to the real world


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; George Arsenault: drums
Hamburger
Pre-lunch appetizer of champions. The Midi-chlorians lived within the beef, imparting their energy to whoever consumed it.
Crescent & Star
Absolutely fundamentalist!
Masonic Pyramid
Everyone knows the architects in Las Vegas were taught by aliens.
Mises
Father of early modern theory of american nations. Greta Garbo claimed he was a great lay.
Riot Police
What happens when you fail to recycle.
  1. Speekie Engrish:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Speekie Engrish

    I went out to buy a tank of gasoline
    Guy named mustafa, his service truly was obscene
    Had bushy eyebrows and bushy beard and yet it seemed
    That he could not speekie engrish

    He came over the border back in '93
    The Clinton Whitehouse was offering him amnesty
    But then the shoe dropped and immigration policy said:
    "Go home Pakistani"

    Speak English, will you please?

    Andrazii? speekie speekie engrish?
    Hey little man, how you gonna hear this?
    You're showin' up on everybody's shit list
    How come you don't speekie any engrish?

    In the hallowed halls of the academy
    They're keeping busy re-writing history
    All those dead white men ain't what they used to be
    Cause they all spoke perfect english

    The university director of diversity
    Could not appreciate his circumstance of irony
    He was sending out illiterates with PhDs
    And they only spoke ebonics

    Speak English, will you please?

    Spizzle englizzle? Speekie speekie Engrish?
    Hey little man, how you gonna hear this?
    You're showin' up on everybody's shit list
    How come you don't speekie any engrish?

    They're drilling oil, we're standing in it waist-deep
    In foreign lands they're slaving in the hot heat
    To bring us gap and hilfiger and nike
    You bet they wished they spoke a little english

    There was the Irish, the Germans, then the Cantonese
    Later they flourished in business with uncommon ease
    The only difference was that they learned their ABCs

    An bhfuil Béarla agat?
    Babbeln sie? sprechen sie englisch?
    Nei sik msik gong ying man?
    Maybe we'll just say it all in english

    Hey ya, hey ya, speekie speekie engrish?
    Hey little man, how you gonna hear this?
    You're showin' up on everybody's shit list
    How come you don't speekie any engrish?


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; George Arsenault: drums
Drone
Steel and incendiary avatar of the "Nintendo DS" generation.
Voodoo Doll
Ambassador to america from the nation of Glorbwixpt. Was a passionate advocate of the stuffing and mounting of Terri Schiavo.
Vlad
Vlad Tepes! Da, tu esti capabil sa!
Sexy Gorilla
A whore-y mixture of primate and lovemate.
Rocket Lion
The circle of life.
  1. Henry Kissinger:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Henry Kissinger

    He was a goose-stepping son of a fräulein
    Until he hooked up with the third reich
    Then he switched sides and became a GI
    The doughboy of intelligentsiae
    Lobbing pineapples and diatribes on the state

    He was the flowering of evil genius
    The ends achieved would justify to deceive us
    Picking fights with slanty-eyed GI Joes
    Communistas set to be overthrown
    Brass-balled real politico on the make

    Henry Kissinger was the president's messenger
    Throwing his weight down every avenue
    Henry the riddler was a five star semaphore
    Riding to war on his republican mule

    When he reached the inner circle of secrets
    He betrayed his masonic allegience
    Sticking pins in hoover's voodoo dolls
    All the chicks were terribly enthralled
    With his super-sized mystical balls on display

    Henry Kissinger was a tight rope walker
    Threading the needle between lies and truth
    Heinrich the riddler was a statecraft conjurer
    Casting his spells all over me and you

    He wasn't fearful at all
    Necessarily brash
    With an ego the size of a whale

    Don't underestimate the sins of your leaders
    Or you'll be singing songs of slavery later


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; George Arsenault: drums; Geoff Chirgwin: horn (verses); Robert Fant: horn (postlude); Michelle Spinelli: clarinet; Heather Zenobia: flute;
  1. Baby Mother:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Baby Mother

    Baby mother
    She cries and blubbers
    Like Sally Struthers
    If I had my druthers
    I'd ditch my baby mother

    She was a royal baby
    Raised by Esterhazys' butler
    And Sound Of Music nanny
    With manners to make her pious
    Für Mütterland Öesterreich

    And now she is a mother
    A gap-toothed welfare sucker
    She squirts them out by the hour
    And hits me up for cash at Christmas
    Here son, meet your mother


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, organ, bass; George Arsenault: drums; Geoff Chirgwin: trumpet (muted); Andrew ?: alto sax; Randy Pingrey: trombone; Will Caviness: trumpet (unmuted);
  1. Little Hitlers:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Little Hitlers

    We're in the capitals and in your town
    And all we wanna do is boss you around
    We're making regulations for your lawn
    No tacky pink flamingos anymore

    We're keeping faith in our democracy
    Our heads are empty but we're really free
    We get our wars and our welfare, too
    By joing gangs and voting with the crew

    Sieg heil!

    Little Hitlers
    They don't want to worry
    Have a lobotomy

    Little Hitlers
    Can I be one?
    Tell me, Oh great leader of D.C.

    Little Sheeple
    Sick people
    Goosestepping around the maypole tree

    Little Hitlers
    Anyone can join
    If they eat the soilent green

    Salute the emporer called uncle sam
    No need for thinking, he's the man with the plan
    Give up your money and your children, too
    To pay for lies in the government school

    Little Hitlers
    They don't have no worries
    They got lobotomies

    Little Hitlers
    Can I have one?
    Treat him like a stupid pet monkey

    little Himmlers
    In brown shirts
    On cue we sing hail to the chief

    Little Hitlers
    Big stoners
    Take another toke

    Four score and many years ago
    Our fathers brought forth an empire
    Conceived in socialism
    To spread the germ of democracy throughout the globe
    So that all may enjoy the blessings of a
    Planned economy and righteous thought control

    We're on a mission, though its plain to see
    That life with government is total sleaze
    We live for jealousy and Schadenfreude
    Its been a pleasure to know ya

    Little Hitlers
    They don't want to worry
    Have a lobotomy

    Little Hitlers
    Can I be one?
    Tell me, Oh great leader of D.C.

    Little lepers
    Goosesteppers
    Prancing all around the maypole tree

    Little Fuhrers
    Dictators
    Stamping out all good a decent creeds


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; George Arsenault: drums
  1. Kill the Estrogen Queens:   download   / score
    Ben Sommer: guitars, bass, keys, misc. voices; George Arsenault: drums; Kaamilya Jihan & Stephanie Horowitz-Mulry: voices; Martin Cassidy: pre-speech; Reanne Burnett: role of Cassandra Clay-Duncan; Rhonda Sommer & Ylana Stewart: dopey feminists #1 & #2
  1. Right Wing Fiend:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Right Wing Fiend

    I carry on so obnoxiously
    Prodigal son or a right wing fiend?
    Pontificate with a chip on my shoulder
    Argue with dad over the liberal order

    Well they say young conservatives have no hearts
    I say old liberals have no heads
    Well, would you rather be a liberal without a head?
    I can help you on that point with my razor sharp machete

    Angry young man
    Angry young man
    Angry young man
    Angry young man

    Right Wing Fiend
    Right Wing Fiend
    Gotta come clean I'm a Right Wing Fiend
    I rock this scene with my fist pumping
    Can't stop saying it Right Wing Fiend

    I awakened at age fifteen
    To left wing plots and conspiracies
    Government taxes my paper route money
    And gives it out to the homeless and junkies

    Well, they say that I'm too young to know who I am
    I'm old enough for an NRA card
    I'm packing heat for the militia man wars
    Soon I'll come knocking and ask who you are

    My head is itching with free market schemes
    I'd give a hippie a case of the fleas
    If you want to live a communist life be my guest
    You'll be scrubbing my boots for the rest of your life

    Well, they say young conservatives have no hearts
    I say old liberals have no heads
    Well, would you rather be a liberal with out a head?
    I can help you on that point with my razor sharp machete

    Conspiracy
    Conspiracy
    Conspiracy
    Conspiracy

    Right Wing Fiend
    Right Wing Fiend
    Hail to the chief I'm a Right Wing Fiend
    The chicks all scream when I do strip tease
    Hung like the devil, a Right Wing Fiend

    Right Wing Fiend
    Right Wing Fiend
    Gotta come clean I'm a Right Wing Fiend
    I rock this scene with my fist pumping
    Can't stop saying it Right Wing Fiend


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, keys, bass; George Arsenault: drums; Geoff Chirgwin: horns
  1. Saint Martha:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Saint Martha

    Saint Martha was heavy in every way
    Cook a souffle
    Some calls and some puts would round out her day

    Saint Martha was bitter as vinaigrette
    Powerful, yet
    Without a love she still felt bereft

    Then one day the desert it bloomed to sunday
    He would shoot her a glance at her

    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish

    Rich Martha was smoother than Bob Goulet
    Why did she stray?
    Turning pastry tricks for an equity play

    Dead set on her head on a platter flambe'
    The inquisitors blamed her for

    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish

    Brave Martha would suffer to be alone
    Took up her throne
    Her chows by her side

    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish
    thread count fetish


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; George Arsenault: drums
  1. Sumerian Protelarian:   download   / score /   lyrics

    Sumerian Protelarian

    we are the gods
    people are the gods
    we are the people
    we are the gods

    never eat the yak
    the yak is our brother
    never eat your brother
    never eat the yak

    never beat the camel
    the camel is our sister
    never beat your sister
    never beat the camel

    we are the gods
    people are the gods
    we are the people
    we are the gods


    Ben Sommer: voices, guitars, bass; Martin Haroutunian: duduk; Ben Stepner: organ and rhodes piano; George Arsenault: drums